Jaime sat across from his sister as she prowled back and forth, pacing the length of the room in the tower over and over again like the lions kept below Casterly Rock. She had been ranting and raving for what felt like hours now. "You should have killed him," she had said. "Has father taught you nothing? He's a threat to our family, our legacy!"
"He's a boy, nothing more. He'll listen to the threat," Jaime had replied. Cersei had only scoffed and continued her ranting.
Jaime had long tuned her out, not wishing to hear of how he was the stupidest Lannister for what must be the thousandth time. He preferred to think that he wasn't nearly as stupid as Cersei believed. He had no intentions of just threatening the boy and leaving it at that. No, he had every intention of keeping the Stark boy well within his sights, to ensure he remembered well and good what would happen if he decided to open his mouth.
Jaime had sought Ser Addam out as soon as he had dressed and managed to calm Cersei, or at least as close to calm as Cersei came. It hadn't been hard to find his old friend in the courtyard, his hair a banner of red against the drab greys and browns that were so often found in the north. He was helping some other guardsmen load trunks and crates into the back of a wagon, laughing and japing with one another.
"Addam!" Jaime called out. Addam whirled around and saw him approaching. He turned to the guardsmen he had been helping and said something Jaime could not quite hear. They laughed and Addam offered a wave as he walked over to the side of the yard.
Jaime met him off to the side, not wishing to be in the midst of all the chaos in the yard. Servants walked to and fro, carrying baskets and linens, all preparing for their departure on the morrow.
"Jaime, I imagine Bran found you?" Addam said. So that was the boy's name. Jaime filed that away, knowing it would be useful to remember.
"He did," Jaime responded.
Addam frowned a bit. "I sent him some time ago, has he only just sent you?"
Jaime shook his head. "My fault, I'm afraid. I was busy." The last thing Jaime needed was for Addam to question Bran. He had no notion of how good a liar the boy was, and he doubted he was adept enough to not raise suspicion if Addam questioned him on what had taken so long. Years ago, perhaps, Jaime could have trusted his friend to keep such information to himself. But Jaime had been reminded on this visit that he was a different man now, that they were both different, and they were no longer the men they had once known.
The corners of Addams mouth turned up. "He's a good lad, hasn't failed me yet. Did you happen to see the sword I gave him?"
Jaime thought back to earlier. He did have a sword, now that I recall. "Yes, I did see it. How did old Ned react to you giving his son a real sword?" Jaime questioned.
Addam waved a dismissive hand. "Ah, he didn't mind much. You know how King's Landing is. The boy has a penchant for trouble, best he has a way to defend himself. Truth be told, I'm fond of him. Wanted to give him something before he left."
Jaime felt the urge to laugh. A penchant for trouble indeed. "I suppose you didn't call me here to discuss Ned Stark's son?" He replied, eager to change the subject.
"In a way I have. I intend to call in that debt you owe me."
Jaime grew confused, unsure of what Bran Stark had to do with repaying Addam for going north with Alysanne. "I suppose it's fair you call it in. Alys is married, and you've fulfilled the agreement. Will you be returning with us?"
"No! I mean to stay. At least for a few moons yet." Addam responded, and Jaime's eyes widened in surprise.
"Are you certain? When was the last time you saw your family? Do you not wish to go home?"
"Aye, I'm certain. It wouldn't be fair to leave her while she's adjusting to her new role." Addam explained.
What, then, does the man want? "What would you like then? Gold? A keep?"
Addam shook his head. "I've no need for those things. A favor, is all I ask you. Bran will be needing another knight to serve under in King's Landing. I had hoped you would help me find someone. A member of the Kingsguard, perhaps. He's talented and a quick learner, he just needs someone to guide him."
