Note: Thanks for the nice reviews. Here's another chapter with some Jaime interaction this time but their relationship will be a very very gradual build. Hang in there with me! A significant part of Amarah's story is her love of Robb so that relationship is the main romantic focus in this chapter. She's been pretty hard-ass so far but this chapter shows a softer side of her personality. It was important for me if I was going to create a character for this world that she be a realistic personality in the harsh setting of the books. Pretty much every character in the books walks the line between good and bad but you still find yourself rooting for a good number of them and I wanted this character to do the same. Also, quick FYI. This story mostly follows the show for the first season but will veer off into more of the book story lines past the events of season one. It just works better that way with Amarah's journey. Enjoy:) Keep the comments coming please! I like knowing what you guys think.
Amarah entered Bran's sickroom slowly. The room was chilled save for a small fire burning in the hearth and young Bran appeared as sickly and pale as he had a few days before. Catelyn sat at his side working on stitching something together, but she looked almost as pale and drawn as her son.
"Aunt?" Amarah questioned softly before entering the room.
"Amarah" she replied with a weak smile. "Come in, please."
She entered quietly and approached Bran's bedside. He looked rather peaceful and thankfully his expression was devoid of any pain. Her throat constricted painfully at the thought of how close he had come to dying. How strange she thought that he should suddenly fall when he has been climbing about on these battlements for years. And how ironic that it should happen when the Lannisters are present.
She did not dare speak her suspicions aloud. If she even hinted at the fact that she suspected the Lannisters involvement in Bran's accident, she would probably experience the same fate herself, without being lucky enough to survive it. Look at what had happened to Jon Arryn. Discretion was key if one intended to survive in King's Landing, and unfortunately for Jon Arryn, he had not been discrete enough.
"I just wanted to say goodbye before we departed" Amarah spoke softly. She softly smoothed Bran's hair away from his cold forehead and leaned down to press a soft kiss to his brow. He stirred not at all and she stroked his little face gently for a few moments before rising again.
"He will be all right, Aunt" she tried to reassure her. There were tears pooling in Catelyn's eyes that she fought bravely to contain but she managed to give Amarah a watery smile. She was not convinced of Amarah's words, but neither was Amarah herself.
"Thank you, my dear" she spoke in a raspy voice. "I wish you a safe journey."
"Goodbye" Amarah replied before turning to leave the room. Before she had managed to exit the room she heard Catelyn call out her name. Turning questioningly she looked back at her Aunt.
"Please look after Ned" she said quietly as if afraid someone else would hear. "I am not in favor at all of him going to the capital, but he insists. Please try to see that he stays out of trouble."
"I'll do what I can, Aunt" she replied honestly. "But I'm afraid Uncle Ned has always been too honorable for his own good."
"That's what I'm afraid of" Catelyn whispered ominously.
"I'll look out for him as best I can" was all Amarah could promise. Giving a small nod of her head, Catelyn turned back towards whatever she was working on.
Exiting the room, Amarah made her way out towards the courtyard where many of the soldiers were preparing for the King's departure. As she approached the smithy, she could hear the sound of the bellows pumping back and forth and the hard strike of steel against steel. Spotting her cousin Jon, she began to make her way towards him.
Before she reached him, she saw Jaime Lannister had spotted the boy and approached him as well. Wearing that mocking smile she was most familiar with, Jaime approached the boy with a careless stride.
"A sword for the wall?" he asked eyeing the small needle-point sword the smithy was busy cleaning. Turning around in surprise, Jon saw who it was that addressed him.
"I already have one" he answered glancing toward the broadsword at his side.
"Good man" Jaime replied with a hint of condescension. "Have you swung it yet?"
"Of course I have."
"At someone I mean." When no answer came Jaime gave a slight grimace and continued on. "It's a strange thing. The first time you cut a man. You realize we're nothing but sacks of meat and blood with some bone to keep it all standing. Let me thank you ahead of time for guarding us all from the powers beyond the wall. Wildings and Whitewalkers and whatnot. We're grateful to have good, strong men like you protecting us."
