Waking to the musical thrill of birdsong at the side of his wife was something Jaimie was convinced he would never tire of.
It had been three years since they had left Winterfell, bound for the sapphire isle.
And though there was a pang of guilt when he thought on it, Jaimie was glad for his family and glad they remained apart from the wars in the North and those of his sisters making.
Slipping out of bed and shrugging on a silken overcoat, Jaimie pushed past the light lace separating their room from the balcony overlooking a sapphire sea and looked out at the harbour.
The last few years had been a heaven Jaimie could barely believe he was experiencing… and one he hardly thought he deserved.
On the understanding that Brienne and Jaimie would return to Tarth and take no further part in the coming battles, the little Baratheon Queen had chosen to spare their lives and gave them a boat for their journey.
Jaimie would have preferred to take the Kings Road but it had been deemed too treacherous. And, he supposed, the Queen in the North had a point. Aside from the usual cut throats and thieves you would expect to see across the war-ravaged land, Jaimie also pondered the very real possibility his wife and child may be subject to contract made out by his dearest sister.
Making the decision to travel by boat was the wisest course of action, for his head, if not his stomach. But less than a week later, Jaime crawled off the boat to observe his wife and daughter being enveloped in the arms of the Lord of Tarth.
They were home.
And their family grew in their years of exile.
They were also blessed with a son, Jason less than a year later.
Tywin had sent word of his pride in the birth of his Grandson and heir (having sent congratulations on Melony's arrival into the family in a far tardier fashion and insinuating a hope she was fair and worthy of further advancing marital ties to the Lannister family; a thought not appreciated by Brienne).
Congratulations had also reached him from the North as Tyrion and his fellows pushed back against mounting hoards. Their battles were recounted with an infrequency that caused him concern for his brother… each letter telling of losses.
Jaimie had attempted to convince his father, in writing, to lend the Capitals support to the Northern plight… but Tywin simply dismissed the tales of giants and ice-warriors as Tyrion's plot to draw the Northern armies into a trap.
As a military-man, Jaimie supposed it was a tall-hope to expect his father to fight the almost impossible when he was facing a very real border wars and insurrection of the Tully's. The Blackfish had holed-up within Riverrun and was ably defeating the overly confident and ever-deluded Frey's… Jaimie wondered how long his father would tolerate the incompetence of his ally.
But then…Jaimie supposed his father had everything he needed to control the country in the present; Tommen was a mailable King, the Tyrells eager in-laws with suitably deep pockets and his sister had wed the Tyrells most powerful and stanchly loyal bannermen in the Tarwells… With the Baratheon and Stark eyes truly focused beyond the wall, it seemed the south up to the neck was certainly controlled by the Lannister's.
And Jaimie?
He and Brienne were happily on an island away from it all.
Happily removed from the battle.
Away from the danger of their friends…
… their family…
"Daddy!" The excited squeal pieced his morning reminisce.
The impact of a small body slamming into him was painful type of delight he had become accustomed to as this daily tradition played out and he sprang upward to tickle the delighted child who laughed and cried out that she had not known her father was awake.
While Brienne groaned and turned herself in their bed, sleeping off the nights exertions, Jaimie looked to the doorway, where their nanny held the hand of his youngest child and asked in a quiet voice, "What are the plans for today."
The grey-clad girl laid out the schooling of the day and reminded him Brienne had planned to hunt in the mid-morning.
Jaimie nodded, still holding and now showering kisses on the head of his daughter who half-heartedly attempted to gain her freedom.
"Do you give up?" He asked her.
"No!" She cried, so like her mother.
"Are you going to go to school," he asked between delivering kisses to her forehead and cheek.
"No!" She giggled.
"I'll just have to tickle you some more!" He exclaimed, doing just that until all that could be heard was laughter.
"Stop," the child giggled in delight, "Stop Daddy!"
As requested, Jaimie bundled his daughter up in his arms to deliver her to the foot of her nanny.
"Now, Melony… you be a good girl and look after your brother today."
Still giggling, the little girl threw a rough arm around her smaller sibling and lay a kiss of her own on his cheek by smashing their faces together.
This earned a slobbery grin from the toddler in question, "Medody…" he mispronounced, pushing at his sister.
"Come now," the grey woman intoned with a sing-song quality, "time to let your Daddy go about his day…" and she turned the two children, expertly, down the corridor.
Jaimie wondered at how he had been blessed with such miracles.
There were times he felt he didn't truly deserve it.
Silently, in a bid not to further disturb Brienne, Jaime made his way to the balcony of their wing.
In the dawn of a new day, Jaime felt the warmth of the sun and closed his eyes against the contentment radiating from his very skin.
To think! The King slayer… the hated and spat upon could be so happy…
An unexpected coolness kissed his face…
Jaime opened his eyes…
Three, dragon-shaped shadows passed over the morning sky; bigger than horror could imagine and blocking the sun. Their screams pierced the peace of the dawn causing his wife to bolt upright in their bed.
A deep-seated but familiar dread filled him…
"Jaimie?" Brienne asked, wondering if it had all been a dream.
"Good morning, my love," he greeted in solemnity, "we are at war."