Ah, so that's how they're connected. Bran was talented, if a bit unrefined. Jaime had seen him training with the other boys while he had been here, and he showed some promise. Jaime thought over the different members of the Kingsguard. If he were to repay Addam, it would have to be one of his more talented brothers, and there were few who Jaime thought highly of. Blout, Trant, and Greenfield were all dullards in his opinion, and nowhere near reached his skill level. Ser Arys Oakheart wasn't a bad option, but he was fairly young, and guarded Myrcella more often than not. He doubted Bran would find that too enthralling. There was Ser Barristan, and Jaime was certain Bran would be overjoyed to squire under him, but a better solution presented itself to Jaime.
"I'll take him on," Jaime insisited. "It's only fair." What better way to ensure the boy's loyalty? He would be able to keep a close eye on him, and not so gently remind him of what would happen if he broke his promise.
Addam's eyes widened. "Are you certain? I could never ask that of you."
"If he's talented as you say he is, then he'll need the best. I'm the best sword in these seven kingdoms, am I not?" Jaime stated, an arrogant smirk gracing his face.
Addam rolled his eyes at his cockiness and clapped him on the shoulder. "Thank you, Jaime. Bran will be thrilled."
If Jaime had thought Cersei furious at his handling of the situation before, he was ill prepared for the wrath she displayed at this solution. "Are you mad?" she had nearly shrieked. "You would allow him this honor? Allow him so near to you?" Jaime had only rolled his eyes. For someone who claims to be so smart, she can be so dimwitted.
"We haven't a need to hide from him, and this way he remembers his promise. I'll be able to keep a better eye on him, keep him busy and away from his family." A part of Jaime was confused at his sister's anger, at her concern. He began to second guess himself and wonder if perhaps this had been a poor idea after all.
Cersei had only scowled at his nonchalance, glaring at him from across the room. "He'll figure it out. He'll figure out the truth, and it will be the end of us."
Jaime scoffed. "How? You don't let Tommen and Myrcella near me, and not even I know which poor sod fathered Joff. A matter which I should be aware of."
Cersei waved a hand at him. "It matters not. Do you think they'll care? They'll assume it was you."
"He's a child, Cersei. He won't figure it out. And as I said before, who would believe him?"
"He's older than Tommen, and he's nearly a man! And Robert has no love for me. Who would he believe? The son of his dearest friend or the wife who failed to be his Lyanna," Cersei sneered.
"But he has no proof, and Robert couldn't very well act off his testimony alone. It would mean war."
"And when has Robert ever cared about politics? He would relish the chance for another war," Cersei's voice took on a bitter undertone, and he could see her face begin to redden. He stood and placed his hands on her shoulders in a bid to reassure her.
The more Cersei spoke the more Jaime began to think that perhaps he should have silenced Bran more permanently. He wanted to believe the threat would be enough, and what other option had there been? Killing him would have been far too messy, it would have raised too many questions. Addam would have known that Bran had been trying to find him, and the boy would have surely asked others if they had seen him. And then there was that damn wolf of his, that always seemed to follow him around. The wolf hadn't followed him into the tower, or else Jaime expected he would be short a hand. But he didn't want to gamble on the wolf being locked up. No, it's better to keep him alive.
Alysanne would have been furious, and Jaime is sure that if he had killed the Stark boy and been caught, their relationship would never have recovered. He had seen the way she was with the younger of the Stark children. Always cleaning dirt off the face of the youngest, letting him trail after her when she wasn't otherwise occupied. Just the other day, he had watched as she cheered on Bran in the yard, offering encouragement and praise. This is her family now, and it seems as though they have been for quite some time.
A part of Jaime wondered if he even could have killed Bran. There wasn't much he wouldn't do for Cersei, there wasn't much he hadn't done. Jaime shook his head and trids to clear those thoughts. It's not a question he was sure he wanted the answer to.
"He'll better remember the threat this way. Better to keep him afraid of us, to remind him of how easily I could kill everyone he holds dear," Jaime tried to reassure Cersei. She only looked at him suspiciously and shook his hands off of her before leaving him alone.
