Chapter 63

…

Jaime walked into the forge, Arya trotting along beside him, in search of Gendry, as well as Ser Benedict, his Master at Arms. He knew that they had to make as many weapons as possible before setting out to battle the White Walkers. Jaime struggled to remember what Tyrion had told him about them – his younger brother was the one who was always interested in magic and monsters. Tyrion must have read half a hundred books about the White Walkers and the great battle that led to the building of the Wall. Jaime had only half-listened when Tyrion recounted the stories, and he regretted it now.

"Gendry," Jaime called out as he neared the fires.

"Yes, Lord Lannister?" he said, standing at attention.

"How many daggers were you able to make? And how many arrows?" Jaime had allowed Arya and Sansa to take a large rock of dragonglass from Tyrion's room down to the forge to use for weapons, after receiving Jon Snow's letter. This was after much convincing from the Stark girls, since Jaime thought it ridiculous. Now, he was rather glad he had given in to them.

"Ser Addam took most of the dragonglass blades today. Though he didn't say why. Here's what's left," Gendry said, gesturing to less than a handful of blades and half as many arrowheads on one of the worktables.

We're certainly going to need more daggers and many more arrowheads. I'll need to arm thousands of my men. "Did you use all of the obsidian the girls brought you?"

"Aye, m'lord. All of it. Lady Arya insisted."

Arya piped up in her own defense. "We needed as many as possible. We should have made more." She turned to Gendry. "Did Ser Addam tell you that the White Walkers have come? And that the dragonglass blades we made worked to kill them?"

"Calm down, Arya," Jaime said, as she got more and more excited.

"The blades we made?" Gendry asked.

"I watched."

Jaime snorted. "You will need to make more, Gendry. Did they take long to make?" he asked. "We'll need hundreds more dragonglass blades."

"Once I learned to work with the stone, I was able make them rather quickly. Though it does take time to forge the handles. Are there really that many of them?"

"We can't be certain how many there are but…I mean to mount an aggressive attack, which means I'll need to take quite a number of men with me. We best get to work. As quickly as possible."

"I can help you," Arya said suddenly. "I can be your squire in battle. And I can kill them with the arrowheads. Jaime, you know I'm good with a bow. Please."

"You are not leaving this castle."

"Why not? It's what we've been practicing for."

"You're not going into battle with me, and that's final. Both your mother and sister would have my head."

Jaime picked up one of the few weapons left, worrying over how few there were. He reminded himself that they did have the weapons that his scouts brought back as well. Jaime wondered if there were other weapons they could make with the glass, which would not require fighting in such close quarters as a dagger would. From what he had seen, he'd prefer if they did not have to get close to the White Walkers. It's best if we can kill them from as great a distance as possible. The archers will help us, though I certainly can't use a bow and arrow with only one hand. "Do you have parchment down here?"

Gendry nodded, reaching for several sheets of parchment and a piece of charcoal used to draw. As Jaime began to consider other weapons they could create with the glass blades, he heard Ser Addam entering the forge, and turned to see him carrying a large crate filled with obsidian rocks from Tyrion's quarters, as he had instructed. What Jaime did not expect to see was Edmure Tully following Ser Addam, carrying a second crate of rocks.

He looked at both men, and Ser Addam answered the unasked question. "They heard the screams in the sitting room and went to the window. Lady Lannister and her mother, as well as Lord and Lady Tully. Sansa was concerned that you were part of the battle but I assured her you had not left the castle. Lord Tully insisted on accompanying me here."

"Sometimes I wonder if anyone remembers who the hostages are around here," Jaime murmured in annoyance as he continued to examine one of the dragonglass daggers. "Perhaps we could create some sort of spear or lance – something we could use from far away."

"Is it really the White Walkers? Sansa said that Ned Stark's bastard wrote, warning about them. But, you're certain it's not a band of outlaws?" He could hear the skepticism in Edmure Tully's voice, though if they had been watching from the windows, he should be skeptical no longer.

"They had glowing blue eyes," Arya said, her fear momentarily forgotten. "And an army of wights."

He noticed Lord Tully looking at a drawing of a spear that Jaime was working on with Ser Benedict. "What's to stop them from breaking one of those in half with their bare hands?" Edmure asked. "Aren't they supposed to be quite strong?"

"There should be a number of books in the library about the White Walkers, their histories. My brother Tyrion was quite interested as a child. I suppose someone should read through those." Jaime studied the drawing before him. "We know that dragonglass blades or arrows are necessary to kill the White Walkers. Though, I'd rather not get so close as to have my arms ripped off by them. You have a better idea for a weapon, Tully?"

