Jaime
Jaime was in a foul mood. He really hasn't been in the most favorable mood since the whole seige happened in the first place, but he was in an especially foul mood for the last day or so.
The only good thing that has happened the last few days was he finally finished the unenjoyable business of hunting down those two other pyromancers that had known Aerys's plan to level the city with wildfire.
That certainly had some affect upon his general mood. Dressed in plain clothes searching out Belis and Garigus throughout the slowly recovering city had proved easy enough. Belis had been hidden in some half-burnt shop near Fleabottom and upon recognizing Jaime was quick to try and offer as much gold has he could muster.
Truly, did the man think that bribery would work?
Garigus was just as easy to find, and thankfully far easier to deal with. The man had wept for mercy and Jaime had done the most he could. A quick death that he figures was painless enough for the man who only weeks ago had been excitably whispering to the king about the explosive properties of wildfire.
It had taken Jaime four days in total to deal with the two of them. Not because they were particularly hard to track down, that had only taken a day each. But more because the ever honorable— and judging— Ned Stark had seen fit to have Jaime placed under supervision.
Not technically arrested, he wasn't kept in the black cells by any means. He had a room that was as fine as any in the Keep and didn't have to surrender his possessions save his sword (which had added to his difficulty as he'd had to procure a new one when he went out in search of the pyromancers.)
No, Jaime wasn't a prisoner though he's certain Ned Stark wished him to be. But the northern lord— who was leagues less likable than his sister— was smart enough to not imprison the son of the man who had sacked the city for the rebellion (and also had more men in said city prior to the arrival of the remaining rebels.)
Jaime had managed to slip away after a day and a half of going mad from both boredom and anxiousness simultaneously from within his room with his only visitor being his father just the once, where he proceeded to commend him for his act of king slaying. Or as commending as Tywin Lannister ever is with his children, so to say he said it was an appropriate decision that will benefit house Lannister. He makes no reference to the fact that Jaime hadn't seen his father since he'd become a kingsguard years ago. He also eventually questions Jaime about Elia and the Targaryen children, which is when Jaime first learned about their disappearance from the keep.
Regardless, he'd managed to slip out of the castle and deal with the pyromancer rats without anyone the wiser.
When he'd returned the last evening he had collapsed in bed only to find himself as incapable of sleep as ever.
He'd hoped that it was simply the anxieties surrounding two pyromancers holding the plan to blow the city up still being alive that had kept him from getting plentiful sleep the last few days. But no, he'd tossed and turned and eventually when he did sleep all his dreams consisted of green flames and a dead king shouting "burn them all" while blood flowed from his neck.
To say he slept well was to be a liar.
Thankfully, not long after the arrival of the new king Robert and Jon Arryn, Jaime procured some freedom once more. His father apparently having made it shrewdly known that Jaime had done the men a service, vows be damned. And their worries were far more well placed on finding the remaining Targaryens and ending the siege that Mace Tyrell has been heading on Roberts home. Thus they could worry about what to do with a vow-breaking kingsguard after the more pressing issues of war have been dealt with.
Jaime was simply grateful to be free of the confining nature of a single room. He truly understands now how unbearable Alys's first few weeks in the keep must have been.
He intends, with his new roaming freedom of the keep, to search Alys out and inform her of his newfound sympathy for her early plight, and to distract himself from memories of Aerys's blood with a rousing game of chess where she'll most certainly win. He intends to perhaps inquire as to if she'd be opposed to him rejoining her bed for sleep again, and hopes for his own tiredness that she won't.
He intends for this.
But then he speaks with his father, who once again questions whether he knows anything of Elia Martells disappearance with her children. Which he once again proclaims no knowledge of anything to do with it, which he doesn't. Then his father frowns and makes his own displeasures known about their slipping away the night of the siege. Which makes Jaime's stomach feel foul at the thought of what his father had had planned though he refrains from thinking to far into it.