That had been yesterday, and Cersei still had not seemed to warm to his idea or him. They were down in the yard, preparing to depart from Winterfell, and Cersei had chosen to stand as far as possible from him, Tommen and Myrcella safely by her side. Joffrey wasn't far from her, close enough for her to keep an eye on him.
Alysanne walked up to him, coming to a stop and standing silent for a moment. She observed his horse behind him and gave him a once over. "Do you have everything?" She asked. A silly question, he thought to himself. Am I really that hard to start a conversation with?
"Yes, I believe so," he answered, a bit bemused.
She stood quiet for a moment more. "Ser Addam tells me you've offered to take Bran on as your squire."
Jaime cleared his throat. "Yes, I plan to approach Lord Stark with it on the road."
Alysanne smiled and looked over to where Bran stood, talking with his younger brother. "That's very kind of you. I'm sure Bran will be thrilled," her smile grew wistful, "He used to always love stories of the Kingsguard, he always talked of joining one-day when he was a child. He'll be so honored that you chose him."
Jaime's heart sank, and he began to feel guilty for deceiving his daughter so, for letting her believe his offer came from the kindness of his heart rather than as a way to keep the boy under his thumb.
"I'll be sure to keep an eye on him," he said in response.
She looked away from Bran and met his eyes. "Thank you, father. He's a brother to me."
Jaime stopped and observed his daughter. She wore her hair loose, and Shaena's amethyst necklace hung delicately from her neck. The more he had observed her over his visit, the more familiar she seemed. She resembled Shanea in ways he hadn't seen before. Not only her kindness, but the dragon-blood that reared its head when she spoke to his father, or when she had spoken to him at the welcome feast. That fire was all Shaena. The ice that had greeted him when he arrived, however, was unfamiliar to him and only reminded him of how much she had changed, of how he no longer knew her as well as he once had.
Jaime thought again of all he had missed, and his heart began to grow heavy. He had lost countless nights thinking of what could have been had Shaena not died, had Alysanne remained with him. Some nights, he imagined what their life might have been like. He imagined a horde of little golden haired children. Perhaps a little brother for Alys, with his mothers lavender eyes and silver hair. Perhaps a set of twins, twins to follow him and Shaena around and learn to dance and learn the sword.
He pictured a life of peace, never leaving the Rock. He pictured dancing with a faceless daughter at a feast, or sparring with a son. He often wondered how Shaena would have liked Casterly Rock. If she would have felt as free and at peace as he thought she would.
He thought of what Shaena would think of him now, of how he had told their daughter so little of her mother, of how poorly he knew her. She would be so hurt, and furious with how I have let her slip away.
He tried not to spend too much time with those thoughts, as they often led to darker roads. Like the fact that he could have had some of those memories with Alysanne. She's not dead, and neither are you. It isn't too late. She's talking to you, isn't she?
He wanted so badly to know his daughter again, and a conversation with Tyrion the night after they arrived had stuck with him all the way to the morning of their departure. "Don't let her slip away again," he had said. "You've been a dreadful father to her, but you don't have to continue that way."
He focused his attention back to her. "You're wearing her necklace again. It suits you."
She brought a hand to her neck and carefully turned one of the gems over in her fingers. "It's nice to have something of hers. Thank you again for bringing me them, I know it's hard for you to be reminded of her."
He frowned. "They're yours by right. It was your grandfather who brought them, in truth. And I was wrong to speak so sparingly of her with you."
A sad look filled her eyes. "Still, I never truly thanked you." He only nodded.
There was a beat of silence, neither truly knowing how to continue the conversation. It was Jaime who spoke again first. "I have missed you, Alysanne," he said.
Alysanne scowled. "Then why did you wait so long? Why did you stop writing?" She asked, and guilt crept up on him once more.
"I don't know," he lied, and then thought better of it. Don't leave her with yet another lie. "I was scared, I suppose."
That did not seem to be the answer she wanted, and her face clouded over with anger. "Scared of what? Your own daughter? I was only a little girl when I left." Alysanne's voice was harsh, and he was afraid to know just how deep her fury ran.
