SANSA

She had to discreetly clench her fists to stop them from shaking, both from excitement and fear. Despite everything that Jon had done for them, fear lingered in her heart that the lords might still be too angry at house Targaryen to declare for him.

No, they were not that angry. If they had been, her words would have caused an outrage when she had talked about Rhaegar and his sons, having a better claim on the throne than Robert.

There had been no anger in Lord Manderly´s words when he had thought she was talking about Viserys Targaryen, only disbelief.

The silence in the hall was deafening, Sansa could feel her heart start to beat faster in her chest. The moment was finally here, everything that they had worked for in the last five years would either pay off on this very day or the North would be split.

"My daughter is right." Her father said, sitting tall in his throne like chair, staring out into the hall almost like he was daring the lords to protest or interrupt. "There is something I have not been telling you, my lords. A secret I had to keep, so that my nephew by my sister, could be safe from Robert Baratheon and his hatred of house Targaryen."

"Nephew? By Lady Lyanna?" Lord Manderly spoke again, his face pale as his eyes darted between Sansa and her father.

"Aye." Lord Eddard Stark nodded, his face grim. "I arrived at the Tower of Joy with my companions, only to find that three of the Kingsguard were standing outside and barring us from entering."

As her father spoke, Sansa sat back down; listening along with everyone else to the tale of what had happened at the Tower, where he had found Lyanna.

"When the Kingsguard refused to allow us entry, we fought. In the end the only ones left were Lord Howland and I. Then Lyanna screamed from within the Tower, so we rushed in and found her lying in bed, in a pool of blood. Dying." As her father continued his story, Sansa gripped her sister´s hand and squeezed, biting her lip to try and keep her eyes from tearing up.

Their father stopped speaking for a moment. As he tried to find the next words, every soul in the hall was silent while staring at him, waiting to hear what happened next.

Sansa could see the pain in her father´s eyes, as he forced himself to tell them how his sister had died, a subject that he famously avoided; until now. "Lyanna was dying from a birthing fever, having labored for hours to bring her son, Jon Targaryen into the world."

"Jon Targaryen?!" The Flint of the Mountain clans, breathed out, looking as bewildered as Sansa had felt when she had first heard the truth. "You are speaking about Jon Snow? He is not your bastard son?"

"No, he is not my son." Eddard Stark confessed. "I hid him as my bastard, never telling anyone the truth for fear that Robert would find out, that Jon is in fact Rhaegar´s and Lyanna´s trueborn son."

"Trueborn? Lady Lyanna married prince Rhaegar? She was not kidnapped nor raped?" Lady Mormont asked, hope lingering in her words.

"No, Lyanna told me that she had not been taken against her will, that they had said their vows in front of the Hearttrees at the Isle of Faces." At her father´s words, the lords around the hall seemed a little lost.

"I understand Lord Brandon´s anger at prince Rhaegar for having married his sister without Lord Rickard´s permission." The Lord of the Rills spoke up, looking troubled as he sat beside his daughter, who was clearly furious at how things were evolving. "However, I don't understand why he rushed to the capital, demanding Rhaegar´s head if she left with Rhaegar on her own volition?"

"I do not know my lord, my sister had little time to tell me anything else other than that she had married Rhaegar as well as to make me promise to keep her son safe. She did not even have time to give her boy a name." The Lord of Winterfell sounded so tried and lost as he said that.

Sadness seemed to fall over the occupants of the great hall as her father´s words sunk in and as she glanced at her sister, she could see that the fact that Jon´s mother had not even had time to give him a name, seemed to make Arya even gloomier than before.

"Why should we follow the Mad King´s grandson?" A voice broke the silence that had followed her father´s words, making everyone turned to look at the Lady of Barrowton. "We should rule ourselves, like we did before the dragons came and Torren Stark knelt without a fight."

Sansa felt the anger boil as she listened to the woman, fingernails bit into the palm of her hand as while trying to keep calm. Lady, who had been lying at her feet tensed and let out a soft, almost inaudible growl though Sansa was the only one to notice the direwolf´s anger.

"I am as eager to see Northern independence as any lord in the North." Lord Manderly turned to face the Lady of Barrowton.

