JAIME
The beating of drums made his stomach take a leap as sounds of war horns caused energy to rush through his veins. It was as if the men of the North and Vale were trying to drown out the sounds of the Red Fork and the Tumblestone, yet not entirely succeeding.
Standing beside his aunt, in the morning sun outside the sandstone walls of Riverrun, waiting for the son of Rhaegar Targaryen to arrive with the lords that had declared for him; Jaime glanced behind at the men at his side.
The lords of the West were all gathered around him, horror painting their faces as they stared at the massive army rallying in the distance.
Jaime could hear Lord Crakehall grumble angerly. "We should fight them; they may have the numbers but we have bravery."
Not one of the lords made a sound of agreement at the large man´s words, Bronn even snorted loudly. "Sure we can, you go first, we´ll wait here."
Jaime bit his tongue to keep from sighing at the sellsword and turned back to the army of Jon Targaryen. Feeling a nervous tingle run through his hands, even the one that had been cut off. Clearing his throat, he looked at the table where a stout servant woman with thick brown curls was placing cups and jugs of wine.
Running his eyes over the chairs, he hoped that they had enough chairs for the lords on both sides.
As soon as the thought had entered his mind, Jaime frowned heavily. Not too long-ago the second born of Tywin Lannister would not have cared enough to think that all the lords of note would have seats, just opting for war, knowing it was the only thing he was good at.
Now, however, with the loss of his hand, the fact that their army was vastly depleted and exhausted and that the Northern Targaryen might have dragons; had forced him to take the harder route.
A sharp sting cut through his left hand forced him to look down. It was then he noticed that a small golden flake had worked its way under his fingernail as he had been unconsciously picking at his metal hand.
Jaime tried to dislodge the flake with his thumb but only succeeded in digging it deeper. Resisting the urge to hiss at the pain, he turned his attentions on the opposing army again.
Banners from the Northern houses, many of the knights of the Vale, the Tully´s of Riverrun and Mallister´s of Seagard reached to the sky like colorful trees. Even the two towers of house Frey appeared among the others, causing Emmon to grow even paler than before.
Although, for every banner of a lord who had declared for Rhaegar´s son, two flew in the crisp autumn air, bearing the three headed dragon of house Targaryen.
A tug pulled at him, seeing the black and red banner again.
It was almost like he was back in the Red Keep, following prince Rhaegar around, or standing guard in the castle garden while Queen Rhaella talked with her ladies and princess Elia, as little Rhaenys played with her black cat.
Jaime pressed his thumb at where the flake had dug itself under his nail purposefully, to distract himself from the painful memories.
Suddenly, the drums and war horns fell silent. The only thing that Jaime could hear, was the whispering of the lords around him, the neighing of horses and the din of the rivers. He shifted from right to left, watching a small part of the Northern army break of from the main host. Now, there would be no going back.
"Where are the dragons?" Emmon demanded, seemingly having forgotten his fear of the army before them and the implications of the fact that house Frey was now on the side of Rhaegar´s son. "I do not see them, where are they?"
"Perhaps the boy is keeping them away." Lord Banefort suggested, sounding hopeful.
"Why? Why would he do that?" Addam Marbrand asked the older man. "That would be foolish."
Jaime did not listen to what lord Banefort said in reply, opting to watching the small party riding closer to them.
As the delegation trotted their way, the lords around him grew more and more nervous. Jaime, on the other hand was being pulled deeper and deeper into his thoughts; every single one of them revolving around the boy claiming to be the last dragon´s son.
Was he really Rhaegar´s son? Or had the rumors been wrong? Did he have dragons?
The thoughts swirled around in his head as he stared at the men coming towards them. Jaime turned green eyes to the sky above, feeling his heart leap into his throat while looking for any presence of dragons. The undeniable proof that the boy making his way to them, was indeed of the Blood of the Dragon.
However, no matter how hard he looked at the sky, no dragons appeared. It did not offer any reassurance or calm the Westerlords; in fact, the lack of dragons seemed to make the men around him even more nervous than before.