"Scared of what you would think of me. I'm afraid I've been a dreadful father," he admitted.
"You have," she stated, and he winced. The confirmation from her, and the way she said it without hesitation, stung.
"Is it too late? To be a part of your life? he asked, unsure of what her answer would be.
She regarded him carefully, and her anger seemed to fade as quickly as it had reared its head. "I want you to be a part of my life," she paused to collect her thoughts. "Perhaps we can start by writing more."
He gave her a small smile, "I would like that."
She gave a tentative smile back, and their conversation came to an end when Robb Stark approached.
"Alys, I believe Jon was looking for you to say goodbye." Jon? Alysanne frowned, looking around and spotting him across the yard. Jaime followed her gaze and saw the bastard boy adjusting the tack on his horse. Ah yes, going to the wall to protect us from the grumpkins and snarks.
Alysanne turned back to him. "Safe travels father," she went to leave but hesitated, instead turning and hugging him. Jaime started, and before he could hug her back she was gone, making a beeline for Snow and leaving him with the boy.
Left with Robb, Jaime made a show of looking him over as he stood there awkwardly. He hardly knew the boy, and he doubted his new good-son had any desire to know him if the scowl on his face was any indication.
In truth, Jaime harbored no ill-will towards the young Stark. He was talented with a sword, and perhaps would provide a fair match for him in a few years time. He followed his daughter around like a love sick pup, a trait Jaime found a tad pathetic. He doesn't seem the brightest, too much like his father. But Alysanne was happy, and from everything Jaime had seen, he treated her well. That was all he could truly ask for. The boy could be as dull as moon-boy for all I care, as long as he is not cruel.
Robb cleared his throat. "It has been an honor, Ser Jaime." He said stiffly. Doubtful, he thought.
"It's just Jaime. We are family now, after all." Jaime gave him a toothy smile, and Robb continued to glower. He only sees me as his father surely does, damned Starks and their honor.
"We are, and family is always welcome in Winterfell. Perhaps you won't wait as long for your next visit, Jaime," Robb gave him a sharp smile.
Jaime's own smile tightened, and he inclined his head. "Yes, we shall see eachother soon. Until then."
Robb took the dismissal for what it was and stalked off. Jaime mounted his horse, and took a moment to observe those around him. Lord Stark was busy directing servants and guardsmen, attempting to organize the last of the retinue. Lady Stark stood with the Stark girls, Sansa and Arya, was it? The eldest girl listened intently, but the younger looked around the yard, too distracted and excited for the journey ahead.
Robb had gone to speak with Bran, the youngest Stark boy still stood with them. Bran showed his brothers his new sword, holding it before him proudly and speaking animatedly. He watched as Robb took the sword from him and inspected it closely, seeming to nod in approval. Alys was still talking to Jon, angrily if he assumed right, and the poor lad hung his head almost dejectedly. Jaime smirked to himself and almost felt bad for the boy.
It was not long before the King himself emerged from the keep. Robert took long strides over to the poor beast he'd be riding for the journey and swung himself into the saddle. "What are we waiting for then? Bloody winter? ON, I say!" The rest of the yard scurried to their mounts and to the wheelhouse, in a hurry to do as the king demanded.
Robert hollered about the wheelhouse blocking the way, but soon enough they were underway. They moved slowly, but Jaime expected that they would pick up the pace and leave the wheelhouse behind, as Robert often threatened. Robert rode ahead of the wheelhouse with a small group of guards, not wanting to be burdened or shackled. Lord Stark rode with his daughters, and Jaime wondered to himself about why they had chosen to not ride in the wheelhouse with his sister and Prince Joffrey.
Jaime looked behind him before Winterfell was completely out of view and saw Alysanne standing on the battlements. Her hair was a gold banner against the grey skies and judging from the smudge of red beside her, her new husband stood with her. She lifted a hand to wave and he returned it, feeling hopeful.