Stick Them With The Pointy End… Or Not

Jaime I

Jaime had twenty-seven years to his name when Cersei decided she wanted another child.

Joffrey and Rohanne had six and five years respectively, and Cersei was beginning to miss having a babe in arms. The two oldest no longer needed their mother nearly as much as they used to, Joffrey having developed a keen streak of independence and Rohanne following her older brother's example.

It wasn't uncommon to hear the happy screams of children as the siblings ran amok around the Red Keep, terrorising maids and nobles alike. Cersei and the children's septa did their best to get them to behave, but it was a rare thing indeed if they managed it.

That's not to say that they didn't respect their mother.

Jaime had never seen two children – not that he saw many other children, in truth – that adored their mother as much as Joffrey and Rohanne did. They clung to her every word as if she hung the stars and would follow her around like ducklings all day if she allowed them to.

None of that changed as they grew, of course, but at six years Joffrey was beginning to disdain his mother's bedtime stories and her embraces – encouraged by Robert.

"You coddle the boy, Cersei! He's the future king not a lackwit!" He had roared in the throne room once after Joffrey had fallen and sought his mother's comfort.

Cersei had given him a baleful glare but the damage had been done. Joffrey no longer enjoyed her hugs as he once did and out of solidarity Rohanne copied her brother.

Not for the first time, Jaime thought that if Rohanne had taken entirely after her mother she and Joffrey could have passed as twins. Yet, to Jaime's secret satisfaction, it was only Rohanne's sleek black curls that made her stand out. When she was around eight moons old, her deep blue eyes began to change. By the time she was almost two years old, it was accepted that her eyes would remain the colour they had turned – the vivid green of her mother.

Cersei had been delighted, as had he. It had taken Robert a great while longer to notice the change and he had barely reacted beyond a grunt. His fascination with Rohanne had faded just as rapidly as it had with Joffrey until he interacted with her only when necessary or when he was feeling paternal, as rare as that was. Rohanne did not seem to notice this change, as she couldn't remember a time when her father had been anything but a hairy man she saw on occasion and who sometimes gave her a pat on the head.

It gave Jaime a great deal of personal satisfaction to know that of the two men, he was Joffrey and Rohanne's favourite.

"Nuncle!"

"Uncle Jaime!"

Two small voices shouted as he turned around the corner and he barely had time to crouch and open his arms before he was accosted by two equally small bodies.

"If it isn't my favourite prince and princess! How are you today?"

Joffrey grinned widely, showing off the gap in his front teeth.

"Look I lost a tooth! I'll get grownup ones now!"

Jaime looked closer in mock confusion.

"I could have sworn that tooth wasn't ready to come out yesterday, Joff."

Joffrey opened his mouth to speak but Rohanne interrupted.

"I helped nuncle!" She grinned too but cried out in childish anger when Joffrey pushed her.

"No you didn't!"

"Yes I did! You couldn't get it out so I helped!"

Jaime saw the scowl form on Joffrey's face and decided to head it off.

"How did you manage to help, Rohanne? Teeth normally fall out by themselves."

"I hit him like he asked me to!" She said, her eyes closed as she smiled widely.

Jaime thought she looked entirely too proud of that fact and turned to Joffrey.

"Did you ask her to hit you?"

Joffrey pouted and mumbled something. Jaime cleared his throat and Joffrey spoke again, louder, with a blush growing across his face.

"Uh, maybe. But I don't think it helped! It would have come out by itself."

Rohanne rolled her eyes in an overexaggerated way.

"Yes, but I helped it come out faster!"

Sensing another argument starting, Jaime decided to end it.

"Rohanne, you shouldn't hit your brother, even if he asks you to. Joffrey, don't ask your sister to hit you, no matter the reason. Do you two understand?"

They both looked ready to argue but when he raised his eyebrows they both gave in.

"Yes uncle." They chorused, looking at each other as they did.

Jaime stood up and allowed Rohanne to take his hand. Joffrey ran ahead a bit, gesturing for them both to follow.

"Mother isn't well, nuncle. I think the baby in her belly is coming out." Rohanne said, clutching onto Jaime's hand tightly.