Swallowing hard, Jaime turned back to where the other party was nearing them. It was not very large, only about a hundred men strong and following them was a small wagon being dragged by two strong looking dreys.
For the briefest of moments, Jaime wondered why they were dragging a cart with them to a peace negotiation. Those thought lingered only fleetingly in his mind as the desire to see Rhaegar´s second son and heir was stronger than his curiosity about the wagon.
Would Jon Targaryen be anything like the silver prince? Or was he just a copy of the former Lord of Winterfell? Jaime pressed where the flake was digging under his fingernail again. The knight was not sure if they could reach an agreement if the boy was just Eddard Stark come again.
The late lord of Winterfell´s condemning eyes were hard to forget as the man had believed him guilty before even hearing why Jaime had cut down the Mad King. Would the boy he was now to meet be as filled with judgement as the man who had raised him?
"How many men do you think they have?" Lord Westerling spoke up nervously, wringing his hands together as he stared ahead.
"I think that it matters more if he has dragons or not." Bronn´s usual snide seemingly more forced than normally.
"He has dragons." Emmon cried. "He has to have dragons; the boy could not have taken the Twins without them."
"Perhaps your father let them in." Lord Crakehall growled at the smaller man, turning his bulk towards the sniveling fool. "Perhaps he wanted to make a deal with the boy."
The accusation sounded so ridiculous that Jaime wanted to groan and burry his face in his hand, instead he was forced to speak up. "My lord, Old Walder Frey was many things but I do not think that he would be mad enough to try and force a deal with lords of the North, nor the kinsman of the man he butchered at a wedding."
The lord of Crakehall looked ready to protest but thankfully kept his silence; preferring to stare angerly at Jaime instead. The larger man had been growing more and more difficult in the days leading up to the negotiations and a part of Jaime would not have been surprised, if the proud lord would have been gone from Riverrun at dawn, taking his men with him.
The man had been a fierce opponent of the decision that Jaime had taken, wanting rather to wage war against Jon Targaryen and his lords.
Silence fell over the men of the West as they all watched the nearing delegation. It was if every man around him had turned into a statue and the very air was teeming with tension that seemed to grow as the other party neared them.
Jaime looked over the group approaching them, hoping to catch a glimpse of Rhaegar´s son and heir.
Jaime did not have to search for long, as a tall figure on a black horse rode at the front and beside him was an enormous, white creature that at first, he thought was a small horse. Then as they moved closer, he realized what it was.
"Is that a…?" Genna whispered faintly, her face turning as white as the beast´s fur.
"Yes, it is a direwolf." Jaime confirmed remembering the terrifying grey beast the Stark boy had always had by his side.
"Fucking hells, that thing is huge." Bronn spoke behind him, letting a few curse words when he saw the direwolf.
"There are two of them." Jaime was startled by Genna´s words, having been too busy staring at the white beast. He found her to be right, another wolf, not as impressive in size and covered in dark grey fur was traveling with what Jaime thought was a skinny boy that was granted the honor of traveling beside his King. The boy was dressed in Stark colors and from this distance, Jaime thought that the lad had the coloring of the North. Was this the new lord of Winterfell, Rickon Stark?
His eyes were drawn back to the tall figure riding at the head of the column and as they rode closer, Jaime found himself unable to tear his eyes from the tall figure that he was sure was the man claiming to be Rhaegar´s son.
As the young man and his lords neared the Lannister delegation, a sound that made Jaime´s blood freeze in his veins, came from high in the sky.
It was a strange sound, unearthly and somewhere between a screech and a roar making the muscles in his body stiffen in reaction to it.
Then the knight spotted them.
They flew in from the North, wings beating like thunder in the sky. One was the color of fresh fallen snow and the other who was vastly larger was covered in beautiful emerald scales.
Jaime watched awestruck as they effortlessly glided through the air. The dragons flew overhead, the white dragon snapping at the heels of the green one and for a horrifying moment he thought that they would start fighting above them.
If the two dragons would start battling, then the son of Tywin Lannister was sure that there would be heavy casualties on both sides when they landed in the crossfire.
