She dreamed of Gendry that night. She dreamt she was watching him at the forge as she had so many times before. She had watched him for weeks really before he had ever kissed her. She was supposed to be looking for Sansa and when she found him again she couldn't leave, she just couldn't. She kept finding excuses to stay at the inn near his smithery and excuses to go and talk to him during the day. And just when she'd finally found a reason to leave, he'd come up with a reason to make her stay. The game had gone on for three months before she stubbornly decided that she had to leave, she had a duty to her sister and she must go find her. She'd marched out of the blacksmith shop determined to never go back. But he had gone after her and caught her around the waist and kissed her and then she never left. Now in her dreams she was back there again, watching him as he forged steel with his hammer, shirtless.
Arya woke with a start to a cold empty bed in her room at Casterly Rock. She reached for Gendry. He wasn't there. She refused to burst into tears again. Refused. She sat up and dragged her wounded body out of bed. It was still the middle of the night. Someone had left her sword Needle on the table in the corner of the room and Arya agonizingly limped over to the table and picked up her sword. Someday she was going to kill that dragon bitch but it wouldn't be with this sword. She would send for one of the swords that Gendry had made first thing in the morning. There should still be some left. Pate the inkeep would send them if she asked. One of Gendry's blades would be the one to kill the Queen.
Arya couldn't go back to sleep. Not after that dream. She put the sword into the ties of her robe and limped to the door of the room. There was no one out in the hallway. Everything seemed quiet. Down at the end of the hall she saw some sort of weapons chest. She made her way slowly there and opened it. One of those spears could work as a walking stick. She lifted several until she found one she liked the feel of and she took it out and used it to lean her weight onto. It helped a lot to have something to lean on as she walked. She went back up the hallway the way she had come, the spear thudding on the floor more than she would have liked. She made it past the door of her own bedchamber and was just passing Jaime's door when it was wrenched open, Jaime stood there with a quizzical look on his face.
"What are you doing, going to battle?" He asked, eyeing the spear and the sword.
She sighed. "I couldn't sleep. I was just going for the walk."
"I seem to remember telling you that walking was a bad idea." Jaime said.
"And when you said it, I seem to remember thinking, fuck off."
"Ah well, I can't read your thoughts. Though I did suspect you wouldn't be inclined to take my advice, even if it was for your own good."
"If you're finished, I'd like to keep walking." She said testily.
"I'd hardly call it walking. Whatever it is I can't let you do it alone." He said pulling the door to his chambers shut as if to follow her. "Lead the way."
Arya really hadn't wanted his company but decided it would be best not to say so. She had to try to get along with him in spite of the confusing mess of feelings his proximity gave her. They didn't speak much after that. Arya found it difficult to speak. The further she went the more pain she was in. Jaime noticed.
"Perhaps we've gone far enough." He suggested.
"I'm fine." She insisted, dragging herself further and deeper into yet another passageway of Casterly Rock. She knew it the moment that she had gone over her limit but by then it was too late. Her vision went blurry, her legs crumpled beneath her, and she heard the spear clatter to the floor.
When she awoke in the morning she was back in her room. Jaime sat in a chair at her bedside. His arm was bandaged up but he was somehow still bleeding through the bandage. She took a quick look around the room and saw that her sword was back on the table where it had been the night before.
"What happened?" She asked him, slightly confused.
"You blacked out. I caught you and carried you back here but not before that sword of yours stabbed me through the arm on your way down." Jaime said.
"All the way through?" She asked, slightly concerned, though she didn't know why she should care.
He nodded. "All the way. Maester Gavin had to remove it from my forearm before he could tend to you. You really ought to get a sheath for that thing."
"I will." She agreed. The lack of a sheath had never troubled her before. "Where's the spear?"
"I expect someone has put it back in the cabinet by now."
"Might I keep it in here next to the bed?" She asked. It irked her to have to ask his permission for things. She could have just as easily told him she going to do it whether he liked it or not but she knew that wasn't the way these things worked.
"And go wandering around the castle in the middle of the night again? I don't think that's a good idea."
"I'm not going anywhere. I just would like it nearby so that I know I could walk if I had to. If there were an emergency…" She tried not to let her voice betray her fear of being helpless but she knew that it probably got through to him anyway.
"Fine. You can have it back here if you promise to rest."
"I promise." She agreed.
"And I believe I promised you the pleasure of my company today. So tell me, do play cyvasse?" He asked her.