"Stupid! The baby isn't in her belly Rohanne." Joffrey said, his nose in the air with all typical tone of a child who is certain he knows about these things.

Rohanne frowned.

"Yes it is, Joffy. Father told me so. That's why it got so big." She said, looking up at Jaime in confusion, asking him to confirm her statement.

Jaime nodded, silently praying this is as far as this conversation would go.

"But that doesn't make sense. How did it get in there? And how does it come out if it's so big." Joffrey said, stopping his walk ahead of them and turning back to stand in front of Jaime.

Both children looked up at him, waiting, and he cursed to himself.

"Your father planted a seed inside your mother's belly. The seed grows into a baby and then the baby comes out. That's why your mother's belly got bigger and bigger as the baby grew."

Rohanne's intent gaze relaxed – this seemed enough for her. But Joffrey's nose remained crinkled.

"But how did father put the seed in there? How does the baby come out without hurting mother?" Joffrey said, his voice getting louder as they turned around another corner.

The sight of the child's septa standing stiffly but patiently outside of the queen's chamber was a welcome relief for Jaime. He shooed the children towards her.

"You should ask your septa. I'm sure she would be perfectly willing to answer all of your questions Joff. I have to see to your mother now."

Joffrey seemed off put and unsatisfied, but he joined in when Rohanne wished him a cheerful farewell and to pass her love to her mother.

Jaime knew that the children's septa would answer no such questions, but it was highly likely that she was better fending off their curiosity than he was. They were too young to be wondering about such matters.

He returned their waving and entered Cersei's chambers just as a maid was rushing out with orders to fetch the maester. Robert was no doubt already leaving on his traditional hunt. By this point, they no longer bothered even trying to keep Jaime out of the birthing chamber.

He was greeted by Cersei's harsh panting.

"Breathe easy, sweet sister. I'm here."

Myrcella was a sweet little thing, all rosy cheeks and fine light hair.

Jaime knew without a doubt that this child was his, but the visible reminder was always welcome. He and Cersei had planned it all down to the smallest detail when they had both agreed she would have another babe.

She had stopped taking regular doses of moon tea when Robert had stopped sharing her bed regularly, but she had been careful to avoid becoming with child in the years after Rohanne. She didn't regret either of the children but having Rohanne so soon after Joffrey had been exhausting for her. After they decided together to conceive again, she stopped all moon tea and made sure to wake up in Robert's bed in the mornings when he had been drinking particularly heavily.

The great fool didn't seem to question it at all, assuming he had simply claimed his marital rights as a husband while in his cups, as he tried to avoid while sober due to the cold nature of his wife.

Jaime was grateful that Robert had given up any attempts to placate Cersei, though he loathed standing guard and having to listen as the king dishonoured his sister with the scores of whores that came and went.

As it was, there was no question in Robert's mind that the blonde little princess was his own, taking after her Lannister mother. Jaime would love nothing more than to claim his children as his own and truly earn his moniker of Kingslayer, but in this way, they were kept safe. Like this, they were princes and princesses of the realm, the highest of the nobility – and while Robert's position as their 'father' irked him greatly, he wouldn't jeopardise their safety for his pride.

Never, he thought, as he smoothed his hand over Myrcella's little head. She was smaller than Rohanne had been, but just as beautiful, if not more so. She looked the image of her mother in a tiny baby, a small and precious gift from the gods.

"Give her back to me, brother." Cersei said from her seat across the table.

Her arms extended and she raised her eyebrows expectantly. Jaime reluctantly handed over his newborn daughter to her mother. Cersei held her protectively to her chest after ensuring she was wrapped up well.

"Peace, sister. There's no one here."

It was true. They were sitting quietly in the nursery suite, the children fast asleep in their small beds in another room and the wet-nurse who fed Myrcella during the night was fetching her supper from the kitchens. Jaime had slipped into the nursery just after the woman had left, taking the chance to spend some time with his sister and their new daughter.

He loved his sister dearly, but over the past few years she had become increasingly concerned about how close he was to the children. She was frightened of Robert's reaction, scared of any conclusions he might reach if his blood was up – conclusions that might ring too close to the truth.