"However, I can see the benefits of staying a part of the Seven Kingdoms, if we have a good King who will actually fight for our interests."

"How do we know that this boy will?" The woman asked with her nose turned up to the air. "How do we know that he will not just forget us and care only about the south as the others before him?"

"Jon has done more for the North than most of the Lords of Winterfell combined." Robb growled out like an angry wolf; face turning red with fury as he spoke for the first time since entering the hall. "Do not forget that it was Jon who made the plans for the castles of the Wall and around the North, it was Jon that has been helping us become one of the richest realms of Westeros, he has been ruling Queenscrown since he was ten-years old and has been making the lands near his, much safer by starting to make peace with the Wildlings."

The woman looked like Robb had forced a lemon down her throat and a large sneer made its way to her face.

"Lord Robb speaks true." Lord Manderly stood up from his chair with difficulty to address the other lords. "Jon Sno…" The Lord of White Harbor stopped when he recalled that Snow was not Jon´s actual name. "Jon Targaryen has done more for the North in the last few years than most others. I believe that with him on the Iron throne, the North will prosper even more that it already is."

The man´s words were met with loud cheers and Sansa could feel a rush of exhilaration run through her body, seeing how the Lord of White Harbor was all for crowing Jon as his King.

"AYE." Lord Karstark cried out; waving his fist in the air like a mad man. "Lady Sansa has the right of it, Robert Baratheon has done nothing but disrespect us after everything we have done for him, he has only been playing at being a King but Jon Sno…Targaryen has been ruling the lands of the Gifts since he was a boy of ten, while keeping my lands and people safe ever since."

"It is because of lady Lyanna´s boy that we have not been raided in the last few years and I agree with lady Sansa, we should put our Lord´s nephew on the Iron throne, where he belongs." The Wull agreed heartily with the Lord of Karhold, causing the other leaders of the mountain clans to let out their own cries of support.

"What if he decides to punish us for the role we played in the rebellion?" Lady Dustin interrupted the men, stopping them in their tracks as they were making themselves likely to declare for Jon. "Perhaps you have forgotten that we fought for the man who killed his father? That we fought against his own grandfather and handed the throne to Robert Baratheon."

"Jon would never do that." Arya´s furious voice cut through the air as she stared hatefully at the woman.

Arya´s grey eyes bored into the Lady of Barrowton own,

while Sansa and the rest of the Starks were not surprised with her defense for Jon´s honor, the Lords and Ladies of the North had not been expecting a girl of ten to stand up to the Lady of Barrowton.

"My sister is right." Robb agreed with Arya, a smile of pride at their sister spread across his face. "Jon would never punish the people of the North for riding to war, to defend their Lord and honor when King Aerys demanded my Lord father´s head for having done nothing wrong."

While Arya and Robb had silenced Lady Dustin for now, the Lady´s father spoke up but instead of anger, he seemed more cautious and hesitant in his words. "My lords, while I believe our liege Lord, when he says that Prince Rhaegar Targaryen said marriage vows to Lady Lyanna at the Isle of Faces, there is still the issue of Rhaegar having been married to Elia Martell, making the marriage between him and our Lady Lyanna null and void."

"That is an excellent point, Lord Ryswell." Her father spoke in an even tone and Sansa could see no sign of displeasure on his face. "I have a journal in my possession, written by the High Septon at the time, clearly stating that Prince Rhaegar set Princess Elia aside on the grounds that she could not give him more children and that the High Septon himself had officiated the marriage."

"You have that journal here Lord Stark?" The Lord of the Rills seemed shocked and was having a hard time finding the right words.

"Aye, those who want to see it to assure themselves that I am indeed telling the truth, are welcome to when the meeting has concluded."

A part of her thought that she should be angry or even irritated by the Lord´s doubt of her father´s word but she just couldn't find it in herself to feel those emotions.

For almost sixteen years, her father had been lying to everyone and even though he had the best reason in the world to do so, it was still a lie.

She would have been more surprised if not one of the lords had the presence of mind to question her father´s words, while everyone thought that Rhaegar Targaryen had still been married to Elia Martell.