She did know how to play cyvasse. She was actually quite good at it but Jaime was good too. By the time of the noon meal they were tied at having won four games each. Two maids brought in their meal for them as Jaime had asked, rather than leave Arya to eat alone.
"I was thinking." Jaime said as the servants cleared away their meal. "That perhaps you'd feel up to going riding?"
"I could do that." Arya said, as if she would merely tolerate it when in reality she would have done anything to escape that horrible room for a little while.
"Good. I'll be back to get you in a little while." He said taking his leave. He sent two maids in as he left who helped her change into more suitable clothes for riding. A short time later Jaime returned. "Are you ready?"
"Yes, but no one has brought back the spear yet." She said a little worriedly.
"You won't need it." With that he went to the bed and picked her up to carry her out to the horses.
She wanted to protest, to scream at him to put her down but the words caught in her throat. Her mind immediately went back to the wedding night. She had tried so hard not to think about it. She didn't want to think about the way he had kissed her neck and sucked on her breasts. She tried not to remember the way way he had felt inside her and now with her head on his shoulder, his arms holding on to her, breathing in his scent, she couldn't think about anything else. By the time he placed her on the horse her thoughts were scattered and she did the best she could to bring her breathing under control.
Jaime mounted his own horse and led the way out of the courtyard. Four household guards followed at a distance.
"Where are we going?" Arya asked when she finally found her voice.
"We can follow the road towards Lannisport or we can go to the beach. Which do you prefer?"
The beach. Arya's thoughts took her to another time and place. She had been on the beach in Braavos at night and had stumbled onto a couple making love. She'd been too young when she had last seen her mother to have been told the basics of what happens between men and women and though she had seen a few incidents in a brothel, those people had all been clothed. On the beach, in the moonlight she could see everything. She had been disgusted with the scene and left quickly but not before she heard the woman make a comment about the beach being romantic. Then later, after she had married Gendry she understood the appeal of the beach as they shared a bath one night.
"Which do you prefer?" Jaime asked her a second time.
Arya felt her face flush with heat, "The road towards Lannisport is fine." She told him.
"Lannisport it is." Jaime said and she thought he seemed amused by her answer.
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Jaime found that the road to Lannisport was quite boring. The only thing interesting about the entire day had been Arya's unexpected reactions to him. She had definitely reacted to the closeness they shared when he carried her to her horse. Having her close hadn't been at all unpleasant for him either. Perhaps it hadn't just been the wine. Then she had been flustered a second time when he mentioned the beach. It didn't take much imagination to figure out why. She wasn't a maiden when he had taken her, he was sure of that, but in some ways she acted as if she'd had very little experience with men. Maybe she hadn't had much.
"Can I ask you a personal question?" Jaime said, pulling his horse up alongside hers. His men were far enough back that they couldn't hear the conversation.
"Alright." She agreed almost reluctantly.
"How long were you married for?"
Her face saddened but she gave him an answer all the same. "Only ten days."
"And you were a maid when you married him?" He went on. He knew she wouldn't like the question. He didn't care. It had never bothered him to make people uncomfortable with his words.
"Yes! Why does that matter now?"
"I guess it doesn't. I was only curious." Jaime said.
Only ten days. That explained a lot about her response to him. She was practically still a maiden. And she had married a man close to her own age who likely didn't have a lot of experience with women. Some part of her still disliked him, he knew that and expected it. However she was drawn to him as well. If he were going to keep her from running away he was going to have to use that to his advantage. Somehow.
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They only traveled a few miles from Casterly Rock that day. That was as far as they were officially permitted to go. Not one of Jaime's men would have said a word if they'd gone further but there were commoners who might spread rumors and of course the Queen had spies keeping an eye on them too. Once they were back at the castle, Jaime helped Arya down from her horse and carried her back to her room. He walked more slowly this time as he carried her, giving the guards time to go on ahead of them and leave them alone together. His arm still hurt from when she had fallen earlier but he ignored it. He could feel her racing heartbeat against him. He would have believed it was panic if not for the way her head lay relaxed on his shoulder and the way her free hand rested on his chest. When he reached her room, he bent to set her on the bed and stayed close enough that his lips brushed against her neck and ear as he let her go. It was just a light kiss really and barely even counted as one at all. He felt her intake of breath at the sensation and then he pulled away, leaving it at that.
