Of course. Of course, Jaime Lannister would come home, rescue the youngest Stark girl, expect to be praised for it, and only manage to reduce both girls to tears and tantrums – doing absolutely no good whatsoever.
He stood watching his young wife compose herself. She sniffed once and wiped her eyes and then shrugged at him apologetically.
"I didn't realize she was so upset with me."
Seven hells. He should've just stayed in Lannisport.
He crossed to the couch and sat in the spot Merilyn had just vacated. He shucked his boots off and laid his head along the back. Inhaling deeply, and trying not to make eye contact with her, he stared around the room.
He'd been surprised upon Septa Aliane informing him of the Lady Lannister's whereabouts, but looking around, it made sense. As far as Jaime knew, only the servants in charge of housekeeping entered this room. He hadn't been in here since he was a child and his mother was alive. He knew both Cersei and Tyrion avoided it whenever they were back. Their father did not even set foot in this wing of the castle anymore. Servants whispered when they thought they were unheard about the late Lady Joanna and her presence in this wing.
So it made absolute sense that Merilyn would find it most comfortable.
Jaime growled and bit his tongue.
"She's homesick, not upset with you," he said shortly, "Give her time."
He saw her roll her eyes slightly and had to remind himself, not for the first or last time, that he preferred his wife when she wasn't meek and mindful.
"Arya is the one most excited by this trip. She's in new places –"
He cut her off, "She's uncertain. This new place is what is making her feel that way. She doesn't have security. Neither of her parents are here and as far as she knows, they might not ever be around her again. She's scared. Therefore she reacts the only way she knows how – with anger."
Merilyn crossed her arms, opening her mouth to retort and then closed it softly, falling down into her seat beside him. Her shoulders slumped and she sat next to him in a defeated manner. Wearily, she looked up at him and smiled ruefully for the first time. Jaime raised an eyebrow lazily, bringing his foot to his opposite knee simultaneously, settling into the couch further.
"Is there a reason for your sudden smiling?"
She shrugged apathetically, and Jaime recognized a perfect duplication of him, "Welcome home."
He chuckled softly, "And here I was hoping for a completely different welcome."
He saw her cheeks colour, but she held his gaze – an improvement, he thought if there ever was one.
"We've already learned, Ser, about the consequences of enacting such an activity during midday."
Jaime let out a light groan as the memory flashed through his mind, "Damn Willas to the Seven Hells."
Boots clicked on the floor, echoing near the entrance of the room and the aforementioned blonde walked into the room with a confused look, "My lord?"
The new Lord of Casterly Rock felt all hope for a specific welcome fade from his mind. It had been too much to even expect a small amount of privacy. He opened his mouth to rebuke his wife's shadow but Merilyn made the first sound, startling him and killing whatever words were about to fall from him. She was cackling, he surmised – actually cackling.
With her head thrown back, her laughter erupted from the back of her throat, filling the room, and her body shook from the force. Both Jaime and Willas stared at her, the younger in bewilderment and the other in slow-growing amusement. Letting go of the last bit of irritation he had, Jaime gave up and laughed with her, though his mind persisted that he was laughing more in resignation than in actual humour.
Willas only continued to look baffled as he looked from one Lannister to the other. Neither deigned to explain the joke to him and Merilyn started to laugh between gasps for breath as she saw Willas's confusion grow.
"My lord," the young boy ventured again, "is there something I've done?"
Jaime's smirk widened as Merilyn fought to contain herself. She took a shuddering breath and shook her head no, but couldn't respond any better than that.
"No, Willas," Jaime responded smoothly, "I was merely discussing the household with my wife and, as always, she praised you for your helpful service."
His tone was dry, but not unkind. Jaime understood the value of a loyal servant – whether the servant was more loyal to the Lady or Lord was unimportant. While Willas's timing was much less than perfect, he was fiercely protective and loyal to Merilyn and that made him irreplaceable to Casterly Rock - though Jaime would've quite preferred that Willas were a woman.
He felt Merilyn's body rise and fall as she took a deep breath and she smiled brightly at Willas, who bowed his head in recognition of the praise.
"Thank you, Lady. I was only coming here because travelers have brought word of the heat sickness in some of the smaller villages."
Jaime was already aware of this information. He had been warned at the first outbreak in a village outside of Feastfires. Though he had meant to tell Merilyn, he had obviously been waylaid by the young Stark girl. He heard his wife's sharp intake of breath and felt her body stiffen along his.
Heat sickness was one of the most terrifying illnesses that existed along the oceans. It laid its claim to mostly children, and it was exceptionally rare for adults to suffer it. Even worse, there were very few symptoms, nearly nothing to forewarn the parents of those afflicted until it was too late. One of the little symptoms was a fever which would spike in a ten hour period to an unbearable high and delirium would set in.
He felt a small hand slip into his grip and met Merilyn's terrified gaze, where reflected in her eyes were the outlines of her three young siblings. An unexpected urge to reassure – to comfort – her enveloped him. He caressed the top of her hand softly.
"It's safe, Merilyn. The villages have contained the sickness. I've sent two maesters to care for the ill. It won't reach Casterly Rock."