Jaime had tried to convince her there was no cause for fear – Robert was an unobservant fool. If he hadn't discovered the close relationship he shared with his sister, he was unlikely to realise that two of the three children weren't his. In a way, Jaime was thankful that Rohanne had been born when she was. Her dark hair threw off suspicion from Joffrey and Myrcella – it may be hard to believe that Robert Baratheon fathered only golden-haired children, but a child who resembled him and the others who resembled their mother? It happened in families all over the land.

Cersei did not feel this blindness on Robert's behalf was worth risking their and their children's lives, however, and had all but demanded him to spend less time with the children.

He had tried to understand, he did. Bitterness was not something he had ever truly felt towards Cersei before – but her determination to deny him the children hurt more than he ever thought it could.

When he was given the chance to steal in and spend some time with his loved ones, he wasn't pleased to be met with rejection.

"I do not care, brother. I won't risk Robert hurting them." She whispered sharply, curling her hands tighter around Myrcella.

"He suspects nothing! You know he's blind to everything that doesn't have two tits and open legs." Jaime said derisively.

Cersei didn't reply, but Jaime did not think he had convinced her one bit.

"How is she?" He gestured to the baby.

His sister's eyes lightened and she took a deep breath. Her shoulders were less tense now and she relaxed back into the chair.

"She's a sweet babe. Not nearly as loud as Rohanne or as demanding as Joff. I nearly forget she's here sometimes until she cries. This one is a born lady." Cersei said before pressing a fond kiss to Myrcella's cheek.

"A kind little princess then." Jaime said before changing the subject.

"Do you know what I found Rohanne doing today?"

Cersei rolled her eyes. "Following Joff and causing mischief, no doubt."

He shook his head. "Surprisingly no. She was pestering Ser Mandon as he stood outside their playroom. Asking to see his sword."

Cersei looked up from Myrcella to him and raised an eyebrow.

"He didn't show it to her, did he?"

Jaime shook his head and smirked. "No, but I think she was about to try to order him. I've never seen that man's eyes look so relieved when I took her back to Joff."

Cersei shook her head in what Jaime knew was fond exasperation.

"I never know what to make of that girl. For a moment, I am certain that she'll make the perfect lady, and then I find her asking to see swords and trying to fit into armour. At least Joff behaves like a proper prince."

"It's just harmless curiosity, Cersei. The only playmate she has is Joffrey, of course she is going to imitate him in some ways."

Cersei sighed while shifting Myrcella from one arm to the other gently.

"Perhaps I should send for a cousin as a companion for her. She needs another girl to play with… Myrcella is too young…" She trailed off.

"What she needs," Jaime interrupted, "is to get it out of her system. Let her play around with toy swords for a while."

"As I recall, dear brother, I did the same thing, and all it did was make me want it more. Gods, I hated father for stopping my swords lessons. I found it so unfair that you got to play with them and I couldn't only because I was a girl. I was better than you, but because I didn't have a cock between my legs I was forbidden from handling a blade." Cersei said, a wry smile on her lips.

He knew that a part of her was still bitter about it, even now.

"I don't want that for her Jaime. I don't want her to have something she wants torn from her grasp because she was born a girl. I don't want her to resent her brother for getting to do something she isn't allowed to. He's already started to learn."

Jaime was silent for a moment. "Then let her."

Cersei cocked an eyebrow and her lips twisted.

"I'm serious! The only reason you never got to learn was because everyone was too damned scared of father to disobey him. Even if Robert forbade it, there's one person here who is perfectly willing to do it anyway."

"And who would that be?" She asked, reaching out for the glass of water on the table.

"Me."

She swallowed her water and exhaled slowly.

"You can't be serious."

"Perfectly. Let me teach her, even if it's only one small lesson. She may not even care for it. But if she does, we can continue, in secret. She is a princess after all and she may grow into a beauty. This world is dangerous for beautiful princesses."

Neither of them said her name, but both were thinking of Elia Martell.

"She'll have guards, Jaime, perhaps a sworn sword-"

"Neither of which will protect her from her husband."

Jaime could see Cersei's argument die on her lips as her eyes darkened and he knew he had convinced her.