Her eyes met his and he saw a mixture of confusion and desire there. "What was that for?" She asked. She wasn't angry, it was more like disturbed.
Jaime shrugged. "No reason." He watched her for a moment as she seemed to be struggling with what to say to him. "I'm having dinner in the great hall tonight. I'll have your spear sent up along with your meal if you still want it."
"I do still want it." Arya said, relieved at the change of subject.
"Why not just send for a cane or a walking stick?" He said with a shake of his head. "It seems like it would be more practical. And it would be safer for everyone around you if weren't running around with unnecessary weapons." He said glancing at his arm.
"That's not my fault. I didn't ask you to catch me." Arya protested.
"What was I supposed to do? Let you fall?"
"Maybe. I don't know. If I saw some random Lannister falling I don't know that my first instinct would be to catch them." She said honestly.
"Arya, you're not just some random Stark. Not now." He said referring to the fact that they were now married.
She gazed at him skeptically and it was easy to guess what she was thinking. She doubted that their family history could be overcome so easily. She doubted that their being married would have made any difference at all, especially coming from an oathbreaker like him. But for some reason she kept her thoughts to herself and he found that he was grateful that she did.
"Let me put it this way," Jaime went on. "I've been a knight for too long to not rescue maids who need rescuing." He said.
"Maybe I don't want to be rescued." Arya protested.
"Apparently you don't know what's good for you." He moved towards the door. "I'll see you after dinner." And with that he was gone.
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Arya was fuming by the time Jaime left the room. What did he think he was doing trying to make it seem like she was some helpless maiden who needed rescuing? Did he expect her to thank him for catching her? Was she supposed to look at him like some gallant knight who had injured himself in her defense? The worst that would have happened if he'd let her fall might have been a few new bruises. She'd had lots of bruises in her life. They didn't mean anything. But instead of letting her get a few bruises he injured his stupid arm and would probably have a permanent scar from it. And why would their being married make any difference? Sure, he made vows to love and protect her but the vows hadn't meant anything, not to him. His behaviour didn't make any sense at all.
Her thoughts drifted back to what had set off her anger in the first place, that kiss. Couldn't he have simply set her on the bed without all that? The feeling of his lips ghosting across her neck… his arms had still been around her then...she wasn't ready to feel anything like that. Not so soon. Not yet. It wasn't fair to Gendry. He'd only been gone a few weeks. After the execution the queen had immediately put her on a ship headed for Lannisport. Those few weeks had been agony. Her men were given orders to carry out the flogging as soon as the ship landed so that she could be tended at Casterly Rock. No one tended her knee or shoulder on the ship. She was locked alone in a cabin, in pain, and just wanting to die. Wanting to die after becoming a widow certainly made a lot more sense than getting drunk and fucking another man did. She couldn't have feelings for Jaime Lannister, she just couldn't. It complicated things far too much. This was his fault. He needed to stop doing stupid things like carrying her places and catching her when she fell and kissing her when she wasn't expecting it. He was taking advantage of her bereavement. She decided she would do her best to hate him for that.
The evening meal was brought up along with her spear. A servant leaned it against the wall near her bed. She didn't notice until after they left that there were markings on the wood of the spear near the head. That hadn't been there before. She pulled herself out of bed to take a closer look. There, freshly carved into the wood of the spear was a small direwolf. She didn't know what to think about that.
It was a while after dinner when Jaime came back. She expected that he would simply check on her and say good night as he had done the previous night. Instead he came into the room, at on the edge of the bed and pulled his boots off.
"What are you doing?" She asked. He had better not be planning to sleep with her.
"I can't very well let you go wandering around in the middle of the night again. I'm sleeping in here." He said.
No. She didn't want that. It wasn't that she was afraid of him. It was that she had woken up crying and sobbing so much in recent days and she didn't want him to see that. No one needed to see that. "I'm not going to go wandering anywhere. I've learned my lesson."
"Good, but I'm sleeping here all the same." He said.
"And if I ask you not to…?" She began worriedly. She didn't think that demanding would work with him or she might have tried it.
He met her eyes. "Arya, nothing is going to happen. I'm only planning to go to sleep and there won't be any wine. Maester Gavin says you shouldn't have any wine now anyway."
She sighed. If she fought this further he would believe she was afraid of him. She had been a little afraid of him the first night but she wasn't anymore. And she couldn't tell him the reason she didn't want him to stay. She could only hope she didn't wake up crying. "Fine." She conceded almost against her will.