Then his father mentions Lord Stark's missing sister.
"Yes, well she has been missing since the start," Jaime had pointed out, tapping his foot against the ground as he really would rather not be spending his first afternoon with free reign of the keep stuck in with his father. "The late prince Rhaegar ran off with her, started this whole mess? Has Stark looked south? Apparently that's where Rhaegar was before returning to court."
His father looked up from his letters to give Jaime an unsurprising look of disappointment. "Not that one. The other Stark girl, the one who'd been here as a hostage," he clarifies, looking back down, not noticing that Jaime had stopped his restless tapping. "She disappeared from the keep a week ago with one of Lord Starks bannermen."
"Alys disappeared?" Jaime asks, dumbfounded. And curses himself when his father looks up quick to study him, his sharp eyes scouring over Jaime's features for what was underneath.
"Yes," he states, and Jaime swallows, straightens as he always has felt the need to do under his father's scrutinizing gaze. "She apparently left a note behind for Lord Stark, said she was going searching for her sister. Though it's of little importance to us." He says it pointedly, having clearly discovered the concern Jaime has developed for Alys over the year of knowing her.
So Jaime shrugs, "of course. I simply found it curious." He leans back once more onto the stone, "she was always a sheepish thing, surprising she found the courage to do something so dangerous." Tywin keeps his gaze on Jaime a second longer, clearly not buying his nonchalance, before finally looking back down to his letters.
A few moments of silence pass before his father speaks again, and only to dismiss him. "That was all I wished to discuss with you."
And so his intentions for the day are utterly wrecked and he does not spend the day sat with Alys in the gardens with a chess board between them while he tries to decide between actually trying hard to beat her or trying hard to lose in the most terrible way. Instead he wanders the keep for a while before turning to the training yard where he spends the better part of the day swinging his sword against a dummy until his arm felt like it would fall off his body if he hit it again.
And then he hit it again.
And again.
And again.
The next morning, with especially sore arms and after a restless night of blood, fire, and dead kings, Jaime wanders rather listlessly until he ends up in the godswood at the little bench Alys always sat upon when she wasn't keen on kneeling on the dirt and leafs at the base of the oak.
He peers at the big old thing and wonders if she's okay.
He thought about it a lot while he was hitting the training dummy and between fits of sleep. His father didn't have much detail, and so perhaps Jaime didn't know the whole situation.
He said she left with one of the northern bannermen, would that be enough to keep safe on the journey to Dorne? She'd be going through a lot of country, either Stormlands or the Reach or both to get to the passes that would lead to the country she believes Lyanna is in.
Lots of bad men take advantage of a country at war to prey on weak parties traveling the roads. A lone man and woman wandering would be an ample target, especially if Alys looks like a highborn lady. Which she usually does.
That's not even to consider the wildlife between Kings Landing and Dorne.
He frowns before shaking his head.
Enough worrying, she's a big girl. She can handle herself, probably.
Hopefully the bannerman she brought with her can handle it.
Jaime sighs and buries his face in his hands.
She should have asked him, he thinks.
For one he would know for certain that she would be just fine traveling if he was with her, he could handle any trouble along the road. Plus he wouldn't be here in Kings Landing sitting on his thumbs waiting for something to happen.
And he would have some distraction from the dreams. And her beside him to settle them.
He sighs again, and thinks back to when he saw her last. In the throne room, not long after her brother had stared him down with visceral judgment. She hadn't looked at him that way, she'd looked at him with concern, as she always did when he started to crumble. It was quite disconcerting, how easily she saw through him.
If she was here she'd know immediately that he was in a foul mood, and would probably know exactly the thing to say to settle it.
But she wasn't here, which makes his mood fouler.
She'd said they'd talk soon, when he saw her last.
How long would 'soon' be now?
Alys
Alys knelt in front of Elia, bringing the flagon of water to her and letting her take it with shaking hands.
"Should we wait longer?" Alys asks, eying her friend who shook her head.
