JAIME
The horse's hoofs clopped under him at a trot-the sound a muffly echo in parting between the tall trees on the Kingsroad.
The often-traveled path was silent and dead, a hushed silence, which was strange, as there were normally at least a few people traveling back and forth. But, Jaime supposed, with Winter here, everyone was settling down where they were. The ground had frosted over that morning, and no birds but crows uttered a single cry.
Ahead of him and behind, the ground had been trampled. There were the straight, even line of bootprints from the Unsullied, who had marched far ahead of him in the same direction towards Winterfell. Around that, there was an even wider swath of pure chaos. The Dothraki hoarde, who had rode far ahead of the Unsullied, had left nothing but destruction and trampled grass in their wake with their wild horses. And in the silence that followed the two armies there was only him.
It had been just over a week since he'd left Cersei.
His heart still ached.
He knew he'd done the right thing...knew he'd sworn an oath-and this time he was determined not to break it. But it didn't make it hurt any less. He had also been loyal to her. Sworn an Oath, there, too, to never leave her...he still loved her. Would always love her...but...
Fuck Loyalty.
Had it been Brienne that had changed his mind? Or had it been Cersei herself-Cersei, who grew more and more in her madness everyday?
Are you going to kill me?
He'd thought, for half a second of terror, that she hadn't been bluffing.
He tried to think back to the exact moment he'd lost her forever...was it when Tommen had died? Had it been when she'd blown up the Sept? When she'd walked naked down the strret and hadn't been there to protect here? The moment the crown was placed on her head? Or had it been...
Never betray me again, she had whispered in his ear.
Burn them all.
The voice had echoed in his head when she'd said that, loud and clear, clearer than even Cersei's voice.
He shivered. Was it the cold?
Or had been even before that...
No, he knew. He knew the exact moment he'd lost her. He knew.
It had been the moment he'd brought back their beautiful, sweet, innocent daughter in a golden shroud. Her short hair, her devastated face...his heart had broken all over again after seeing his sister collapse into a husk of pain...
I'm glad you're my father.
Blood...blood...there had been so much blood...or so it seemed, distorted by his memory...
Their only daughter...
"Just where the fuck do you think you're going," said a voice behind him.
Jaime startled and turned, ripped from his thoughts.
Ser Bronn of the Blackwater rode astride a black horse, trotting to catch up with him and reaching his side.
"Winterfell," he muttered, annoyed.
"What, all by yourself?"
Jaime didn't answer.
"Aye, all by yourself. Jaime Fucking Lannister, the lone hero against the World. Perhaps Cersei could have paintings made-Ser Jaime vs the Dragon, and Ser Jaime vs the Dead. Too bad they'll only ever be a twin set. But what a pair."
What the fuck, he thought. Jaime gave him a look. Had that last part been a mockery as well? A twin set?
"Fuck off," muttered Jaime angrily.
"Oh, no. I told you," said Bronn, "No one's allowed to kill you until I get my fuckin' castle."
"Go ask Cersei for your fucking castle. She's more means to give it to you than I do."
"Funnily enough, I don't think she'd be willing to oblige."
Jaime narrowed his eyes.
"Besides, my price has gone up."
"Oh, has it now?"
"Aye."
Bronn didn't continue. Jaime waited. He gave the man an impatient look. Was he really going to make him ask?
"And?"
"I still want a castle..." he started. "But on an island."
Jaime laughed, loud and hard. It echoed eerily in the silence of the trees.
"Oh, fuck off, Bronn," he said humorously.
"I'm serious, mate. A fucking island. Picture it...Lord Bronn of so-and-so Island. I could have ships...go fishing...and come back to the castle to half a dozen ladies and a beautiful wife..."
Jaime shook his head in amusement.
"Perhaps instead you should become Court Jester, with jokes like that."
"Fuck off," he quipped right back. "Besides, I'll need an island to escape to, should this whole fucking thing go south." Bronn chuckled. "Literally."
Jaime furrowed his brows.
"Oh, wipe that look off your face sunshine, it's not that surprising. What fun would the world be if it was populated with dead people instead of living flesh and blood? I tell you, rotting tits would be no fun at all. They're all fat. They'd be the first to rot off. What's a world without tits?"
Jaime looked at him.
"What are you talking about? What are you even doing here?" said Jaime. He was finished with this nonsense. He wanted Bronn to leave him the fuck alone.
"I'm helping," said Bronn seriously.
"Oh, fuck off,"
"No, really," he said. "Perhaps there is a shred of sentiment left in this black heart of mine after all, but I really don't want to see the world end."
Jaime stopped his horse. He looked at Bronn seriously.
"You really want to fight the White Walkers? Dragons were on your no-go list, and now you want to fight the dead?"
"Aye," said Bronn. "Maybe they can add me into those paintings of yours. After all, I'm constantly saving your ass."
Jaime stared. A muscle in his jaw twitched.
"See for yourself," he said, and gestured behind them.
They had reached a rise in the land, not very tall, but there was enough height for them to see for a few miles behind them.
And there, on the Kingsroad, marched a host of some 2,000 men, wearing Lannister colors, fully armed. What little remained of their war-torn little force marched behind them, heading for Winterfell. He looked at Bronn.
"How?" he said.
"Turns out," said Bronn. "Some of them aren't so keen on the idea of waiting around in Kings Landing for either the White Walkers to freeze them out, or the Dragon Queen to roast them out. Turns out some of them...quite a bit of them, would rather take their chances up North with the rest of the armies, before the White Walkers march south of the Wall, and kill their families...not all of which live in the capital, of them live between King's Landing and the Wall. Seems putting their families between them and danger was not a smart move on Cersei's part."
"Cersei...she'll...she'll see this as a betrayal... stealing her army...she'll...she;ll come after us..."
Bronn grinned, big and wide.
"Her and what army?"
Jaime pulled up his horse to better face Bronn. An angry look had crossed his face.
"Euron Greyjoy is not returning to the Iron Islands, he's sailing for Essos on Cersei's orders to bring back the Golden Company. That's her army. She means to either use them to defend King's Landing against the White Walkers or against Daenerys, whoever is left standing after The Great War."
Bronn pulled up short. He looked behind him at the bedraggled army, his face pulling an oh-shit look.
"Well," he said, "Let's hope the Dragon Queen is grateful for our assistance."
"I suppose that's our only course of action now," said Jaime, using a sarcastic voice, but he knew he was right. If they marched back now, Cersei would still see it as a betrayal, and...he didn't even know. Probably-
Burn them all.
He shook the voice out of his head.
"Fucking hell, Bronn," said Jaime irritably.
"Well," said Bronn. "Look on the bright side...at least you'll be on the same side as your brother."
"Against my sister."
"Well, it's never easy to pick a side when family fights."
"Fuck me," said Jaime.
Bronn laughed.
"Not anymore, she won't," he said, laughing, and he rode ahead quickly before Jaime could smack him with his golden hand.
A/n: I know, short chapter, and no Jonerys, but there's a lot going on with other people too. YOU MUST THINK LIKE GRRM. Besides, Jaime riding off by himself to fight the White Walkers was just too sad, and my one question at the end of that scene was WHERE THE FUCK IS BRONN? Like Bronn would throw in with fucking Cersei LOL no, of course he'd go after and rescue Jaime's dumb ass. Also, he needed an army. Everyone needs an army. (and YOU get an army, and YOU get an army! and YOU...you get the idea)