Author's Note: Ok, here it is. Jaime's back! The romance will now slowly come into play. Both Amarah and Jaime still have some growing to do as people and they need each other's help to do that. It will be a fun ride though so enjoy!
Amarah was overcome by a great sense of relief when she finally spotted the walls of Riverrun on the horizon. They had ridden all day over the rough land stopping only when necessary for small amounts of time. The red sun had sunk beyond the hills hours ago and a sharp, biting wind now swept across the plains as they rode on. Pulling her cloak more closely about her shoulders, Amarah gritted her teeth against the cold and continued on. All the while keeping those welcoming walls within her sights.
After what seemed an eternity, their company finally cantered across the drawbridge of the keep. As they rode in Amarah noticed several corpses mounted on poles across the top of the stone wall. Squinting in the darkness, she saw the gleam of Lannister gold on the dead men. Her theory about Tyrion's plans to release his brother must have been correct. However, due to the corpses that now lined the wall, she doubted the attempt had been successful. Breathing a small sigh of relief at that reassurance, she followed Catelyn and her men into the courtyard before dismounting. She found it took a few moments for her to work the soreness from her limbs before she could properly walk again.
Brienne caught sight of her stilted movements and seemed to understand the source of her discomfort. "Give it a moment, my lady" she advised her. "The pain will lessen soon."
"I'm fear I'm not as good a horsewoman as you" Amarah admitted with a grunt of pain as she twisted her body around trying to restore the feeling to her lower limbs.
"It takes practice" Brienne replied with a modest shrug.
Amarah gave a harsh laugh at that advice. "Well it would appear that I need more."
After a few moments, she came to the decision that she would rather be sore within the warmth of the keep rather than out in the cold, muddy courtyard. So she began her way inside with a small grimace of pain as she hobbled along. However, Brienne's words proved true as the feeling slowly returned to her legs leaving more of a dull ache than the sharp pain from minutes before. She doubted though if her delicate bottom would ever recover from the beating it had taken over the past three days from her saddle. With that morose thought, she entered the great hall where the servants were already scrambling to prepare the table for their late arrival. Amarah heard her stomach rumble in appreciation at the sight of food. They had not had a decent meal since departing the stormlands and all that riding about the countryside had given her quite an appetite.
"Come, Brienne" she ordered her lady knight who had followed her inside. "I'm not ashamed to admit I am famished after our journey. You must be hungry as well."
"I will wait to eat with the men, my lady. There is no need to concern yourself with me."
Amarah turned to her lady knight with ill-concealed impatience. "There is no reason for you to eat with the men. You might wear armor instead of a dress and you might walk and talk and fight like a man but you are still a lady. You cannot stop being what you are, Brienne, whether you want to or not. And you will eat with me and Lady Catelyn as is entirely proper."
Not stopping to hear any more arguments from her over that order, Amarah went to join Catelyn who already sat at the table near the large fireplace at the end of the room. As she walked briskly in that direction, Amarah listened to hear the stubborn shuffle of feet as Brienne followed her. Her words to the lady might have been a bit harsh, but Amarah was too weary at the moment to give much consideration to anyone else's feelings.
"Where is your brother Edmure?" Amarah questioned her aunt once taking her seat at the rough-hewn table where all manner of food had been placed before them. She had been expecting the man in question to make an appearance at there arrival, but he was no where to be seen.
"My men say he has gone to the crossing with his army to stop Gregor Clegane's forces from further invading the riverlands."
That explained his lack of appearance but not the sight that had greeted their eyes on the way into the keep. "Why are there slaughtered Lannister guards on display above the wall?"
"They came here under false pretenses, my lady." This answer came from one of the Tully soldiers who had come in to greet them. "They came back with one of the Lannister prisoners from King's Landing after he had brought us the Joffrey's answer to King Robb's peace terms. We fed them and offered shelter, and they repaid us by attacking our men to free Jaime Lannister."
"What happened?" she asked intrigued by the tale.
"The Kingslayer escaped where we were holding him in the tower before we were once again able to apprehend him, but not before he killed a good many of our men. He's been moved to the dungeons where we're keeping him chained up until King Robb comes back from his battles. We can't risk him escaping again."
Catelyn turned to question him now after the story was finished. "How long ago did this happen?"
"Just after you and Ser Edmure left the keep, my lady. About seven days ago."
"What have you done with Jaime since then besides chaining him to a wall?" This question came from Amarah.
"We have guards watching over him day and night to make sure he causes no other trouble" the man assured her. "We've given him some food and water but not much since the supply is scarce."
Amarah understood the need to retain what little supplies they had since Gregor Clegane had been moving through the riverlands pillaging and burning everything in his path. Still, it would not do to have Kingslayer waste away from lack of nourishment. He was a valuable prisoner and they could not afford to lose him to ill health.
Catelyn thanked the man and dismissed him before they finished their meal in relative silence. Amarah was still very sore, but the warmth from the fire which slowly seeped into her chilled bones helped her forget the pain in other regions of her body. She looked to Brienne who ate in silence as well staring into the leaping gold and red flames of the fire but made no attempt to engage her in conversation. Once they had finished, Amarah took a loaf of bread from the table and tucked it under her arm before asking Brienne to procure a flagon of water from the kitchens. Catelyn looked to her with a questioning gaze over her strange actions.