Jaime stood, spellbound as the green dragon flew higher in the air and then suddenly went limp, like a mummer´s puppet that had its strings cut and started to plummet to the ground, only to spread his wings and shoot off higher in the sky; the white one still on his tail.
The emerald dragon let out a shriek that much to Jaime´s astonishment, he could only describe as joyful.
As the sounds of the two enormous dragons echoed all around him, the realization hit him, they were not fighting, they were playing.
The two creatures that could and likely would lay waste to armies, were playing in the air above the two armies.
A part of him was shocked to his core that dragons would ever play like children. Every time he imagined the beasts that Aegon Targaryen had used to conquer the Seven Kingdoms; Jaime had thought them nothing more than fire-breathing monsters.
However, seeing them with his own eyes, Jaime knew that he might be forced to reevaluate his beliefs on dragons.
"My lords, my lady." A soft voice carried over to them, making Jaime´s attention snap from the dragons to the Targaryen party had stopped in front of them; having closed the distance without the Westermen having noticed them as they had been too distracted by the dragons.
A young man had spoken, most likely a squire, dressed in a neat black doublet as a soft smile spread over his face. "May I introduce King Jon of house Targaryen, first of his name, King of the Andals, the Roynar and the First men, lord of the Seven Kingdoms, protector of the Realm and defender of the Faith."
Silence hung over the gathering for a moment as Jon Targaryen´s dark eyes observed them for a moment, before he dismounted from the black warhorse. As soon as the new King started to dismount, his lords rushed after him to do the same.
The slender boy who had given the introduction, grabbed the reins of the King´s horse, as the son of Rhaegar walked over to Jaime, with the large white direwolf following, staying firmly at his side.
Watching the young man approach them, Jaime felt like the earth was trying to drag him down to it´s depths.
He felt like a fool, now knowing the truth of the young man´s parentage. How come he had not seen the similarities between Rhaegar and his son? It was like seeing Rhaegar stand before him again with only superficial differences like hair and eye color.
Then, his green eyes were drawn to a figure in white that stood right behind the Targaryen King. A part of him thought it should not have been surprising to find himself staring at Ser Brynden Tully, clad in the pure white cloak of the Kingsguard that was pinned with a black, leaping trout at his throat.
Jaime had never thought of the older knight as a candidate for the Kingsguard but seeing him now, the man looked the very image of the Kingsguard of old. The Blackfish would not have looked out of place beside Ser Barristan the Bold and Ser Arthur Dayne.
"Thank you all for meeting us, my lords." The young King spoke, dragging Jaime from his thoughts of the Kingsguard as the young man placed his hand in the direwolf´s fur, who was staring at the men before him with the same calculating look as his master.
The two dragons made another pass overhead, causing the lords of the West jumped a little in surprise. Jaime, on the other hand was too busy studying the young man´s face, looking for any similarities between father and son.
An elbow landed in his side, making him look to his aunt, who was sending a glare his way that said: get on with it. "Thank you for coming your grace." It was hard not to look at the Westerlords, who no doubt would not like it that Jaime had called the young man, your grace. "May I offer you a seat."
Jaime gestured to the chairs that they had set up around the long table. It was like weight had been lifted off his shoulders when Rhaegar´s son accepted the offer with a nod of his head. Jaime took the seat facing the young man, now feeling truly out of his depth.
The lords all sat down as servants poured wine into glasses for them to drink, which hopefully would calm everyone´s nerves. The lords who had arrived with Rhaegar´s son looked at the mugs with distrust, prompting Jaime to reach for the one that had been placed before him and take a swig of it.
Ser Brynden leaned over the King´s shoulder, to reach for the cup in front of his King but before he could pick it up, the young boy who had ridden by the King´s side, grabbed it and took a large mouthful of the wine.
Jaime´s green eyes stared at the boy, who did not even hesitate to check if the contents had been poisoned, ready to risk his life for his King.
Was this the sort of devotion that Jon Targaryen commanded among his people?
Taking in the boy´s appearance as he removed the mug from his lips, while everyone watched on in silence, Jaime noted again that the lad was wearing colors of house Stark and had the dark hair and grey eyes paired with the long face of the lords of Winterfell.