During the last part of this condescending speech, Jaime clasped Jon's hand in a firm shake that men seemed to think proved their manhood if their grip was stronger. Amarah almost broke her silence at his infantile action, but continued to hold her tongue to allow Jon the chance to defend himself.
Jaime clapped Jon firmly on the shoulder after finally releasing his hand and turned to walk away. Jon did not seem prepared to let his honor go undefended.
"We've guarded the kingdoms for eight thousand years" he spoke defensively to Jaime's retreating back. Turning back slowly with an expression of surprise, Jaime addressed him again.
"Is it 'we' already?" he asked. "Have you taken your vows then?"
"Soon enough." Jaime regarded this reply with nonchalant acceptance.
"Give my regards to the nights watch" he replied, his tone laden with condescension once again. "I'm sure it will be thrilling to serve on such an elite force. And if not, it's only for life."
He turned to leave once again, but something inside Amarah couldn't stand for him to have the last word, especially when his speech was hypocritical in the extreme considering the king's guard took on the same oaths as the night's watch. They also swore to take no wife, sire no children, and own no lands. The only difference between the two was the color of their capes. One gold, one black.
"Pay him no mind Jon" Amarah finally spoke, loudly enough for the Kingslayer to hear. Jaime turned back once again to regard her with a shrewd expression. "The night's watch is an honorable charge. Something Kingslayer here wouldn't know if it shit on his golden head."
"Ah, my lady" he answered with that cutting smile that never failed to prick her temper. However, today she was determined not to let the bastard get the best of her. "A word of advice. It's best you watch your tongue or you might find yourself sharing the same fate as… say the latest Hand of the King."
Jon looked shocked that he would threaten her so blatantly, but Amarah had enough experience with Jaime Lannister to not give in to his taunts. Eyeing him with an almost feral smile, she slowly approached him with a sensual swing of her hips. To her perverse satisfaction, she knew it affected him despite himself.
"We both know, Kingslayer, that if my father thought you capable of harming one hair on my head, he would have yours decorating a spike atop the gates of the city. And what a pity that would be, such a pretty head as yours" Amarah said, imitating the same scornful tone Jaime had used with Jon.
"My deepest apologies, my lady" Jaime's voice rang with false sincerity "if my words were taken as anything but concern for your well-being."
"Oh fret not, ser" she replied with equal sincerity. "I could never think you capable of harming one you swore to protect."
To her immense satisfaction, she saw that her words had hit the mark. His jaw tightened considerably and she could see him mentally steeling himself not to react to her words. Taking a deep breath, Jaime bowed stiffly without saying another word and left the courtyard. Amarah could barely contain her glee at having finally managed to best the man in a battle of words and wit, but she managed to retain her outwardly calm composure before turning to face her cousin.
"The night's watch is not an easy task, Jon" she said in a much kinder tone than she had used moments before. "Are you sure it's something you wish to do?"
"I need to go where I'll be of some use" he said earnestly gazing at her with a somber expression. "Somewhere I can be more than Ned Stark's bastard son."
"You mean more than that to me" she said kindly taking his cold hand in hers. She loved Jon deeply, albeit in a different way than Robb. She couldn't explain it, but she had always felt bound to him by some invisible cord that joined their souls together. Playing together as children, she had always felt close to Jon. Probably because she too had felt like an outsider, despite their differences. He had become her childhood confidant and closest friend. When she found herself in that nest of vipers called a capital and discovered she could trust no one, her thoughts strayed to Jon and the quiet talks they might have shared together.
Looking at him now, she understood his need to leave Winterfell. The night's watch may not have been the easiest path to choose, but he certainly would not be an outsider there. The watch was full of bastards, rapers, and thieves who had chosen the wall over death or social exile.
"I have to go" was all he said. Giving him an understanding smile, Amarah leaned forward to kiss his unshaven cheek.
"I understand" she said after pulling back and cradling his face in her slender hand. "I wish you the best, cousin."
"Thank you" he replied with the first smile she had seen him give since arriving at Winterfell.
