Chapter 2

Jon

Today was a new day to move forward. With King Niklas in power, it was time to make plans for his reign. All of the king's advisors sat at the Small Council, serving as heads of the government of the Seven Kingdoms: Renly, Eyron, Varys, Baelish, Pycelle, and Selmy. They were all members during Robert Baratheon's reign with the exception of Barristan Selmy. The late king never invited him to the Small Council simply because he was loyal to the Targaeryans, but Ser Barristan was the Commander of the Kingsguard, a sworn brotherhood to protect the king with his life. However, it did not seem that Ser Barristan minded that he was not present since he had no interest in politics, but King Niklas must respect him enough to invite him to the meetings.

All of the members turned their heads to see their king descending the stairs with the Queen Regent following behind him. They all stood from their seats to greet His Grace and his mother. Ser Barristan grabbed a chair from the corner of the room and set it beside the king's chair. As soon as King Niklas reached his seat, he gestured for the rest of the members to take their place with the Queen Regent sitting to his right and the Hand to his left.

"Let's begin with the masque to honor my coronation."

"And how much do you wish to spend, Your Grace?" Littlefinger questioned.

"Forty thousand gold dragons on the food, wine, musicians, contortionists, fire breathers and fireworks, twenty thousand to the winning archer in the flaming arrow tournament, and ten thousand to the runner-up."

Everyone then turned to Littlefinger when Pycelle looked at him and asked, "Can the treasury bear such expenses?"

King Niklas's smile remained on his face, but his eyes turned hard, almost calculating Lord Baelish's words. "I'll have to borrow it."

"The Lannister House will accommodate, Your Grace."

The Queen Regent tried to soothe the situation by offering him kind words and a small smile, but King Niklas was not like his late father. There was no fooling him as the words sank through his head, and his response to those words always spilled out raw and slow, ringing truth or to uncover the truth.

"Oh, I have no doubt our House will accommodate, mother. However, I have the strangest feeling that this is not the first time where we had to borrow money for the Crown's pleasure, so tell me, Lord Baelish, how much have we borrowed under my father's rule?"

His voice did not sit well with anyone. It was dominating and candid, and everyone knew it as he stared at Littlefinger coldly with a humorless smile while he patiently waited for his answer.

"We owe your grandfather, Lord Tywin Lannister, three million gold. What's another seventy thousand?"

The King's smile grew into a wicked grin as he stared down at the armrest of his chair, tracing the marks as he responded, "Hmph. So we are over three million in debt?"

"No, Your Grace, the Crown is over six million in debt."

When he looked up at the members, the room grew cold as his tone grew more serious. "My father entrusted all of you to ensure that his expenses and his legacy are maintained."

Lord Eyron then spoke up, "Forgive me, Your Grace, but your father would have listened to us if we tried to stop him-"

"Well, it seems that none of you were doing your job then. Lord Jon, you said that you had important matters to discuss after my coronation. I take it this wasn't it?"

"No, Your Grace." The King's green eyes shone with interest when the Hand placed a parchment on the table as the King broke the seal and read its contents. "Your late father was going to have a messenger deliver it. Unfortunately, he died shortly after."

The King tossed it back onto the table without a care. "So my father wished to wed me off to Ned Stark's daughter?"

"Your Grace," Lord Varys spoke. "We all believe that in your father's good grace, this would bring a union toward your Houses. The North will undoubtedly be loyal to you once their eldest daughter becomes your Queen."

"What does the rest of the council think?"

"The marriage will be an opportunity to have the Warden of the North by your side." Renly replied.

"There is no doubt that Ned Stark will be on my side. However, the question isn't whether they will claim their fealty to me. What we should be asking is will Ned Stark's daughter be faithful and earn the respect of the court and the people."

"We can give her a chance, Your Grace."

The Hand looked over at Littlefinger after hearing his words. Of course, Lord Baelish wanted the marriage. Everyone was aware of his story. How he loved Ned Stark's wife and challenged his brother to a duel, yet she chose to be with Ned. If the King married their daughter, it would be an opportune moment for Littlefinger to be as close to her as possible.

"The only way to make sure is if I see her for myself. Send a raven to Lord Stark. It's time I greet my wife. Dismissed."

The Council stood from their seats when their king did, and they watched him leave the room with his mother following behind him. All that was left was to send a raven to Winterfell to prepare for His Grace's arrival. Lord Jon was finally going to see his dear friend again.

Jaime

The King's bedchamber was incredibly spacious. His bed's columns rose high to the ceiling with curtains tied to the posts. There were a great deal of vibrant colored plants in every corner that brought life to the room with unlit candles standing on gold on the tables, and a pitcher of fine wine with golden goblets sat patiently to the side. King Niklas, himself, sat at his desk with a quill. His hand glided over the paper to trace the words in his head with The Commander of the Kingsguard and Jaime Lannister standing next to each other to watch over His Grace, while the sea breeze coming from the balcony wafted through their nostrils.