He did not recall much about the Stark children when he had visited Winterfell, though the more he thought about it, he did remember feeling smug that none of the Stark boys had the Northern look, except for the perceived bastard of Winterfell.
The only other child that had looked like Eddard Stark was…
"Arya Stark?" The name slipped from his mouth as she handed her cousin the mug, as the puzzle pieces that in his astonishment Jaime had not known existed, fell into place.
The colors of house Stark, the look of the North and the smaller grey direwolf for the Seven´s sake all screamed out the girl´s identity.
"Aye." The missing Stark girl´s face did not betray any emotion in a way that Jaime could never hope to emulate. The girl did not say anything else, taking a seat beside her cousin, as the King took the mug with a dark eyebrow raised in her direction.
Ser Brynden sent the girl a look of tired resignation as the young King took a sip of the wine his cousin had only just reassured herself and the lords around them, was not poisoned.
The anxiety in the air seemed to lessen to a degree, now that the King´s lords knew that Jaime was not trying to poison him. Despite the lessening tensions, Jaime was not sure where to start. He opened his mouth to say something, only to close it again.
He had been trained to be a warrior and a knight, not as a negotiator or a diplomat.
"So, it is true." Lord Crakehall whispered, his bolstering of Western courage forgotten as his eyes were still locked on the dragons, playing in the sky. "You have large dragons."
"Aye." The King replied, his face giving nothing away as he looked at the lord of Crakehall.
"But…but...but…that is impossible…" The large man´s eyes flew between the young King and his dragons in the sky with such speed that Jaime started to worry about the man growing dizzy.
"Yet here we are." Arya Stark replied as hard to read as her cousin.
"Is it true that you called them to you from Essos, your grace?" Genna asked, curiosity replacing the shock that she must have felt along with the rest of them. "We heard that they were hatched by Daenerys Targaryen but they came all the way here to be with you."
King Jon turned his dark eyes to where Genna was seated, while the King´s eyes were a different color than that of Rhaegar´s, they held intelligence that Jaime knew that the dragon prince had possessed, however there was something there, that had never been in the silver prince's gaze.
"They did indeed come to me from Essos my lady, from Meereen to be exact and they were hatched by my aunt, Daenerys Targaryen."
His answer seemed to make the Westerlords even more jittery than they had been before. "Does she know about you?" Genna asked again, leaning a little forward in her chair. "Did she perhaps send them to you, hoping for an alliance?"
The King´s keen eyes were fixed on Genna´s green ones. "I cannot answer to what my father´s sister knows or does not know. But we did not gather here today to discuss my family, rather to try and come to a favorable agreement for all of us. However, before we start, there is something I would like to show you." The King turned and gestured at one of his lords.
Jaime´s eyes turned to see what was going on, now noticing a large man with wild red hair who was spotting a mad grin on his face near the wagon that the Northern delegation had with them.
The red headed man and a couple of guards rushed to open the wagon he had noticed before and drag a wooden crate out of it.
Jaime watched bewildered at the wooden crate that the King thought was so important to start their talks with.
The red headed man, who looked like he belonged in the stories of the Wildlings of the North ordered the men to place the crate a few feet away from the table where the lords were seated. The lords of the North and the Vale looked like they were fighting to keep a calm demeanor around them but most where failing, looking more like they wanted to inch away from it.
As the young King nodded at his men to open the wooden box, Jaime felt himself lean forward along with the other Westerlanders, his green eyes stared at the crate, left hand gripping harder on the armrest of the chair. The knight felt the hairs on the back of his head rise as he had to force the phantom hand from traveling to the sword strapped to his hip.
Then the crate shook, like something was raging at being locked inside it. The noise was almost enough to make Jaime forget about the dragons flying in the air above them. Almost.
The wild haired man grabbed onto a chain that led directly into the crate, before he kicked it over, allowing the wooden box to fall to its side, it´s lid falling off.
Out fell what Jaime thought was a heap of black rags and rotting flesh.