"It's fine that you shouldn't have any wine or fine that I can sleep in here?" He asked.
"Both. But you can do whatever you want anyway. You're the lord of Casterly Rock." She said, a little angry.
"It's not like that Arya. If you say no, I'll leave." He told her.
"Then I'm saying no." She said, not believing that he'd really meant it.
He nodded, accepting her answer. "Good night then." Jaime picked up his boots and left.
"Wait!" She called after him and he stopped. She hated the prospect of being alone almost as much as she didn't want him to see her cry.
"You can stay."
He turned back around and climbed into bed next to her.
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Jaime suspected that Arya was probably feeling very conflicted about letting him stay. She would have to be. She had just lost her husband and been forced into a marriage with an enemy of her house. Maybe he'd taken it too far in kissing her earlier that day. He wanted to give her reason to stay but he didn't want to take advantage of her. Not really. He wasn't going to be able to protect her if he pushed her so far that she decided to run away. And he did feel protective of her. Arya had arrived at his feet injured and bloody on the orders of Daenarys Targaryen. He knew what her father Aerys had been. It had made him furious that there was another Targaryen who now had the power to hurt people like Aerys had. Tyrion insisted that Daenarys was better than Aerys. That she at least tried to be fair even if she did fail in it sometimes. There was nothing fair about what had been done to Arya. She and her husband could have been banished to Essos, sent to the wall, confined to Winterfell, anything besides executing the man and flogging his wife. It had troubled him for years that he had failed to keep his vow to Catlyn Stark and find her daughters. Sansa had finally turned up, married to Harry the Heir and seemingly happy but no sign of Arya had ever been found. Now that he'd found her, he had a duty to keep her safe for the sake of his vow to Catlyn and for the sake of what he had tried to end when he killed Aerys all those years ago.
Arya didn't sleep very soundly. She tossed and turned a lot in her sleep and kept waking him up. It was the middle of the night and Jaime had been woken by Arya's restless sleep for the tenth time. He was reconsidering sleeping next to her at all and ready to go back to his own room when she woke with a start. She sat bolt upright and gasped for breath.
"Arya?" Jaime asked, concerned.
She leaned over and grabbed the spear at the bedside. "I need to walk."
"Alright, I'm coming with you." He said, he didn't make it optional.
They hadn't gone very far and Jaime could see that it was already becoming painful for her to walk. "Why do you do this to yourself?" He asked, watching her try to manage another step. "There's no reason to be on your feet while you're still injured."
"Because if I'm in pain then I only have to think about the pain." She told him honestly.
"You can't injure yourself just to avoid mourning." He said, though not unkindly. "I've lost people too...it won't work."
"You mean Cersei?" She asked him. Everyone knew that Cersei had been executed nearly three years earlier by the faith of the seven.
"Yes." He admitted.
"Is it true, the rumors that Stannis Baratheon spread? Is that why my father died, because Joffrey was yours?" She asked him.
He sighed. She wouldn't like it but he might as well be honest with her. She probably already believed it was the truth anyway. "It's true."
She wrinkled up her face as if disgusted but said nothing. Then her expression changed to one of pain. She had put too much weight on her injured knee.
"Let's go back." Jaime said. "Even if you hurt yourself now, you'll still miss him once your leg is healed. There's no sense in doing this to yourself."
"I'll always miss him. I've accepted that." She said. "What I can't accept is that I keep seeing those flames…"
"Flames?" Jaime wasn't sure what she was talking about.
"Dragonfire. She had him executed by dragonfire." Arya said, her voice breaking.
"Gods…" He didn't know what to say for a moment. "I saw Aerys burn men alive. I hoped that the Seven Kingdoms would never know such horrors again."
"If that's why you killed him why did you wait so long? Why wait until your father arrived to sack the city?" She said with confusion.
"I was the youngest Kingsguard. My sworn brothers knew what Aerys was and told me that it was my duty to protect him, not to judge him. I believed them. Or at least I tried to until he ordered all of Kings Landing burned by wildfire and for me to bring him my father's head." He told her.
Her eyes widened. "The whole city?"
He nodded. "The whole city."
"Did my father know this?" Arya asked.
"I never told him. I've hardly told anyone."
She sighed. "House Targaryen is fucked up. And you're right, we should go back now."
He followed her back to the bedroom and once she was in bed he went to his own side to try and sleep. Maybe they would both dream of fire after this.