When the King paused for a moment to look at them with a hint of mischief that Jaime knew all too well as His Grace smirked when he asked them, "Tell me, Ser Barristan, uncle, how did you feel when you first killed someone?"

"Relieved that I didn't die, Your Grace." Jaime replied.

The King's smirk grew even further as he stared at his uncle before he turned to the Commander. "And you, Ser Barristan? Did you too feel relief?"

"Any man in battle would certainly feel that way if they win the fight as they live to fight another day, especially to honor his king."

"Tell me your first kill then. Who was it?"

"A Tyroshi."

"And how did he die?"

"Lance through the heart."

"Hmph. Quick. If only it'd been easier for everyone else trained to kill. What about you, uncle? Care to tell me your first?"

"One of the outlaws of the Brotherhood."

Ser Barristan nodded his head, acknowledging it, "I was there that day. You were only a squire. Sixteen years old."

"You killed Simon Toyne with a counter-riposte. Best move I ever saw."

"Good fighter, Toyne, but he lacked stamina."

"So there were no last words from your first, uncle?" the King asked.

"I cut off his head, so no."

The Commander chuckled as Jaime smirked at him, but it faded so quickly when the King caught him off guard by asking, "And now you are a legendary fighter just like Ser Barristan. Faithful to serve your King until death relieves you. I am curious, though, uncle, did the Mad King have any last words when you stabbed him in the back? Did he call you a traitor, or did he plead for a reprieve?"

As Jaime stared down at his King, his lips slightly parted, and his eyes hardened when he noticed King Niklas's expression. His green eyes narrowed and that masked smile of his sent the back hairs on Jaime's neck on high alert. He never cared what people thought of him even after he stabbed the king he was sworn to protect, earning the reputation as Kingslayer. He had his reason, but he doubted anyone would care.

"He said the same thing he had been saying for hours: Burn them all."

When the door opened, they turned their heads to see a young handmaiden, but it wasn't just any handmaiden. It was his bastard, his brother's ward. She looked a great deal like her mother, Ayleen Kenning: blonde hair, pale, silk skin, and a delicate face. The only aspect that separated her were her eyes. She inherited the Lannister eyes from her father as their green pairs of orbs connected to each other, freezing in place, but she composed herself by approaching her King and presented herself in an elegant curtsy.

"What news from my mother, cousin?"

Her head hung low, and she folded her hands in front of her like the dutiful handmaiden she was. "The preparations have been made, Your Grace. We will be leaving in a few hours."

"Very well. Inform my mother that I will be at the carriage soon with my horse."

She curtsied like she was in a rush and smiled briefly at Ser Barristan, who in return, smiled back. She never bothered to show her own father the same gesture, but then again, he never gave her a reason to. Jaime will never forget the hopeful look on her face when she first came to court to serve his sister. The young girl gazed at him like the gallant knights of the books her uncle read to her, yet Jaime was anything but chivalrous to her. He treated her more like a stranger than a daughter. It was for the best since he knew that someone would not be pleased if she saw how close they were, so he kept his distance.

As soon as she left, the King never took his eyes off the door, almost wondering to himself, and at that moment, something flashed in those green eyes of his. Something Jaime was too familiar with every time he was with his sister.

"My cousin grows more beautiful every year, and it is evident by the amount of men who approach her. You were there to stop the assault on my cousin, Ser Barristan, so please, enlighten us. I'm sure we would all enjoy hearing the tale."

Jaime didn't bother to look at the Commander as his eyes remained fixed on the King. His gaze was unkind, and his lips were pressed together as he held his callous tongue from offending the King while Ser Barristan spoke.

"It's been almost three years, Your Grace. I was patrolling the gardens when I heard her cry for help. It was then when I saw a fellow member of the Kingsguard placing his hand over her mouth from screaming while he attempted to force himself inside the poor girl."

"And then?"

Ser Barristan averted his eyes away from his own King as if he wanted to escape from the discussion. The Commander was an honorable man, and speaking about a near rape incident must have been difficult to speak about. It was a shameful matter to discuss so casually, and yet the King did not appear to have any dignity over the matter.

"I drew my blade and defended her honor, Your Grace, impaling his leg with my sword. Shortly after, she told the Imp what happened."

"And now he is in the Black Cells, choking on his own vomit, and his cock was fed to the dogs I believe. A justified deed. Don't you think so, uncle?"

Jaime wouldn't call it "justified". If he were there instead of Ser Barristan, he would have severed his hands so that he could never touch her again before he severed his head. His eyes would remain on the ground like a dog, unable to look at her. It always simmered him to the core whenever he saw the desire in a man's eyes by gazing at his brother's ward like a prized whore. Watching the life drain from his eyes as he held his last breath would have been justified.

"Of course, Your Grace. If that is all."

King Niklas excused him by gesturing him to leave, and Jaime turned to Ser Barristan before nodding his head. It wasn't just for courtesy but for thanking him for saving his daughter all those many years ago when he never did.

Here is the second chapter! Let me know what you think. I hope you enjoyed it!