"No, we've stayed still long enough," Elia hands the water back before shakily standing. She glances in the direction of Howland stood by the pair of horses, smiling as he encouraged Rhaenys to pet the one, while holding a smiling and babbling Aegon near the inquisitive snout of the other. "Travel has never agreed with me, especially travel of the rough kind."
Alys glances away, "I'm sorry." She feels guilt bubbling and churning her own stomach, "I should have thought of that before dragging us out here with little planning." She looks back to Elia, who still watches her children. "I panicked, and perhaps was too hasty."
Elia looks back to Alys, "no, it was the right choice to make." She reaches, shaky hands taking Alys's. "A hard one, to be sure. But I believe the right one." She looks again to the children, "I feel miles better, even as ill as I am, with them out of the city and us on our way to my home and family."
Alys nodded, though she still worried over whether it was the right choice. But perhaps Elia was right, it was hard, but the best option for the three of them. And it is not as though they could return now, the only thing to do was continue forward.
It had already been over a week since they'd departed from Kings Landing. They'd sailed along Blackwater Bay all night until Howland steered them into the river that ran through the Kings Wood just as the sun began to rise over them. They stopped only at night from them on, using the boat to sail through the Wendwater and Howland keeping an eye on the surroundings for men and animals alike that tended to lurk within the woods. During this time they talked a lot on what their plans were for travel. Having to decide between the Prince's Path route to Dorne or the Boneway.
They were still contemplating it even now, finally free of the Kings Wood and camped outside a small town in the Reach called Grassy Vale from which they'd bought their horses using some coin Howland had and a necklace Alys had been wearing. They'd lingered here all the day before, Elia having woken the morning near feverish.
Alys wishes she'd thought of that more clearly. Perhaps she should have waited a few days more, done more planning so the journey wouldn't tire her friend out too harshly. She can recall easily the days where Elia had felt ill and she'd taken it upon herself to entertain Rhaenys so her mother could rest.
She should have thought about it.
But there was nothing to be done. Alys and Elia walk towards Howland, who is helping Rhaenys feed the larger of the horses a bit of grass from the palm of her hand. "Flat palm there, good." He smiles as Rhaenys laughs.
"It tickles!" she laugh-screams while the horse takes the grass off of her palm. Rhaenys glances towards the two women as they near and says, "Mama it tickles."
"Yes, I imagine it would," Elia smiles, still looking more tired than Alys likes but clearly ready to push onward. "I can take Aegon now, thank you Howland."
Howland nods, handing over the toddler who coos and babbles "mama" as Elia takes him in arms.
"I'm thinking the Boneway will be our best route south." Howland tells her as the pair of them begin packing up the small camp they'd made. "We're less in the open and the only town we'll have to worry over is Blackhaven, the rest we'll come across are Dornish and as such pose less risk." Alys nods and glances to Elia who gives her support as well.
"You'll be able to navigate us through?" Elia inquires.
"Aye," Howland nods, "bought a map from a lad in town, and besides, I've got some tricks up my sleeve for navigating the wilds."
"Crannogman secrets?" Alys inquires with a smirk.
He returns the smirk but does not elaborate before motioning toward the horses. "I'll ride with the little princess, you girls ride together with the baby on the larger horse."
Alys nods, and soon enough the group of them are returned to the road and heading south towards Summerhall and the entrance to the Boneway path.
Alys was reminded in their travels that she wasn't a fan of traveling.
She much preferred staying in one place. Preferably someplace comfortable, and safe, that she considers home. Or at least someplace comfortable with people she enjoys and loves.
She doesn't so much mind going to new places, she simply dislikes the road between.
Lyanna loved the road, loved travel.
When they'd departed from Winterfell for the first time, heading south towards Riverrun with Brandon to meet his betrothed, she'd been ecstatic about it. It had been near impossible for Brandon to keep Lyanna from riding ahead the whole way south.