Rohanne was young now but she would grow. Grow until she flowered and then she would be married off to whichever house her father desired. There would be no one there with her best interests at heart, no one there to protect her should her husband be cruel or careless, no family.

When that time came, neither he nor Cersei would be there to protect her. She would have to protect herself, and Jaime would see her armed with the best defences. She was a Lannister and Lannisters must never be weak.

"She's only five." Cersei whispered.

"Yes. Better we start early."

"Hello, nuncle. Would you like some tea?" Rohanne said, pouring some water out of her toy teapot into a small cup.

Her hands shook with the weight of the teapot but she continued valiantly until she had served them both.

"Yes, I would, thank you." Jaime replied, lifting his cup to his mouth and taking a sip of the lemon water no doubt pilfered from a maid.

"Delicious. You are an excellent hostess, Princess Rohanne."

Rohanne beamed in response and gave a clumsy curtsy in her pale blue dress. Her black hair was pinned back into a small plait and she had a small ruby gold pendant her mother had given her on her nameday tied around her neck, which she wore at every opportunity. Jaime suspected it made her feel grown up.

She climbed into the chair opposite him with only a little difficulty and sipped on her own cup.

"Thank you very much, Ser Jaime." She said, stumbling over his name but finishing proudly. "You asked me for an au-audance?"

Jaime inclined his head politely. "Yes, princess, I did ask you for an audience. How kind of you to make time for me."

Rohanne beamed at him again and giggled. He smirked back. She seemed to enjoy all of the courtesies now, but he had a feeling she might grow tired of them soon enough.

"Please tell me what I can do for you, Ser Jaime." She said, small fingers picking at the lace on her dress betraying her impatience.

"Well, princess, it's more about what I can do for you."

That seemed to get her attention. Her eyes grew wide and her lips twitched excitedly. All of her manners were quickly forgotten.

"What is it, nuncle, what is it?"

"I was wondering if you would like to see my sword?"

Rohanne stared at him, slack-jawed, before she quickly gathered her wits.

"Really? Oh yes, yes please!"

She was positively bouncing in her seat as he stood up and when he unsheathed his sword from the scabbard he kept at his waist, she froze at the metallic swish sound. He lay his sword gently on the table in front of her, catching her small hand as she reached out immediately to touch it.

"Be very careful, Rohanne. It's very sharp and could easily slice off your fingers by accident."

She gasped quietly and retracted her hand quickly but her gaze remained fixed on the blade.

"You can touch the flat part, see?" He guided her hand slowly to the fuller and ran her fingers along it.

"It's cold." She whispered, running her fingers back and forth herself now that Jaime was sure she wouldn't catch the edge by accident.

Rohanne leaned forward slightly.

"The edge looks very sharp, nuncle."

"It is. What do you think of it?" He asked as she looked up at him. Her brow furrowed.

"What do you mean?"

"Do you like it?"

"… I suppose so? It's pretty."

Jaime chuckled. "Swords aren't supposed to be pretty, Rohanne, but I know what you mean. It is very shiny."

She frowned. "What are swords for then? If they're not supposed to be pretty?"

"People have swords so that they can protect themselves or their family." He said, comprehension beginning to dawn on him.

"But how? How does a sword protect people? Joffy says that swords are meant to hurt people but I told him that you have a sword and you would never hurt anyone."

He couldn't deny the small happiness he felt that at least one person believed he wasn't a bad person – even if he now had to disillusion her of that.

"Sometimes you have to hurt bad people who try to hurt your family. There are bad people out there, Rohanne, who hurt other living things that can't fight back. They don't do it because they have to, they do it because they can, because hurting others makes them happy. It is the people like this that sometimes you have to hurt, because if you didn't they would hurt more people for bad reasons. That's what knights do. We protect the good people by hurting the bad people." He said slowly and quietly, trying to emphasise the importance of his words.

Rohanne remained silent, staring at the sword, but he felt relieved when she reached out to take his hand.

"I'm sorry you had to hurt people to protect us, nuncle." She said, her voice especially serious for a five-year-old.

Jaime was struck dumb for a moment before he took the small hand in his into both of his and squeezed gently.