"I've never been much of a warrior. I'm not the right person to ask but…it seems that what you're making are more Northern types of weapons. Perhaps you should speak to your prisoners. They might have an idea."

Jaime knew that Edmure was right, though he hated to admit it. And the Northerners would certainly have a better idea of how to fight the Others, due to having a better knowledge of their history. "I don't expect they would be particularly excited to help me."

"They'd not be helping just you. They would be helping the Realm. Most of their ancestors fought the White Walkers all those years ago, led by the Starks. I'm certain they would wish to help."

"I don't expect they will see it as anything other than helping me." Jaime sighed, rolling his eyes. "Come along then, Tully, if you're so optimistic. Gendry, start working on the blades, we'll decide what we need to mount them to later. Ser Benedict, I'd like the boy to teach some of your men to work with the dragon glass as well. There's no time to lose."

"Can I come with you? To the dungeons?" Arya asked, following Jaime and Edmure.

Jaime wasn't particularly excited for Arya to hear the insolence that the Northern Lords would likely send his way. He found he rather enjoyed his friendship with the girl, and he didn't want her to feel that she had to choose between him and the Northerners. He was about to send her back upstairs, when Edmure stopped him.

"Her presence might convince them to help," he offered.

"I thought you said they'd be eager to finish the job their ancestors started," Jaime murmured, leading the way as Edmure and Arya trailed after him. He supposed Edmure had a point. The Northerners were sworn to Eddard Stark, and then to Robb Stark. No matter what they thought of him, he had to believe that they had enough honor to help protect Sansa, Arya and Lady Catelyn.

"Kingslayer!" he heard as soon as they entered the dungeons.

"Decided to lock Lord Tully up with us, have you?" Greatjon Umber groused. "Well, we knew it would only be a matter of time before you got tired of keeping him as a lordly prisoner. Best to throw him in with the rest of the trash, eh?"

"We've come for your help," Edmure said, before Jaime could respond, though his appeal did not have the reaction he had expected.

"The Lannisters kill your sworn king and now you help him? We had thought you were a hostage, but it appears you've thrown in with him, just like Lady Sansa. He's her husband, what's your excuse, Tully?"

"This has nothing to do with the war," Jaime began.

"Everything has to do with the war, Kingslayer. Whatever you want, you can forget. We're not helping you."

"The mighty Kingslayer needs the help of his lowly prisoners? The war must not be going well for you Lannisters."

The Northern lords continued shouting and heckling. "Don't worry, Lord Tully has been suitably offensive to me," Jaime said as Arya entered the dungeons and stood next to him. "Lord Umber, I'm here because it seems my honored guests are not the only Northerners here in Lannisport."

"The White Walkers are here," burst Arya, looking at the men as if she were looking for someone she recognized.

"Who's this here?" Lord Umber asked, studying Arya. "She looks like-"

"I'm Arya Stark of Winterfell," she said haughtily. Jaime expected she was offended on his behalf for the hostility of the Northern Lords. "And my brother, Robb, would want you to help."

"Little lady, I don't believe he would wish us to help any Lannister. Certainly not the Kingslayer." He looked at Jaime and Edmure then. "What's this she says about the White Walkers? Do you enjoy scaring little girls with tall tales, Kingslayer?"

"I'm not a little girl!"

Jaime rested his hand on her shoulder to silence her. "Your winter has come and with it your creatures from Beyond the Wall. If you don't believe me, I can offer a letter from Ned Stark's bastard. Or feel free to take a walk outside the gates of Casterly Rock, though you'll likely not return. You may find the remains of several of my soldiers who had the misfortune to encounter them. Unless, of course, they've become wights."

"They had glowing blue eyes. I saw them," Arya said.

The Northerners were clearly skeptical, but they did not dismiss him out of hand. Jaime allowed Arya to describe what they had seen from the battlements, correctly surmising that his prisoners would be more likely to believe her than him. Once she finished her tale, they appeared convinced, judging by the stunned and frightened expressions on their faces. It was little Arya who asked for their help with the weapons, and Jaime could see that Lord Umber would not refuse the young daughter of Eddard Stark.

In the end, Jaime ordered some of his soldiers to escort the two Northerners who were most knowledgeable about arms to the forge, so they could assist Gendry and the others in the forge prepare and design weapons using the dragonglass blades.

"Aren't you going to take them with you into battle?" Arya asked, loud enough that Lord Umber heard her.

Jaime smiled. "They are my prisoners, Arya, not my soldiers."

"We'll not be fighting with the Kingslayer, Lady Arya."