For a horrifying moment, the older son of Tywin Lannister thought that Jon Targaryen had brought one of the Northern men killed in the massacre of the Twins, to throw it in their faces. However, when Jaime spotted no colors of sigils anywhere among the black rags, his eyes flew to where Rhaegar´s son was sitting.
There was no change in the young King as he stared at the heap, he remained as stoic as he had been since he arrived but Jaime noticed that the young girl, Arya Stark leaned an inch forward, as if to shield her cousin from any harm that might befall him from the pile of clothing.
"What is thi-." Whatever Emmon Frey started to say was lost when the dark figure jumped up with a piercing scream and charged at them.
Jaime, along with the other lords of the West jumped to their feet as one, hands finding the hilts of their swords, while some even tumbled backwards over their chairs in the rush to get away from the thing, before the creature was yanked back by the chain that had been wrapped around its throat and chest.
It looked like a man who had been dead for some time and the smell that waved off it was enough to confirm what his eyes saw true.
The creature´s arms reached out, trying it´s best to grab at them with its gnarly fingers, black rags were hanging, rotting along with the body while dead milky white eyes promised them death if it got close enough.
"This, my lords," The King spoke evenly as if the corpse was not even there. "was once a brother of the Night´s Watch. His name was Wick Whittlestick and he served as a steward of the Night´s Watch."
"That is…what…that thing…" Lord Banefort tried to put what he had seen into words but could not find them.
"Aye, that is a dead man." The young man confirmed easily, still sitting down beside his own lords while the men of the West were all standing, still staring at the horror that the Targaryen men were trying to shove back into its home.
"That cannot be." Gasped Addam Marbrand, still staring at the dead man who was being shoved back into the crate.
"Do you want to take a closer look?" Asked a Northerner with a sigil of a grey hand on white. "We cannot promise you that your face will remain intact if you come too close." His words caused a few of the lords of Jon Targaryen to snigger but they quickly stopped when the young King sent them a stern look.
Even though only Genna remained seated on their side, she was by no means unaffected by the thing they had seen. Her eyes were wide with fear and her knuckles white as she gripped onto the armrests of her chair.
"A dead man?" Genna asked, fighting to keep her voice from shaking as Jaime slowly sat back down, now that the King´s men were dragging that thing away from them.
As the King told his story, Jaime Lannister could only stare dumbstruck at the younger man. The tale the King wove was unbelievable at best and without the proof of his words, Jaime would have scoffed, while the lords of the West would have called Rhaegar´s son a liar.
Jaime had never been a man to believe such tall tales. However, the proof had stared him directly in the eyes, the dead were rising beyond the Wall and with them would come the long night.
"How can…" Jaime started only to stop and fall silent for a moment before starting again. "Can we defeat them?"
"Aye, we can." King Jon nodded, his sharp eyes staring into Jaime´s, making the older man feel like an experiment before a maester once again. "Although we stand the best chance if we stand together."
Jaime was not sure how they could fight creatures made of ice that raised the dead, but if they wanted to have any chance of surviving, they had to make peace and join with the man before him.
"This matter concerns us all, not just the people closest to the Wall, for if the dead manage to get through, then it might already be too late for us all." The King continued stern faced in a manner more alike Eddard Stark rather than prince Rhaegar. "At Hardhome, beyond the Wall, we saw them cut through any barricade that had been put in their path; only to massacre anything that they came across, children, mothers, warriors or the infirm alike. It does not matter to them."
Eyes the color of Valyrian steel observed the silent audience before them before Jon Targaryen continued. "They do not care if we are Starks, Lannisters or Targaryen. Highborn or smallfolk, they will kill us all the same, before raising our corpses to fight for them until there is nothing living in this world."
"But before we can do that," Genna spoke in a low whisper, her green eyes never leaving the King. "We must come to terms."
"Aye." The King nodded. "First, we want you to give up the castle of Riverrun, to be handed back to lord Edmure Tully. Secondly, we want you to send every common soldier back to the Westerlands, after they have been disarmed, to tend to the fields and to hopefully get one more harvest before winter comes."