"How will we be placing him on the throne?" Lady Dustin was glaring icily at the Warden of the North, not looking happy that the lords were clearly excited by the thought of having a Northern King on the Iron throne, as well as the fact that this would be the most devastating thing to do to Robert Baratheon and his supporters, as his hatred of house Targaryen was famous. "While the North has never been taken by force, how long until the Baratheon brothers and the other Kingdoms manage to be the first?"

The lady of Barrowton stared them all down with her hard, light grey eyes. "Who will protect you then? This boy who has still not arrived to speak with us? This boy who seems too friendly with the savage Wildlings? No, he will not. The Targaryens are only strong when they have dragons under their command and how many does this…Jon Targaryen have?"

Lady Dustin smirked mockingly as she mentioned Jon´s name in the same breath as dragons and it took all of Sansa´s restraint from laughing out loud with glee, as the woman continued her speech.

Arya was having a harder time restraining herself, the gloom that had colored her face gone and the younger girl was forced to bite her lip to keep from laughing, thankfully no one noticed.

The Lady of Barrowton looked at the lords and ladies that now filled the hall. "Have you lost your pride? Where is your desire to be a Sovereign nation again? The dragons are all gone and we should have taken the chance sixteen years ago to declare our independence, as we swore no oaths to house Baratheon when Aegon the Dragon came to take our freedom away from us."

"Lady Dustin." the Lord of Winterfell looked as he had been carved out of stone as he stared at the woman urging them to break free from the rest of the Seven Kingdoms. "It is to our benefit that we stay apart of the realm, the North is now prospering like it has not been in centuries and with my nephew on the Iron throne, it will grow more prosperous than ever before."

Eddard Stark´s now cold eyes stared the woman down as he continued speaking. "You know as well as any of us that Robert will not take kindly to it if we declare our independence. If he manages to survive his war with Lord Tywin, he will turn his attentions to us."

"Who´s fault is it that the North grew weak and poor in the first place?" Lady Dustin hissed as the lords around the hall all stared wide eyed at her daring to speak like this to Lord Eddard Stark. "Was it not house Stark´s duty to see to our wellbeing and our prosperity? Something that your ancestors have clearly been failing in."

"Three." Sansa growled out as she felt the rage rumble within her at the woman´s words. The mirth she had found in the other woman´s words of Jon not having dragons was long gone and in its place was only fury.

Lady stalked from under the table, golden eyes staring at the Lady of Barrowton as she showed the woman her teeth while growling ferociously.

Barbrey Dustin stared back at the direwolf in front of her, taking a step back, knowing that the wolf would have no problem in tearing her throat out if she felt like it.

House Stark had a duty to the Lords of the North to protect them, the woman was right about that, however the lords could not expect house Stark to do everything for them and Lady Barbrey could not blame the current Lord of Winterfell for the acts of those who had come before him.

Her father was only responsible for his own action or inactions.

At hearing Sansa´s seemingly random word, interrupting the Lady of Barrowton and Lady snarling at the woman, everyone had turned to look at Sansa and stare at her in bewilderment once more but Sansa did not say anything else, content in staring down the older woman with a cold look on her face, as her beloved direwolf showed Lady Dustin just how angry they were feeling.

Lady Dustin tore her eyes from the wolf, turning her eyes to Sansa.

The woman clearly had her heart set on Northern independence, judging by how fiercely the woman was trying to convince the lords of doing just that.

Though Sansa had once agreed with her, she could not find it in herself to do it now. While being an independent Kingdom had its benefits, the advantages of being a part of the other Kingdoms when a good King was ruling were too much for them to pass up.

Not to mention the fact that they would be hard pressed to fight the Others alone even with Jon´s dragons on their side.

Silence filled the hall, the lords sending each other glances, trying to figure out what had just happened and why Sansa had spoken such a random word.

"What?" Lady Dustin finally broke the silence looking irritated and off balance.

"You asked how many dragons, our cousin, King Jon of house Targaryen has under his command." Every soul in the hall was staring at her, not really comprehending where she was going with this. "He has three."

The silence that hung over the hall was deafening. She could feel the gazes of the lords and ladies around the hall, though none was heavier than that of her father and mother.

She did not need to turn her head to know that her father was wondering why she was announcing the existence of the dragons now, nor did Sansa need to see her mother´s face to know that she would be staring at her, like she had lost her mind.