"But shouldn't we all do what we can to beat the White Walkers? Even if you don't like each other? I remember Old Nan's stories about the War for the Dawn. The Starks led the Northmen into battle and they weren't all friends. There were Umbers there too, and Mormonts and Lightfoots and Manderly's. Don't you want to battle them now? Now that they have returned?"

Jaime smirked at Lord Umber following Arya's little speech, his eyebrow raised in question.

"You'd let us out and arm us, Kingslayer?"

"It's not as if you could run away. Unless you wished it to be your death, between the cold of Winter and the Others." He looked at Arya and considered her words, knowing his father would be sorely disappointed with his decision. "So long as you agree to battle the White Walkers, and not me and my men…I'll free you, once the worst of Winter is over and you can safely make your way back to the North. Back to whatever remains of Winterfell and your keeps." The child is right. We need to work together, or it could be the death of all of us.

Edmure looked at him in astonishment. Lord Umber turned to the other Northmen, and there was some hushed discussion before the great lord turned back to Jaime, Edmure and Arya. "We'll join your red cloaks against the White Walkers – a temporary truce until they are all dead. But only if you fight beside us, Kingslayer. We'll not go marching into battle, dying on your lands, while you hole up safe and warm here at the Rock. What'll it be?"

…

Sansa sat on the large sofa in the sitting room with Roslin, Lady Catelyn and the two baby girls. Sansa's legs were curled under her and she held Julianna on her lap. She couldn't stop thinking about what they had seen from the windows, nor about the horrible screams that drew them there. Though she'd believed Jon's letter about the White Walkers, she never really thought they would be as far south as Casterly Rock. She certainly never thought she would see one. Suddenly, all of the terrifying stories Old Nan had told her as a child had come flooding back.

Jaime had been nowhere to be found, and for a moment she feared that he was outside the castle walls with the men being attacked by the White Walkers. She'd tried to go off in search of him, but Uncle Edmure – and her guards – had forced her to remain where she was. When Ser Addam had walked past the sitting room, she all but attacked him, demanding to know Jaime's whereabouts. He'd assured her that he was safe and she'd been able to relax for the first time since that first scream had pierced the silent winter night.

Sansa heard footsteps and turned her head, finally seeing Jaime. She immediately stood and all but ran to him, handing Julianna to her mother and hugging him tightly. She didn't care about the propriety of embracing him publicly, she was so relieved that he was safe and with her once again.

"We're all safe, Sansa. It's all right," he whispered. She felt him stroking her hair as Arya ran to their mother.

"Jon was right about the White Walkers! They're in Lannisport." Sansa clutched Jaime tighter, not understanding how her sister could be so excited over something so horrible. "Jaime, and Uncle Edmure, and the Northern Lords are going to lead the red cloaks to march against them."

Jaime…is going to fight the White Walkers? Sansa heard Roslin gasp behind her, no doubt at the prospect of Edmure marching into battle against these creatures from beyond the Wall.

"What does she mean?" Sansa asked quietly, not certain she wanted to hear Jaime's answer.

"I hope we'll not be gone long," Jaime began. "Gendry and my men in the forge are making more dragonglass weapons, and then we'll be leaving to battle the White Walkers. I won't risk anyone harming you or Julianna."

"They can't get in here, can they?" she whispered in alarm.

"I don't believe so, but…there are all the people of Lannisport to think of also."

"You're not going." It comes out as a statement, not a question. I can't believe Jaime even considered battling these…things. He promised he would never leave me. "Jaime, you have fifty thousand men – why must you go?"

"I have to lead them, Sansa. They are my soldiers. I can't simply stay safely behind the castle walls as they march into battle. My men need to know that I am fighting, right alongside them. And your Northerners only agreed to assist us, if I fight with them."

She took his arm and led him into the adjoining library, closing the door so they could speak privately. Once the door was closed, she couldn't maintain her decorum any longer.

"You're going to end up dead, Jaime."

He rubbed her arm, trying to soothe her, taking her in his arms. "I know you're frightened. But you married a knight. And the Warden of the West. This is no different than when your father would go off to war, or off to deal with uprisings. Certainly you must remember such things happening."

She knew he was right. She had some memories of her father leaving to fight the Greyjoy rebellion and she remembered several times that her father had left home to deal with wildlings raiding nearby villages. But he'd never fought monsters before. And Sansa had only been a little girl. She couldn't have stopped her father from leaving when his king called, but she certainly intended to keep Jaime safely by her side if she could.

"What about Julianna and Tommen? Don't you want to see them grow up?"

"Sansa, sweet girl, I plan to return. I plan to raise them with you. They are part of the reason why I'm doing this. Don't you want the children to grow up in a world where they are safe, rather than one with the Others wandering the Realm?"