Giving his face a soft pat, she stepped away from him and made her way towards the stables. The cold wind whipped her hair wildly about as she hurried on. She had chosen to leave it down on this day, forgoing the option of pinning up in her usual style. As this was her last day at Winterfell, she wanted to experience the fullest extent of freedom. Once they returned to the King's Road she would once again have to become the princess her father expected her to be. A living shrine she thought bitterly as she entered the stables.
Walking past the various stalls toward her mount, she stopped by one of the horses that was trying to eat something out of a feed bucket that was beyond its reach. Feeling a brief tug of pity for the creature, she stopped to rearrange its bucket. After the horse was able to reach its food, it nuzzled her hand in a gesture of affection. Giving a soft chuckle, she stroked its nose with a soft touch and whispered little words of nonsense to soothe the creature.
"She can be a temperamental little thing" came a voice behind her.
Turning in surprise, Amarah met her cousin's direct gaze. She had managed to skillfully avoid him for most of their visit, but she was glad he had taken the time now to seek her out. She would regret it if they did not have the chance to speak before her departure.
"She's beautiful though" Amarah replied, turning back once again to nuzzle the horse's soft nose.
"She's named Amarah" he said coming around to face her. "It was Arya's idea. She thought it showed true spirit, like you."
"A horse named in my honor" she said with a wry twist of the lips. "How flattering."
"You leave today" he said, suddenly turning serious.
"Yes."
"Maybe I'll visit the capital someday" he said, but not very convincingly. Amarah knew that Robb would never be happy in the South.
"There must always be a Stark in Winterfell" she reminded him kindly. Reaching out to take his hand she waited for his gaze to meet hers. "I will miss you though. I have for nine years you know. Sometimes when I feel so alone that I can hardly hold back the tears, I think of you and Jon. Of how we used play together in the cold air and run about like untamed wildings. And I think of you, and that little chain of flowers. I haven't forgotten you know."
"I never thought you did" he replied. As she had spoken, Robb had taken her hand and moved to cradle it at his breast. She should have prevented the intimate touch, but she found she could not deny herself this one small pleasure. Some dark feeling deep inside told her that this was the last time she would ever see him. She suddenly felt overwhelmed at the depressing notion and pushed it away as quickly as it had come. He'll always be with me she told herself stubbornly.
"Robb I…" she began desperate to tell him what she felt, but she could not bring herself to do it.
"Shh" he crooned softly, pulling her to him until her head was cradled on his chest and she could hear the steady beat of his heart. "I know."
They stayed like that for a few moments, or minutes. Both seemed to lose track of time. Robb smelled of the winter air and the slight odor of horses and sweat, but she found it a pleasing scent on him. His hand came to stroke her tangled mass of curls as he continued to hold her close.
"I must go" she finally said with regret, but she made no immediate move to leave.
"Will you marry some noble in the capital?" Robb asked ignoring her previous comment.
"Perhaps" she answered languidly. She was suddenly becoming quite comfortable in his arms. "However, my father seems in no hurry to arrange it. You'll have to marry soon enough though. I'm sure any young lady would be happy to have you."
At this statement she pulled back far enough to look up at his handsome face. He didn't seem so carefree now as he had before, but separation was a part of life. And he knew they could never be together, just as she knew it in her heart. Part of her wanted him to suffer the same as she, but the other hastened to ease his troubled mind.
"Once you have a wife and children of your own, you'll forget about me you know" she said giving him a small smile.
"I will never forget about you" he said fiercely, as if trying to reassure himself as well.
"Oh Robb" she said taking his kind face in her hands. "It would be best for both of us if you did."
After saying this, she promptly kissed him. He seemed surprised at first, almost as surprised as she. But he returned the gesture in full measure and she soon found herself locked in a passionate embrace of teeth, tongue, and lips. After a few moments, she finally managed to end the kiss and attempted to calm her racing heart. Memorizing each feature, she gazed at him for several moments of silence, punctuated only by the sound of their heavy breathing. Finally, she reluctantly pulled away from the embrace.
"Farewell, cousin" she whispered.
Fiercely holding back the tears that threatened to fall, she forced herself to turn and leave the stables. To leave him. And somehow, she knew, they would never meet again.