"That is impossible." Lady Dustin whispered, the look in her eyes making it clear to Sansa what the woman though of her. "The dragons are all dead."

"Not anymore." Sansa forced herself to keep a straight face. It would be a foolish move to smirk at the woman, there was no need to rub salt in her wounds. "Our cousin, King Jon Targaryen hatched three dragon eggs he found here in the castle."

"My daughter speaks the truth." The Lord of Winterfell spoke calmly, his deep voice offering her comfort that she had not known she needed. "I saw my nephew hatch them myself."

"I have seen them as well." Robb spoke up, rushing to back up their claims of dragons being back in the world. "You shall all see the proof of it when our cousin arrives."

"Aye." Their father agreed. "We shall write to my nephew, to ask him to bring his dragons with him when he comes."

The wonder and disbelief on the faces of the lords and ladies in the hall was clear, as they all started to shout their questions at her father. Everyone was clamoring over one another to get his attentions, though they only succeeded in making sure that no one could be really heard.

Her eyes found Greatjon Umber, who was now sitting down, looking like he just been struck in the head by something heavy.

The dumbfounded look on his face soon turned to something else. A look on contemplation washed over him, then his eyes found hers.

For a moment, they studied each other as the lords all tried to talk to her father. Then the Greatjon grinned widely at her, showing off his teeth, before he grabbed a mug of ale of the table.

The man stood up so fast that everyone around him backed away in shock, everyone in the hall quieted down, to hear what the large man had to say. "I say we shove our swords up Lord Tywin´s and Robert´s bungholes, then we place our Lord´s nephew on the Iron throne."

His words were met with cheers and roars of delight, even Lord Ryswell seemed to be liking the idea more and more, now that his liege Lord was promising proof of Rhaegar setting Elia Martell aside.

Sansa watched as the Greatjon incited the lords and ladies to declare for Jon, then her father stood from his chair with a mug of his own in hand, quieting them all down but the air remained charged with excitement and anticipation. "To Jon of house Targaryen, the King of the Seven Kingdoms."

As the lords all around the hall grabbed their own mugs, some a lot more eager than others, Sansa glanced at the Lady of Barrowton.

Lady Dustin sat down slowly, her face stern. There was nothing she could do at this moment to make the lords of the North agree to break away from the Iron throne. The only thing the Lady of Barrowton could do, was to grab her own mug in a tight grip and rise it along with the other.

Sansa´s hand found her own mug and as she raised it to toast to their new King, she thought that she would need to find a way to truly bring Lady Dustin into the fold.

JAIME

The darkness of the dungeons was in a word, oppressing and he was not sure how much longer he could last down here.

Jaime had thought that the first few weeks or months down there had been horrific, when Cersei and Joffrey had been screaming and cursing, claiming that Lord Tywin Lannister would come and kill their enemies for what they had done.

However, when their screaming had finally stopped and everything had gone completely silent, things grew even worse.

He had not seen another person in weeks and had long since given up trying to demand anything of the person pushing the food and water through the small flap in the cell door.

Jaime was somewhat surprised that they were feeding him at all, having heard that many of those who had been thrown into the black cells had starved to death, their bones forgotten in the dark for years until someone finally decided to toss them out.

He wondered if he would truly die in here, discarded in the corner for years, never receiving a funeral.

A rat scurrying somewhere in the darkness made him jump and sharp pain shot through his ribs and sword hand, causing Jaime to grit his teeth so hard that he was sure that they would break.

The young maester had tried to put him back together again, after the Fat King had taken his anger out on Jaime´s body but the maester had only limited success.

There were times that he was sure that the pain in his hand was going to drive him mad as King Aerys had been during the last hours of his life. If the darkness and silence did not get him first.

Jaime huddled in on himself to keep from shivering from the cold, absently wondering how such a cold place could exist in the normally warm capital.

Sitting there with his back against the cold and damp stone wall, trying to keep some of his warmth in his body, Jaime could hear heavy footsteps echo somewhere beyond the stone walls.

It was too soon for him to get his food, right? Scouring his brain to remember how long it had been since receiving anything to eat or drink, he was not sure if it had been hours or days as hunger and thirst seemed to hang over him since being thrown in here.