"Never, ever be sorry for that, Rohanne. I am not. I will never feel sorry for it because I would do anything to protect you, your mother, Joff and Myrcella."

"Oh." She said and looked up to him. "I want to protect you too nuncle."

This was it. He would do his best to ease her into it.

"You can learn, if you would like to?"

"To protect you? How?"

"I can teach you to use a sword."

She pulled back her hand and frowned, while Jaime cursed silently. He had been too blunt.

"But I'd have to hurt people."

"They would be bad people, Rohanne. Bad people who would want to hurt you and your family. Maybe your mother, me, or Joff. They might even want to hurt Myrcella. Don't you want to know how to protect them?" Jaime said, trying not to lay on the manipulation too heavily before remembering she was only five. She wouldn't reject it out of spite.

Rohanne shook her head in confusion. "Who would want to hurt 'Cella? She's just a little baby."

"The bad people, like I told you. They don't care who they hurt, only that they hurt people because it makes them happy."

"What about Joffy? He's learning to use a sword. Why can't he protect us?" She asked.

He would think she was clutching for straws if he didn't know she was just a little girl who didn't want to hurt anyone. A large part of him felt guilty for this, but an even larger part regretted nothing, knowing he would never be able to stomach the look on Rohanne or Cersei's face if she was ever in a situation without protection and no way to protect herself.

He didn't want to have to see the same bruises that sometimes appeared on Cersei's fine cheekbones on Rohanne's. The rage that boiled in him the first time was like nothing he had ever felt before, and he knew he had scared Cersei that night in his fury. At a time when he should have been soothing his injured sister, he had been out of control. He had destroyed the small room she had dragged him into and ignored all of her distressed attempts to calm him.

It wasn't until she had thrown herself bodily at him to stop him leaving the room to kill Robert that he had registered her terrified, battered face and swept her into his arms. It had taken all of her powers of persuasion and then some heavy-handed truths of their situation to talk him into standing down.

Even now, thinking about what that beast had done and continued to do to his twin made him hunger for vengeance. One day he would pay back in kind and finally begin to make amends for failing to protect Cersei. When he finally died and ended up in one of the seven hells, he would gladly accept whatever punishment he was given – because no punishment could be worse than being forced to do nothing.

The thought of this happening to Rohanne or little Myrcella when she was older… it kindled a dangerous heat under his skin and he would do everything in his power to prevent it. While he would prefer to slaughter any guilty parties himself, if it took handing the girls a blade to stop anything from happening at all…

He was entirely willing to do that.

They would become fiercer than any Dornish warrior before he allowed either of them to become sheep.

And if Rohanne had to be a Baratheon then she would be a stag, never a doe – her enemies would learn to fear her sharp antlers and her fury.

But first he had to make her see that.

"What if Joffrey isn't there, Rohanne, and I'm not there? What if you are all alone with only baby Myrcella and a bad man comes, trying to hurt her? Would you let her get hurt because you didn't want to hurt the bad man?"

"No!" She cried out, frustrated tears beginning to form in the corners of her eyes.

He knew he had made his point. Rohanne was as stubborn as Cersei and if he pushed any further she would dig in her heels.

"It's alright, Rohanne. Don't worry." He said soothingly, holding her hand once again. "I'll let you think about it. There's no hurry."

He stood up again and sheathed his sword swiftly. He offered a gallant hand to his niece and she took it hesitantly, still slightly upset.

"Come on princess, let us go and visit your mother. I sure she will have some sweetcakes for us, and we might find your brother."

Rohanne brightened up at that and before long she was chattering loudly as she skipped alongside him towards Cersei's rooms.

All seemed to have been forgotten – but Jaime still caught the last long, considering glance she gave to his sword and thought perhaps it hadn't all been in vain.

A.N. This is the second of four sort-of prologues and then we're onto the main chapters, which will mostly be from Rohanne's point of view. The next update will be from Robert's perspective and contains a rather significant event. Any guesses?

I've updated today because I've decided to make Friday my update day - so you can expect a new chapter every week (barring any real life interference). Please enjoy this chapter and tell me what you think :)