Alys remembers a morning somewhere south of the Neck but before they'd reached the crossroads when Lya had convinced her to go riding ahead. The pair of them had raced along the open road and Brandon had had to track them down when Lya decided they needed to take a break near the water of the Green Fork and eat some of the food she'd swiped before they'd ridden out.
The two girls had leant back in the sun and the green grass, with the sound of the river accompanying them as they ate and talked and laughed. Lyanna had stated then that she'd rather spend all her days wandering Westeros and the world than marry Robert. Alys, as she always did, tried to tell her it wouldn't be as bad as she believed. Lyanna, as she always did, shook her head at Alys's attempts.
It had been a good day.
When Brandon had joined them they'd raced once more, and when Alys, the weakest rider of the three, fell behind he'd come back for her so she wouldn't be alone the rest of the way to where Lyanna and him had stopped ahead.
Alys greatly misses them both.
She wonders if Lyanna had enjoyed her own journey to Dorne. Had she taken the Boneway, like Alys's group was? Or had she gone the Prince's Pass… how far into the desert country did she and Rhaegar even travel?
She had to force herself to focus on things other than Lyanna, or Brandon, or family in general. It all either made her worry or made her sad. She focused instead on the small group she traveled with.
Howland was a welcome familiarity, a northerner and a friend from before, the pair of them found easy conversation.
They talked, only a few times, on Lyanna. Howland had been just as close to her as he was with Alys, their time at Harrenhal having brought the three together. It was an easy friendship to form. They were only a year apart in age, and with Lyanna having defended the crannogman against those squires and the three of them working together to enter Lyanna in the lists as the knight of the laughing tree.
"Have you thought of why?" he inquires one night, nearing three weeks into their journey and only a day or so past Summerhall and on the Boneway proper.
Alys nodded, looking towards where Elia was lying asleep with Rhaenys curled against her back and Aegon in her arms against her front. "I think she thought herself in love." Alys fiddled with a stick, stoking the fire before them a second to watch the sparks fly up into the dark sky.
"Had she even met him before it all?"
Alys bit her lips, worrying them heavily before sighing and knowing she can talk with Howland on this. If she knows anything about her friend, it's that any secret is safe with him, "during the tourney." She twirls the stick between her fingers. "After her last joust, after you'd left her to hide the shield… he came across her apparently. Discovered that she was the knight that had caused all the fuss."
"She never said…"
"She didn't even tell me about it until months later." Alys had wondered at that, worried over it. All their lives she'd believed that the two of them had never kept secrets from the other, everything one of them knew the other was not far behind to learn. Was that the first time her sister had kept something from her?
Did she even have a right to be upset about it? Does them being twins mean they couldn't have their own secrets?
"That's why she didn't show up till dinner," Alys tells him, "she was with him. She hasn't even told me what they did, if they just talked or more."
"And that's why he crowned her." Howland supposed.
"I suppose." Alys nods, "perhaps he'd wanted to give her a reward for her skill, or perhaps he'd started to care for her." She sighs, dropping the stick and bringing her hands up to run over her face. "Then almost a year later we came across him near Harrenhal again. And not long after that they ran off together."
"Robert Baratheon is certain he kidnapped her," Howland states, "I think that's the general belief across the rebels actually."
"It's what Brandon believed too." Alys says, staring down into the fire. "I still don't know whether I should have said something to him about it, if it would have changed anything."
Howland reaches and squeezes her shoulder, but seems at a loss for words to say for comfort.
Alys sighs and wishes Howland a goodnight before settling onto her cloak for rest.
As she lies, looking up towards the stars she longs momentarily for Jaime and the comfort he's granted her for so long. She'd had a similar conversation with him, and he'd said all the right things to settle her worries. She hopes for not the first or the last time that it will not be too long before she sees him again.
Thank you as always for the favorites as well as all your amazing comments! It really makes my day to see your thoughts on what happened and your theories as to what might be coming!