Was it Robert coming back to take out his anger once more? A small part of him hoped so, the pain might offer a slight reprieve from the overwhelming darkness that was bearing down on him.

He listened intently to the footsteps as they neared the door and he could feel the hope rise that maybe they were coming for him, so that he might see the light of the jailer's torch for just a moment.

The footsteps stopped at the entrance of the cell and as the person opening the lock for the first time since the maester had left him to wallow in his pain, his heart leapt to his throat when the door opened.

When it finally creaked opened, a short figure stood in the door frame, however the person had wide shoulders making it clear to Jaime that it was a man. The light of the person´s torch blinded him, forcing him to look away.

"Ser Jaime." A deep voice, painted with the accent of the West carried over to him, it took a moment to recognize it but when he did, the hope in his heart rose.

"Ser Preston?" It pained him to speak while trying to see where his fellow white cloak was standing. "What are you doing here?"

"I am here to take you back to the Westerlands." Ser Preston rushed over to his side and knelt by his side. "We have to hurry before the castle awakes."

Jaime tried to use the wall to help him stand up but his knee was screaming at him to stop and sit back down.

Ser Preston seemed to see his plight even in the darkness of the cell and rushed to help him to his feet while holding the torch in one hand.

"We have to save Cersei." Jaime gritted out through the pain.

"Of course, Ser Jaime. We will take her and Prince Joffrey with us as well." Ser Preston assured him while helping Jaime limp to the doors and for the first time since he had been found with Cersei that fateful day, he was out of the cell.

When he dreamed of stepping out his prison, he had expected to feel relieved or liberated but the opposite was true.

He could almost feel the darkness call to him, demand that he returned and stay there.

Jaime thought of his lovely sister and with more strength than he had left in his body, he allowed Ser Preston to help him away from it.

The Lion of Lannister ignored the pain in his body that flared up every time he moved, the only thing important to him now was to get Cersei out of the Black cells and to safety.

A sound close by drew his attention and he could see a large, hooded figure drag another out of a cell. He recognized Joffrey even though his usual immaculate appearance was nowhere to be seen.

Joffrey´s usual golden curls were now as limp and dirty as Jaime was sure his own were, the boy´s normally full cheeks were now gaunt and grey but his green eyes were wild, reminding Jaime of Aerys Targaryen before he had ordered the pyromancers to burn down King´s Landing.

"Who are you? You are not the Hound and how dare you touch me? I am the prince; this will not stand." Joffrey´s growl was raspy as he sneered at the large figure. The stay in the black cells seemed to have done nothing to humble the young man.

"My prince, we need to be quiet so that we will not be caught." Ser Preston tried to reason with Joffrey but it was easy to see that it was all in vain.

"GET ME OUT OF HERE." A raspy voice from the cell facing where Joffrey had been staying, called out and there was a banging on the cell door.

"Please my Queen." Ser Preston let Jaime´s arm go and hurried over to the cell where Cersei was being held in, forcing Jaime to stand on his own. "You must be quiet; we cannot alert the guards of our presence."

Even though Jaime could not see his sister, he knew that she must be brisling at Ser Preston´s words. The daughter of Lord Tywin Lannister had never taken it well when she was told to be quiet or ordered around by anyone, much less someone she considered a servant.

Much to his surprise, Cersei did not start shouting at the Greenfield knight in her anger at him.

When Ser Preston opened the door to reveal his sister, Jaime was despite himself, shocked at her appearance.

He had known that her imprisonment would not have been comfortable but seeing his beautiful sister brought so low, shook him to his core.

Her usual golden curls that had tumbled to her waist, were now chopped short in an uneven mess and they had lost all their luster, her skin was much like his own and Joffrey´s, grey and colorless and seemed to stretch across her bones.

However, her eyes were still the same vibrant green they had always been, though now they seemed to shimmer with fury, blazing like wildfire.

As soon as that thought entered his mind, he pushed it aside, his sister had nothing in common with Mad Aerys Targaryen, her eyes were nothing like the Mad King´s weapon of choice.

This was only the righteous fury at Robert Baratheon and how he had thrown them into the black cells like they were common cutthroats.