"We cannot leave him to rot down there without any food or water" she answered with a helpless shrug of her shoulders letting her aunt guess to whom she was referring.
Catelyn did not look too pleased by her intentions. "You intend to show kindness to the man who threw my son from a tower because Bran saw him committing incest with the queen?"
Amarah hastened to assure her that kindness was not her motivation. "You mistake my intentions for an act of kindness aunt. He is a valuable prisoner and we cannot lose him to illness because of malnourishment. How do you ever expect to regain Sansa from his sister's clutches if he dies in Riverrun's dungeons? I assure you if Jaime dies, then the queen would not hesitate to take her revenge on Robb's sister."
It was a harsh truth but an honest one. Catelyn finally relented with a defeated slump of her shoulders. "I suppose you are right."
"Thank you" Amarah said before bending down to give her a comforting hug. She understood Catelyn's reluctance to show mercy to Jaime, but Amarah needed to reassure herself that he was not on the brink of death. She had claimed it was not an act of kindness, but it was. Not for Jaime but for the brother that loved him despite his despicable and dishonorable nature. Without Jaime, Tyrion would be left with very few people in the world that cared about him. Despite his other faults, Jaime did truly care for his younger brother, and it was the only trait he possessed that kept Amarah from despising him entirely.
Soon Brienne returned with the water that Amarah had requested and she took a moment to collect her nerves before entering another match of verbal sparring against Jaime Lannister. She doubted his captivity had in any way diminished that sharp tongue of his, and she would have to be fully prepared to come out of this meeting unscathed. After taking a few moments to gather her courage, she began marching in the direction of the dungeons with a determined stride. It was time to meet the lion in his cage.
Jaime sat in the darkness of his prison cell counting the number of stones in the ceiling above to stave off the madness that threatened to consume him. After spending so many days chained up in this dark room it was becoming increasingly difficult to find ways of keeping his tortured mind occupied in the gloomy stillness. In reality he had lost count of the days and nights since he had been here with no windows in the dungeons to even let him see the light of day. Everything here was a dark as night and just as bleak.
Considering his warrior's nature that only seemed at peace when he was fighting in a bloody battle, it was a small wonder that he had not yet fallen prey to the madness that threatened him. But when the darkness tempted to cover his mind he forced himself to think of Cersei, his beautiful love who waited for him to return. He pictured how her green, temptress eyes would beckon him to her as she slowly seduced him into another bout of their violent lovemaking. He would think of Tyrion who knew him for what he truly was, not the monster that the entire world painted him to be. He survived this madness for them. The family he loved.
He was distracted from thoughts of Cersei and Tyrion when he heard a key turn in the door of his cell. The wooden door slowly creaked open before he was momentarily blinded by the glare of a torch that filled his shadowy prison with blessed light. Peering through the blurry haze, he looked to see who had joined him in his personal hell of darkness. Once his eyes had adjusted to the glare of light he looked into the icy gaze of Amarah Baratheon. He could not have been more shocked if Lady Stark herself had entered his cell naked from head to toe begging him to make good on his callous offer months before after the death of her husband.
Amarah was certainly not naked though. She no longer wore the silks and jewels of the capital which he was so accustomed to seeing her in. Now her luscious curves were swathed in the grey colors of house Stark which seemed to match so well the stony grey in her cold eyes. Despite her frigid demeanor though, she had lost none of her famous beauty. Her raven's black hair cascaded down to her waist in unruly curls giving her the appearance of the wildings that roamed north of the wall. She had the kind of loveliness that left him cold though. Not the fiery beauty of his sister which consumed his every thought.
"Well I must say this is an unexpected pleasure, princess" he drawled in a lazy tone after he had finally regained the power of speech.
And in a rare moment of honesty with the girl, he meant what he said. While she may have left him unmoved by her beauty, he found her mind her most attractive asset of all. Not many women in the seven kingdoms possessed the mental agility to stand up to his verbal assaults and come back with one of their own. But the icy princess Baratheon more than matched his skill with her razor sharp mind and equally sharp tongue, even going so far as to best him on some occasions. Not that he would ever admit it of course. He found the prospect of flinging gibes at that frozen wall of hers to see how far he could crack it much more entertaining than counting the stones that lined his cell.
"Oh I'm certain of that" she replied to his greeting with an unamused roll of her grey eyes. After this statement she turned back to the open door to beckon someone else into the small, cramped space. His surprise at Amarah's appearance only grew at the next person who entered his cell. Gods! What is that? he wondered as the beast faced him after closing the door.
Noticing his perplexed expression, Amarah made the introductions. "This is Lady Brienne of Tarth" she gestured towards the massive creature. It did not look much like a woman save for a pair of startling blue eyes in her freckled, ugly face. It was the only feature he could find that remotely indicated she was female.
"Jaime Lannister of Casterly Rock" he nodded his head at the creature in mock civility. "I must say, my lady, I have never seen anything quite like you. Or quite so ugly as a matter of fact."