Grumbling met the King´s words and Ser Addam paled. "You want us to send more than half of our army West?"
"Aye, it is imperative for every available hand to be working in the fields for the upcoming winter. For we do not know how long it will last, we will be fighting a war to the North and supply lines must hold."
Glancing to where Emmon was sitting beside his wife, Jaime could see the horror on the man´s face; clearly more horrified that he had to give up Riverrun than the fact that more than half of the Lannister army would be heading back West and disarmed. "Of course, Riverrun will be handed back to lord Tully." Jaime kept his voice even as he leaned back to send Emmon Frey a fixed stare when the man looked ready to protest or worse, demand something in return for the castle. The weasel like man looked like he had been slapped when he saw the look on the face of the older son of Tywin Lannister.
When the man was sufficiently cowed, Jaime directed his words once again to the King before him. "The lords of the West had nothing to do with the Red Wedding, it was my father´s plan, along with that of Old Walder Frey and Roose Bolton."
The young man stared at Jaime and once again he had to wonder what that was, hiding behind his eyes that had never been in Rhaegar´s indigo ones.
Arya Stark leaned towards her cousin and whispered something in the man´s ear. Whatever she had to say to him, had the new Targaryen King´s full attention. Try as he might, Jaime could not begin to fathom what went on between the cousins, he could only hope that it would be in his favor.
If negotiations broke down and it came to war between them, he was sure that it would not end in Lannister victory. The King´s mount was enough to end any resistance from the war weary Westerlanders, if Jaime was forced to try and get the men to make formations, he was sure that most would drop their weapons and run for their lives before trying to defend their lords.
"What we have learned from the trials held at the Crossing, does tell the same story." The young King spoke calmly, surprising Jaime once again. "After all, it would have been hard for lords Tywin, Frey and Bolton to keep their plans secret if every lord under their command knew what they had in the works."
Jaime thought he could hear some of the lords by his side let out breaths of relief. It would not surprise him if they did.
"Thank you, your grace." Genna spoke up, trying to hide her relief at the man´s words.
As Jon Targaryen nodded, Jaime could see Ser Brynden behind him almost puff up with pride, not from Genna´s words, Jaime was sure, rather because of how reasonable and calm the King was proving himself to be when dealing with those who should have been his enemies.
"That being said." As the King spoke again. "There is still the issue with your sister and her son in King´s Landing."
He had known that this would be a concern with the young man in front of him, any King coming to claim their throne did not want any competition for it, in any shape or form. Cersei meanwhile, would not give the crown up so easily and she would fight tooth and nail against any who threatened to take the Iron throne away from her.
"We have heard that she burned the Sept of Baelor down, in wildfire." Lord Royce spoke up for the first time, his hard eyes on Jaime. "If that is indeed true, then she must answer for it as well."
Jaime thought it was strange at first that they were concerned with Cersei when the dead things were gathering beyond the Wall, although the more he thought about it, it really was not all that bizarre. The lords of Jon Targaryen would not like to have Cersei scheming their downfall in King's Landing, while they were risking their lives in the North, fighting for the people of Westeros.
"We have heard that you held trials for the Freys of Riverrun." Genna spoke, face pulled into a worried frown. "Will you be holding trials for Cersei as well?"
"Aye." Jon Targaryen nodded. "Everyone standing accused of crimes must stand trial."
He felt his aunt relax beside him and he could hear the low sigh of relief she let out, hearing that at least there would be a trial for Cersei.
"And what about Tommen?" Jaime blurted out, feeling fear for the boy´s safety. He might not have been a father to him as the boy had been growing up, nor thought much about Tommen or considered him his son as Cersei had been adamant that Jaime have nothing to do with the children.
Now, though Jaime would do everything in his power to protect his last living child, even if it meant fighting dragons.
"Aye, what about young Tommen?" Dark grey eyes stared into his. Genna´s words that day in the solar of the lord of Riverrun ringing in Jaime's mind.
Jaime looked at his lords. They might not like what he was about to do but they would have to live with it, he had to save little Tommen. His son was only eight and completely innocent in all of this.