They were Lannisters of Casterly Rock, if they were going to be imprisoned, they should at least been put in a tower cell.

However, Jaime had to confess himself surprised at Robert´s restraint. Every time when Jaime had thought of Robert finding out the truth of the children´s paternity, he had imagined Robert murdering the Lannister twins on the spot.

"Do not think to command me." Cersei fixed her furious green eyes on their savior. "I am the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms."

"Cersei." Jaime said her name softly, hoping to make her realize that she needed to calm down and listen to Ser Preston.

She glanced at her twin and he could see the horror in her eyes as they drank in his ragged appearance.

Jaime wondered what he looked like, after the long stay in the black cells. Jaime knew that his nose was now crooked by Robert breaking it and the hand that had cut down the Mad King was now a mangled mess.

When the young maester had told him that he would never again wield a sword, the first-born son of Tywin Lannister had raged at the sniveling fool and threatened him with such bodily harm that the smaller man had ran from the cell in fear.

He would hold a sword once more, he was the famous Jaime Lannister, the greatest swordsman in Westeros along with Barristan the Bold. He would not let this injury stop him.

"We have to hurry." Ser Preston moved to Jaime and grabbed his arm and threw it over his shoulder to support him. "We don't have long, and we must be quiet."

Both Cersei and Joffrey looked offended at the man, telling them that they needed to be quiet and as Ser Preston assisted Jaime in walking, he could see the tall man grab Joffrey´s arm and pull him along even though Joffrey was protesting at the rough treatment.

"When I am King-." Joffrey started angerly.

"You will not be King." The large man interrupted him with a growl. "Unless you keep your mouth shut."

"How dare you?" Cersei hissed at the man in her anger as she hurriedly followed them. "He is your rightful-."

"Cersei." Jaime forced Ser Preston to stop so that he could stare at the woman he loved. "You and Joffrey need to keep your mouths shut, we do not want to alarm the guard of our presence and I do not think I need to tell you what will happen if they catch us."

While she thankfully kept quiet, her green eyes promised retribution.

They continued walking and every step causing pain to flare in his knee, where Robert had kicked him repeatedly after he had thrown him in the cell.

Jaime could feel Cersei´s glare at the back of his head as they finally made their way out of the dungeons and to a side corridor that was suspiciously empty.

"How did you manage this?" Jaime whispered to his fellow white cloak. "I had thought those loyal to house Lannister were either killed or ran away to the Westerlands."

Ser Preston grinned but it did not reach his eyes. "Your father has pull Ser Jaime, his gold makes it easier to convince those who claim to be loyal Baratheon men, to be elsewhere when it is needed."

"A Lannister always pays his debts." Jaime replied. "Why are you doing this? You are a Kingsguard."

His sworn brother sent Jaime a look of surprise. "I am a Westerman just like you Ser, I know better than to bet against Lord Tywin Lannister when he goes to war."

"Have any battles been fought?" Jaime asked the other man eagerly ignoring the pain in his ribs where Ser Preston was holding even though it was making it harder to breath.

"No, I do not think so. I have heard rumors that Ser Gregor Clegane has been spotted in the Reach, I have not heard about any battles being fought yet though."

If his father had released Ser Gregor to the Reach, then it was only a matter of time until the Warden of the West himself took to the field. "Robert will rue the day he decided to go against my father."

They continued on their way, Jaime did not even notice where they were going as he was too distracted by pain and curiosity. "What has Robert been planning?"

"He is planning to march to Casterly Rock, to take the castle and execute your father."

Jaime had to force down a laugh at Ser Preston´s words. "If Robert honestly thinks that he can take Casterly Rock, then he is becoming as mad as Aerys was."

"I agree, he has commanded Eddard Stark to march south to help him and to bring his daughter with him, so Robert can marry her but Stark refused and is staying in the North."

Jaime almost stopped walking in his surprise. "He did what?" He had to remember to whisper to Ser Preston so that he would not alert the guards in his shock. "Eddard Stark did not come running like a dog when his friend calls?"

"No and I heard the tantrum Robert threw when he heard the news." Ser Preston grinned; now it reached his eyes. "I thought that he would bring the castle down on his head."

"Stark´s messenger must have lost his head when Robert heard."

