This chapter was written as part of the Facebook challenge "Sur Votre 31":
- Invite : ''Silver''.
- Number of words: From 100 to 1000 words.

All the universe of Game of Thrones belongs to GRR Martin, DB & DW.

Enjoy reading!

As soon as he set foot in Winterfell, Jaime knew there was going to be a problem.

He was about to be led before Daenerys Targaryen and his allies.

He knew the interview would end badly. After all, he had stuck his sword in his father's back.

Certainly, in doing so, he had saved the lives of half a million people.

But what was the life of half a million people for a girl who had grown up without a father?

The four Unsullied who surrounded him opened the heavy oak doors leading to the Great Hall of Winterfell.

The last time Jaime had stood here was less than ten years ago, but it might as well have been a century or more.

He remembered watching Cersei, sitting at the large table, on the dais that overlooked the assembly, dominating it as any sovereign is supposed to do.

Robert sat at one of the modest wooden tables in the middle of the room below the dais, drinking and groping the breasts and buttocks of the girls on duty, without the slightest regard for his wife.

He could remember how it had boiled him, to see that disgusting boar married to the most beautiful woman of the Seven Kingdoms, to his Cersei, and not even deigning to care for her, or at least her dignity, when he could not have her and they had to be content to live out their great love in the silver glow of the moon, they, the two golden twins blessed by the Sun itself.

And now he was back to where he started.

But without Cersei.

Oh, of course, it was for her that he was there.

For her, and for their baby.

For Cersei.

Everything had always been for Cersei, everything was always for Cersei, everything would always be for Cersei.

She was his reason for living. Her other half.

He wasn't whole without her.

If he had to die to protect her from death, then he would die.

She was the real reason he came north, to attack the White Walkers and the Army of the Dead.

But this, Daenerys Targaryen or the others would never understand.

No one ever understood anything about it.

He had bled for Cersei, more than he had bled for anyone in his entire life.

And he would have bled again and again, if she had asked him to.

Because blood is the seal of our devotion.

The crowd of Northmen massing in the room in preparation for the arrival of the Kingslayer split in two as the four eunuchs flanking him pushed him into the center of the room, where everyone could see him.

They were all there.

Daenerys Targaryen, with her silver hair.

Jon Snow, with his air of permanent gravity.

Sansa Stark, who no longer looked like the maiden he had met at the Red Keep.

Bran Stark, who no longer looked like the kid Jaime had thrown from a tower when he had caught him having sex with Cersei. He had a misplaced expression now, as if he was lost in thought.

And Tyrion

Tyrion, sitting at Daenerys' right, his hand badge as golden as their sister's hair, as golden as the sun.

Tyrion, who had finally found the recognition he had sought so much.

He crossed Daenerys' gaze.

A look that froze his blood for a brief moment. He had seen that look before.

He had already seen it in the eyes of the Mad King, just before he began shouting at the pyromant to light the wild fire under King's Landing.

Burn them all.

But what was he doing here, being probed again by that look?

''Ser Jaime Lannister... You came here alone, without the armies promised by your sister... Why?''

''Cersei never intended to put Lannister's armies at your disposal.''

Daenerys looked angrily at Tyrion.

''You promised me... You promised me that you had succeeded in changing her mind... in convincing her to help us...''

''Tyrion had nothing to do with it. Neither he nor I knew about it, my lady.''

The Unsullied standing behind Jaime on the left, hit him with the shaft of his spear.

''Not "my lady''. Your Grace.''

Daenerys looked at Jaime again:

''So be it. I can believe you didn't know what your monster sister was planning...''

Jaime felt the rage rise inside him.

How dare she, what right did she have to call Cersei a monster, she who had burned thousands of people alive?

''... but you have to bend the knee if you don't want to be considered a traitor.''

"No.''

His answer was without appeal.

He would not bend the knee.

Not in front of her.

Not in front of someone who wasn't Cersei.

Daenerys appeared surprised:

"No?''

He crossed his brother's gaze, right next to the Targaryen girl.

He shouted silently to him to say yes, to accept, to bow, to bend the knee, please, Jaime, please, if you don't do it, she will kill you.

Jaime turned his eyes away from the eyes of Tyrion, and planted them straight into the eyes of the Mother of Dragons.

"No," he confirmed.

"Then you are a traitor.''

''I am not a traitor. I cannot pledge allegiance to you, because I have already sworn allegiance to my sister, who is, for the time being at least, the only anointed and legitimate sovereign of the Iron Throne. I am like Jon Snow. I cannot serve two queens. And I already serve one.''

His golden queen.

It would be to pledge allegiance to the silver-haired maiden while he had his golden-haired queen who would be betrayed.

And he had betrayed her enough already.

He wouldn't become an oathbreaker again.

Not with Cersei.

Thank you for reading!
Please take the time to leave a little comment, it's always a pleasure ^^
Don't be too hard on English, it is not my mother tongue.