Willas nodded repeatedly, "Yes. Only four have succumbed to the illness, which is a low rate for this time of the season. Travel between villages is being monitored and I shall, of course, limit the exposure Sansa, Arya, and Rickon have with new or travelling staff. They're perfectly safe."
Merilyn smiled at him gratefully and gave breathless words of thanks. Jaime refrained from rolling his eyes angrily. Willas had only reiterated what Jaime had said to her, but he was the one being thanked and smiled at.
Merilyn stood and removed her hand from his. He felt the instant coolness at the loss of her body, and the bereft feeling made him sit straight up. He mentally berated himself and ignored the word that came to mind at his actions. Jaime Lannister was not jealous.
"Willas," he barked, and then almost winced at his harsh tone. The boy was young and stupid, but had done nothing (yet, a voice in his mind emphasized) to warrant his displeasure. He cleared his throat and began in his normal, authoritative voice, "Willas, Arya -," by the gods, he hoped that was the right name, "Arya was found playing down in the caves a little over an hour ago."
He watched, with a little delight he would admit, Willas's face pale, "I had no idea. I was in the yard – practicing with some of the lads. I thought she was watching – like, like she usually does."
Jaime waved a hand, "I don't need your excuses. Ask Boaden to start accompanying her when she wishes to go to the cave."
"Arya will try to avoid him," Merilyn objected, "She won't want a watcher."
"Which is why Boaden won't be her protector," Jaime countered, "he'll be her friend. She could use one."
Merilyn fell silent and turned to look back out the glass window, her gaze settling on a bird that was soaring by the nearby cliff. Jaime let his gaze scan her slowly. Her shoulders looked as if they were weighed down. There was no sign of the tall, proud Lady Lannister façade he saw so often when she was around the castle staff. This was the young girl from the North who was tired of thinking four steps ahead. She made such a lonely figure, standing in that window with the sunlight pouring in.
Jaime had been lucky, so he saw it. He hadn't ever been alone. His twin was so often with him. His shadow in a much more pleasant way than Willas was Merilyn's; Cersei had hardly been separate from him. And even when she had, Jaime had found himself amongst the Kingsguard, surrounded by men who had taken the same oaths as he had. They didn't have to actually like each other, but they were bonded in the same tasks.
He saw her eyes following the flying bird intently, and he briefly wondered if she would trade places with the animal.
He tore his gaze from her and back to the soldier who was shuffling his feet awkwardly, "Boaden likes swordplay. He was employed as part of the King's entourage earlier this year. Tell him to talk to Arya about being a knight. They'll hit it off grandly."
Willas bowed low and left the room. Jaime turned back to Merilyn who had walked away from the window and was standing behind the couch, looking down at him with a bemused expression. He ran a hand through his hair, uncertain as to what she was thinking. She spoke before he had to ask, he thanked the Seven.
"She's been my sister her entire life. I watched her grow, fixed her scraped knees, and taught her how to ride a horse. I never would've thought of such a quick solution such as Boaden as you did. You cannot even remember her name most of the time."
"I got it right just a moment ago," he interjected heatedly.
She half-smiled, "But to pair the two of them together was an inspired idea."
"I think you just fail to give me credit for my intelligence most of the time."
"I think you mostly just fail to show your intelligence most of the time."
Jaime's mouth opened partially as he looked up at his smirking wife. There's no way he had mistaken the teasing tone behind her words and the sparkle of challenge that lit her eyes. With a split seconds movement, he reached an arm behind the couch and around the side of her hips pulling her over the seat and onto his lap. She let out a small shriek and tried to twist away from his grip, which only tighten from her movement. He let out a low chuckle, enjoying her laughter again – more so this time, for he was the only one around to enjoy it. His hands roamed her body, lightly.
She paused her struggling and looked up at him, "Well, how was I supposed to know a former Kingsguard who could brandish a sword better than any other knights had the brains of a High Maester and in bed had the skills of," her cheeks reddened deeply and she broke off with a laugh as his hand swept along her stomach. He paused with his hand in the air, remembering something from long ago, and repeated the motion with his fingers arched. He smiled widely as she squirmed and let out another peal of laughter, her body trying to avoid his fingers.
"The skills of what, my wife," he teased, tickling her more intently.
She laughed harder, her body near convulsing and her fingers trying desperately to pry his away from her.
"Jaime," she breathed between laughter, "Jaaaai-MEE."
He laughed with her, "The skills of what?"
She shook her head and twisted her body. He stopped his tickling ministrations and looked down at Merilyn. She sagged in relief and took a deep breath.
"It seemed to me, my charming northern wife, that you were flirting with me."
She smiled widely, "If I had been, tickling as a reaction to my flirting is not the best response."
"You've already chastened me for trying to initiate another sort of response."
Her eyes flicked to the floor and then back up to him, and Jaime felt himself hope that he was now seeing lust in place of the teasing from earlier.
"My lord," she throatily whispered, "I didn't chasten. I only reminded you of what happened last time. Seeing as we've already been interrupted by the dastardly man who committed the crime last time, we may be in better luck now."