"Lord Stark sent him a raven, saying that he was marrying his daughter to a Northerner." Again, Jaime had to restrain himself from laughing at Robert´s plight.

He could imagine Robert´s face when he had read the letter from Winterfell, the man had probably thought that good old Eddard Stark would have been happy to throw his daughter at his old friend.

"We are here." The large man growled in a low voice, bring their whispered conversation to a halt. The man gave a soft knock on a door that had been hidden behind an ugly wall tapestry and it was opened to reveal a young man that Jaime had seen before, it was one of the guards that had come from the Westerlands with Tyrion.

The Lannister man let them through the door and lead them further until they came to a small wooden ladder that would allow them through a hatch in the ceiling.

Jaime felt his stomach curl at the thought of trying to climb up that ladder with his severely injured ribs, hand, and knee.

Cersei and Joffrey climbed up first, as Jaime would take a lot long with his injures. When it was his turn, Jaime, with help from the young guard and Ser Preston, made it but not without much pain and humiliation.

As he was nearing the hole in the ceiling, he felt a hand grab the fabric of his now ruined tunic and help pull him up, as the pain in his body made his vision swim with white spots from the effort of climbing up the ladder.

More hands grabbed him, trying to help him through the hole as sweat ran down his brow. Jaime finally made it to the top, hay sticking to his dirty hair and sneaking under his tattered tunic, making his skin itch.

However despite the uncomfortable feelings of having sweat and hay cling to him, he had to lay there on the floor to get his bearings.

Jaime did not know how long he laid on the ground, concentrating on his breathing and hoping to get the infernal pain under control.

He felt a warm hand on his shoulder, pulling him out of his pained haze. "Ser Jaime, you have to change clothing." Jaime´s green eyes turned to look at Ser Preston, who had found time to put on armor more fit for a sellsword than a Kingsguard.

The smaller man had a concerned look on his face as he helped Jaime to his feet. The blond-haired man had to lean against the stone wall from pain and exhaustion as one of the guards handed him a sack.

Ser Preston gestured for the guard to help Jaime put on the clothes and the older son of Tywin Lannister wanted to snort and refuse, however as he could hardly stand on his own, perhaps it would be better to relent on this one time.

The guards helped him dress as fast as they dared, in clothing that was better suited for a squire than a Lannister of Casterly Rock. Not once in his life had Jaime worn such rough spun apparel and a part of him wanted to throw them away in disgust, however these clothes that he had been handed were leagues better than the ones he was wearing now.

When he finally finished changing, he wanted nothing more than to lay down on the floor again but he forced himself to stay standing. He could not afford to be seen as weak in front of the men.

Jaime´s eyes turned to where Cersei was standing. He almost did a double take at seeing her, they had not looked this alike since they had been five years old, when they had played at switching clothing and pretended to be the other.

His sister was fussing over Joffrey, who was whining and pulling at his attire like an ill-tempered toddler.

As Jaime watched his sister and Joffrey, a horrific thought entered his mind. "Wait." Jaime started to look around the stable as he noticed there were people missing from their number. "Where are Tyrion, Tommen and Myrcella?"

When he mentioned their children´s names, Cersei seemed to realize it too that their other children were not there with them.

"Where are my children?" Cersei demanded angrily. "I am not leaving without them."

However, Ser Preston was not looking at her, he was now staring in terror at something in the doorway.

Jaime turned around to see what he was staring at, standing in the doorway was a young boy with his eyes wide in horror of what was happening. Before anyone could move, the child bolted away screaming. "THE KINGSLAYER IS ESCAPING, HELP. HELP. HELP. THE KINGSLAYER."

He watched as a few guards rushed after the boy, trying to stop him from letting the Baratheon men know of their escape, before the young man that had opened the tapestry for them grabbed Jaime´s arm and dragged him to a horse.

"I can fight." Jaime insisted, trying to pull away from the boy´s grip, only for pain to flare up in his battered body. "Hand me a sword."

The boy did not listen and dragged him, protesting to a nervous horse. "My lord you need to get to safety." The young man tried to force him onto the palfrey but Jaime was not having it.

He reached for the blade that was strapped to the boy´s waist, with pain and difficulty Jaime dragged the sword out of the sheath.