The wench's face hardened in response to that rude insult but she gave no other indication that she had heard him. Amarah shot him a displeased look over his cruel remarks to her bodyguard. At least that was why he assumed she had brought the creature here. To defend her against the dreaded Kingslayer. Fortunately for both women he was bound by chains. If his hands had been free, no one could defend her from him. Most certainly not this thing that stood before him now.
"You look rather unappealing yourself" Amarah returned his insult looking him over with a disgusted gaze. He had not looked in a glass since the Stark boy had taken him captive, but his appearance was no doubt as wretched as her expression indicated. She leaned over a bit to inspect him more closely but suddenly jerked back with a repulsed expression.
"Gods!" she gasped before turning her head away from him to take in gulp of clean air. "You smell worse than you look!"
He took the insult in stride. "My apologies for the odor and appearance, princess. Perhaps we should call the guard for some water and a sponge for you to bathe me properly."
She looked more revolted by that suggestion than his unappealing smell. "Why don't I simply feed you instead."
She then produced from under her cloak a fresh loaf of bread that instantly caused his mouth to water once its smell reached his nose. He had barely been fed since being thrown into this dungeon so even a roasted rat would sound appealing to his empty stomach, but the bread she offered was a very agreeable alternative. Instead of handing it to him, she opted to toss it across the small space into his empty lap. Probably due to his smell which so offended her.
Forgetting his well instilled manners for eating in the presence of a lady, Jaime fell on the offering like the starving man he was. After the first few blissful bites, he forced himself to eat the fare at a slower pace. He doubted her generosity would extend beyond this, and he didn't know when he would be enjoying such a meal again.
Between mouthfuls of food, he managed to question her about the unexpected gesture. "I didn't know you cared enough to feed me, princess."
She looked at him with a blank expression he could not interpret before responding. "I didn't do it for you."
Interested by her response, he abandoned his meal for a moment to consider her with a penetrating gaze. She was a dammed difficult thing to read. With most women, his sister included, he could tell their feelings just by one glance at their faces. With this girl, it was different. Sometimes he could push her far enough with his well placed insults to glimpse the emotions she kept buried beneath that detached façade, but most of the time he was as mystified by her true emotions as the rest of the world.
"Might I inquire who inspired this kindness then?" he finally questioned after failing to read her thoughts.
At first it seemed as if she would not respond, but after giving a resigned sigh she finally spoke. "I did it for Tyrion. There are few people he truly cares for and for some unexplainable reason you happen to be one of them. He would not be terribly pleased to hear you had died from starvation while in my cousin's keeping."
Jaime had always been aware of her high regard of Tyrion, but he had not known how far that regard went until this moment. Her presence here indicated that she was on the opposing side of the war from his family, but she obviously still cared enough about his little brother to make sure the Kingslayer was still breathing. He had noticed from her first years in the capital how Tyrion had seemed to dote on the little princess that Cersei tortured daily. Perhaps Tyrion and Amarah had both found common ground in the fact that they both hated his sister. Whatever the cause, they had grown close over their years together in court, and despite the poison Cersei daily whispered in his ear about the "little whore" princess, Jaime could not hate the girl who had given his brother some small amount of happiness by bestowing her friendship on the little lord. However, at the moment he was curious just how much happiness she had given Tyrion.
"How surprising that you stoop to help a man you hate so much all for my brother's sake" he said letting his gaze roam crudely up and down her bundled figure. "Tell me, have you let my brother sample those abundant charms of yours?"
At this, the silent creature who had yet to move a muscle, suddenly pulled her sword from its scabbard and held it to his throat until he could feel the cold steel press against his clammy skin. "You should not address my lady with such insolence" she snarled at him.
"Brienne" he heard Amarah reprimand her in a sharp tone. The wench looked put out that she would not have the opportunity to separate his head from his shoulders, but pulled back with obvious reluctance before sheathing her sword once again. Jaime opted for silence in the case that the wench changed her mind. Normally he would continue to provoke her, but not with his hands chained together and a sword in her hands. He might enjoy torturing the wench but he was no fool.
Amarah made certain that her creature's bout of rage had passed before slowly approaching Jaime with something else besides bread under her arm. Jaime wondered if she had given in to the urge to kill him herself before he felt her press a cool jug of water in his shackled hands. After doing this she leaned even farther in, despite his overwhelming stench, to whisper something in his ear. As she moved closer he caught her scent which was so different from his own. She smelled like wind and fresh, cold air. She smelled like freedom.
"You'll never be the man he is" Amarah quietly mocked him in his ear, her soft breath tickling the small hairs at the back of his neck. "Say your prayers to the Seven, Kingslayer, for they are the only ones who can help you now."
After these words she pulled back robbing him of her pleasing scent and gestured for the wench to open the door. Giving him one last disdainful look she turned and left with the creature hot on her heels. Then they closed the door with a dull sounding thud, leaving him once again in the desolate darkness.
Please review! What did you think of a scene finally from Jaime's perspective? If you guys liked it I will definitely try to write more from his POV (but of course Amarah will still be the main point of view). Let me know what you think! Thanks so much for reading:)