"Tommen has no claim on the Iron throne." Jaime fought to keep his voice as carefree and arrogant as he had used to. "He is not Robert Baratheon´s son but mine."
Even though everyone had known it for years now, speaking the truth for everyone to hear felt alien.
Jaime risked looking at Ser Brynden Tully. The man´s brushy eyebrows rose high on his forehead, as if he did not believe what Jaime had just done.
In one fell swoop, Jaime had taken away all claim the Lannisters had on the Iron throne and stomped on his father´s legacy and then spit on it.
That did not matter anymore, his father was dead and Jaime needed to save Tommen.
Cersei could go and hang for all he cared.
"That does simplify matters." Ser Brynden spoke, his gravelly voice cutting through the air of disbelieve around them.
"Indeed, it does." Lord Edmure stared spitefully at the one handed knight. "Although I expected you to use your sister´s claim that he was Robert Baratheon´s son to further your own interest."
Jaime had to bite his tongue to keep from spitting out a snarky comment, he knew that it would not end well from him, especially when he had threatened lord Edmure that if he did not give up the castle of Riverrun, he would catapult the man´s son at the walls.
Years of serving in the Kingsguard of Aerys Targaryen and then Robert Baratheon had trained him in how to watch his tongue when he needed it, even if it always felt unnatural for him to do so.
Instead, he directed his words to the son of prince Rhaegar. "Your grace, I am willing to write to the lords of the realm to tell them that Tommen is indeed my son and therefore has no claim on the Iron throne."
"And in return?" Lady Arya asked, a hint of playfulness in her tone that Jaime was not sure if he had imagined or not.
Jaime glanced at where his aunt was seated, she gave him the barest hint of a nod, telling him to continue. "I would ask that Tommen be made legitimate and become a Lannister and the new lord of Casterly Rock."
The white wolf beside the King, tilted his head as he stared at Jaime like he was wondering if he had heard him right, the movement looking out of place on something that could easily rip of his head without much effort.
The King however, continued to look at Jaime with an unreadable expression on his face. As the King studied him, Jaime felt torn between hope and worry. He, like many other of the Westerlords had felt hope when they had heard that Jon Targaryen had not in fact killed every Frey in sight when he had taken the Twins and allowed young Brian Frey to take up the mantle of the new lord of the Crossing.
Would Rhaegar´s son be as understanding towards the Westerlanders and little Tommen?
Silence stretched on as the King only stared at Jaime, making the older son of Tywin Lannister feel like a young boy again. "Tommen is not like Joffrey." He was sure that everyone stiffened at the very mention of the elder of his sons. "He is good and kind, there is not a malicious bone in his body."
"My nephew speaks true, your grace." Genna spoke up when the silence continued. "Tommen is nothing like his older brother."
"Aye, I have heard as much." Jon Targaryen eyes seemed to soften a bit when he broke his silence. "My wife, Queen Sansa told me that young Tommen likes kittens, lemon cakes and is as sweet as any child can be."
The lords of the new Targaryen King did not seem to react, rather they seemed calm and collected. Even Edmure Tully, who hated Jaime with every fiber of his being, did not protest what could be happening.
"If you announce to every lord and lady in the realm that young Tommen is indeed your son and has no claim on the Iron throne, then I see no problem with him taking the Lannister name and becoming the new lord of Casterly Rock." The young King spoke calmly before taking a sip of wine.
Jaime felt the hope rise in him but that rise was put to a halt at the King´s next words. "Young Tommen will of course have to be a ward of the Crown until he is old enough to take up rule over the Westerlands."
The lords around the Targaryen King nodded, looking at Jaime, knowing that he would not have much of a choice in the matter.
"And you will have to give yourself up as a hostage, to make sure your family does not rise up against us again." Jaime had known that he would not walk free away from this meeting, it had been in the back of his mind, ever since the messenger had arrived at Riverrun.
"I do not suppose I have much choice in the matter." Jaime found himself failing badly at sounding snide, rather his tone sounded resigned at what would be happening in only a few moments. "But I ask that my aunt Genna be named the regent of the Westerlands and Casterly Rock, until Tommen comes of age."