The weight of the weapon, that once would have felt reassuring, almost caused Jaime to lose his grip as the weight of the one-handed blade was almost too much for his injured hand.

The boy called his name but Jaime could barely hear him, to focused on the overwhelming pain in his hand, ribs and knee. His normally steady sword hand was shaking so that the weapon that he had taken from the boy was moving like a blade of gras in the wind.

As the boy tried to take the sword from his shaking hand, Jaime gave him a push before steading his right hand with his left, hoping that the moment he could let it go again, the hand would remember its former strength.

"Ser Jaime." Ser Preston´s face appeared right in front of him, pale and worried and his eyes wide with fear. "You have to get on the horse, we need to get you to Casterly Rock."

"Cersei and Joffrey are more important." Jaime protested as he tried to push the other man away but the pain was causing him to see white spots and grow faint. "You need to get them away from here."

The sound of clashing swords could be heard and Jaime knew that the noise would rouse the castle.

A crash broke through and Jaime´s head whipped around to see a man clad in Baratheon colors come crashing into the stable, causing horses to jump in fear and Lannister guards to rush forward to fight.

"Ser Preston we have to go." Cersei commanded regally despite the terror gripping her face. "Joffrey´s safety is paramount."

Cersei and Joffrey were now mounted on their own horses, waiting for them to do the same but the Greenfield knight did not answer her, rather he grabbed Jaime´s uninjured arm and started to force him to climb on the horse´s back. "Ser Jaime, you have to get on the horse now. We cannot fight them, there are too many."

Jaime felt fury rise in his chest at Ser Preston´s words. The maester had been wrong, Jaime was not an invalid and he was still the fighter he had always been.

A scream cut short any reply he tried to form and on instinct he turned and raised his sword when the Baratheon man´s weapon came bearing down on them.

The man rushing towards him was enough to startle the already frightened beast, who let out a terrified whinny and bolted away.

The sword clashed with his own and as soon as metal struck metal it was like every bone in his in Jaime´s arm shattered. A strangled screamed escaped his lips as Jaime fell to his knees, clutching his right arm to his chest, as the sword he had taken from the young man was thrown from his hand.

As his knees slammed to the ground, the sound of a blade cutting through the air then biting into flesh echoed through the air. The Baratheon man fell dead to the ground and Ser Preston dragged Jaime to his feet, the longsword used to end the Baratheon´s guard life, dripping blood on the stable floor.

"Guards." Jaime´s head turned to where Cersei was sitting mounted on her horse. Tall and beautiful despite her imprisonment, her eyes blazing with determination. "You have a duty to your Queen and your prince, protect us and deliver us to my father, Lord Tywin and you shall be richly rewarded. Stay here and die."

Jaime felt his heart drop as Cersei turned her horse and galloped out of the stable, with terrified Joffrey racing after her.

"Ser Jaime." Ser Preston grabbed his arm forcing him to tear his eyes from Cersei and look at the smaller man. "You have to-."

Whatever his sworn brother had to say was cut off by a head of a spear bursting out of his throat, causing his head to jerk back and the longsword in his hand to drop like a stone to the ground.

Jaime could barely feel the hands grasp his arms but the pain that flooded him when someone kicked at the back of his bad knee was more than enough to make him scream out with agony.

Through the pain he could hear neighing of horses as the Lannister guards followed Cersei and Joffrey into the early morning darkness, as Baratheon men shouted and roared for someone to stop them.

Jaime felt a smirk pull at his lips despite the pain, when he heard one of the men exclaim in a panic that the walls of the keep close to the stable was deserted.

"Something funny Kingslayer?" A large man in golden and black plate armor glared down at him with a sneer on his face. The looked transformed into an ugly smirk as he glanced at Jaime on his knees. "Do not worry sisterfucker. We shall find your whore of a sister soon enough and when we do, well I am sure that the King will not mind if she will have a hard time sitting down."

The threat made Jaime burn with anger but he pushed a smirk on his lips. "I am sure that when Fat Robert finds out that you allowed her to escape, you will have a hard time doing anything without your head."

It was not his best insult however it had the desired effect. The large man turned red in the face in anger and the last thing that Jaime saw was a fist, then it was only pain and darkness.