The young King stared at him with an impassive look on his face as Jaime found himself pressing on the injured finger discreetly, feeling the sharp pain rush up his hand.
"A woman?" Lord Crakehall gasped, shocked at Jaime´s request. "Lord Jaime, you want a woman to rule the West for the next few years?"
Every Westerlander was staring at him wide eyed, even Genna had turned to look at him in shock. However, Jaime ignored them all in favor of looking at the son of Rhaegar, waiting for him to say anything.
"Why should a woman not serve as a regent?" Jon Targaryen asked, stone faced as he stared the lord of Crakehall down.
Every soul around the table had gone completely still as the young King waited for an answer, even the stout servant wench who had been serving wine.
"What about lord Tyrion?" A voice piped up, making everyone turn to a man clad in the colors of house Corbray. "He is next in line to inherit Casterly Rock, he comes before a bastard born of incest."
"Lord Tyrion stands accused of being a kinslayer." Lord Royce spoke calmly while sending the younger man a hard look. "He cannot rule the West without standing trial."
"We do not know if Tyrion did kill Tywin." As Genna defended Jaime´s brother, he felt torn in two. A part of him wanted nothing more than jump to his brother´s defense and yet…
"Lord Royce, lady Genna." Rhaegar´s son placed his hand in the white wolf´s fur again, his eyes thoughtful and dark. "You are both right. We must find the truth of the matter, however until we can ascertain if lord Tyrion is truly guilty or innocent of this crime, young Tommen will become the next lord of Casterly Rock."
The silence brought on by those words was only broken by the beating of leathery wings above them before the King broke the silence again. "Is that agreeable to everyone?"
Relief flooded Jaime as everyone seemed to agree, some happily while others reluctantly, knowing that there was no real choice in the matter.
"Now, there is one last matter we need to discuss before we continue." Jon Targaryen´s northern accent cut through the air as his cousin sat straighter in her chair. "Where is the location of the bones of my uncle, Lord Eddard Stark and the other half of the ancestral sword Ice?"
The feeling that gripped Jaime was what he imagined the ice monsters that were marching on the Wall brought with them. "Your grace," Jaime swallowed and pressed once again on the gold flake under his fingernail. "I cannot say where the bones of lord Stark are located but…"
Slowly rising to his feet, Jaime unfastened the sword that hung on the belt around his hips and handed it to the King, where he sat, staring at the blade in Jaime´s hand. "This is the other half of the sword."
Jon Targaryen stood up, everyone quickly following his lead, as the son of the last dragon reached for the sword Jaime´s first born child had called Widow´s Wail.
The young man took the sword and slowly pulled the blade out of it´s sheath, revealing the black and red Valyrian steel. An unbidden thought entered Jaime´s mind, that the blade matched the crown of Aegon the Conqueror perfectly, if the golden lion head pummel was changed into a black dragon with ruby eyes.
The Targaryen King studied the weapon in his hands as everyone seemed to hold their breath. "Thank you, Ser Jaime." There was a faraway glint in Jon Targaryen´s eyes as he put the sword back in it´s sheath. "Does it have a name?"
A lump formed in his throat as every eye was now on him, forcing it down with a swallow, Jaime made up his mind. "No, I don´t believe so."
A hint of a smile tugged at King Jon´s lips before he attached the sword to his belt before he sat down again with everyone following. "Shall we discuss the details of our agreement?"
Jaime scratched at the gold flake with his thumb again as he agreed and was forced to conceal his shock when the chip slid from under his nail, the sharp pain dulling into a throb.
For hours they discussed, argued and negotiated the details of their agreement and when the sun was setting in the west, as the sky was turning pink and purple the servants came to remove the table.
As they stood in the dying light of the sun, Jaime took a deep breath as he watched the black and red banners of house Targaryen fly in the sky, under the beating wings of the King´s dragons. Under his King´s dragons.
When his knee hit the grass covered ground, it was like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders and as he swore his fidelity to the son of Rhaegar Targaryen, he hoped that tonight he might be free from sorrowful indigo eyes.