"What are you trying to prove? You certainly don't need to prove anything to me! And if it's your men or the Northern Lords putting you up to this…who cares what they think of you?"

She knew her voice was getting loud and a bit shrill, but she was terrified and couldn't seem to keep herself under control. She knew Jaime was right – that he should be the one to lead his men. She remembered how Joffrey had hidden away in the Red Keep during the Battle of Blackwater – leaving Tyrion to lead the Red Cloaks. And Sansa had thought Joffrey a coward for it. But this was Jaime. She didn't want him to risk his life, no matter how honorable it might be.

"Come here, sweet girl," he said gently, holding her and stroking her hair. "I care what you think of me. And Julianna and Tommen…I could not look them in the eyes if I didn't do what was right and honorable for the Realm." Jaime was trying to soothe her, but it only made her more angry and fearful to see that her words were not going to change his mind.

"Jaime, how can you possibly fight them? This isn't the practice you and Arya do in the hallways. You'll not be fighting a little girl. These are the White Walkers. They'll tear you limb from limb. How can you possibly expect to come back alive when you've never truly fought with that hand? Are the White Walkers truly the best way to test it out?"

She watched as Jaime looked down at his golden hand and she immediately regretted her words when she saw his expression.

"I know I'm not the best sword in the Realm as I was before…but you'd be surprised to see the progress I've made, using my left hand. It's been a while since you've watched." He spoke quietly, his shame and disappointment apparent. "I wouldn't insist on leading my men, if I were as useless as you seem to think I am. I wouldn't go unless I believed that I was still a knight – that I still have value. I don't believe that I need to stay behind with the women and children."

"Jaime, I don't –"

"I don't blame you. What is a one-handed knight worth? I'll prove my worth to you in battle, Sansa."

Before she could respond, Jaime walked out of the library, closing the door behind him as he left her alone. I've hurt him. Sansa felt her eyes fill with tears. She didn't mean to hurt him. She only wanted him to stay with her, where he was safe. She was terrified. She needed Jaime. What will I do if he dies?

…

When he exited the library, Catelyn Stark, Arya, Edmure and Roslin were all there, staring at him. It was obvious to him that they had heard Sansa's words. He wondered if they shared her belief that he was useless as a knight. He could only meet Arya's eyes as he bent down to take Julianna from her arms.

"I know you'll beat them," she whispered as she handed the baby to him.

Jaime smiled sadly and ruffled her hair, cradling Julianna against his chest. Sansa's lack of faith in him hurt. He wished she saw him as the man he was before – at least the warrior that he was before.

Jaime walked to their bedchamber, carrying Julianna and absently stroking her back as she made happy little cooing sounds. Does Sansa think that I want to die? Does she think that I want to lose the chance to spend my life with her and raise our precious baby?

As he walked past Tommnen's bedchamber, he stuck his head in and saw that he was already in his nightclothes, petting his kittens as they settled on the bed near him. Sansa can't really believe I wish to die and leave her to raise Tommen.

"Looks like you're ready for bed."

Tommen looked up and smiled. "May I hug Julianna good night?"

Jaime nodded, sitting on the bed and plopping the baby in Tommen's lap. Julianna smiled at Tommen as he wrapped his arms around her. "Good night, baby," he whispered. "I love you." Julianna made some unintelligible noises back at Tommen and rested her head against his chest as he held her.

How did such a sweet, loving child come from me and Cersei? Jaime sometimes wondered if Tommen was truly his, but the physical resemblance was there, even if their personalities could not be more different. Though the boy didn't know that Julianna was truly his sister, he treated her as such, and Jaime knew that Julianna would grow up to consider Tommen to be her brother, even if the children were never told the truth. Even now, he could see that Julianna and Tommen loved one another.

"Are you really going to battle, Uncle Jaime?" Tommen asked quietly as Julianna rolled on the bed, reaching out to pet one of the kittens.

"How do you know about that?"

"After – After we saw the monsters, I came upstairs to make sure my kittens were safe. It was very scary, but Sansa said that they couldn't get inside the Rock. When I went back downstairs, I heard Arya say you were going to fight them and she asked her mother if she could go with you." Jaime laughed inwardly, as he'd already refused Arya's request to accompany him into battle. "But you and Sansa weren't there, so I came back up here. Are you really leaving?"

"Yes. In a few days…at the next dawn."

"You're going to come back, though, right?" He saw Tommen's lip quiver and moved to sit beside him. Jaime was not entirely surprised when the child climbed onto his lap.

"I promise you, Tommen, that I have every intention of coming back here. You should not be afraid."

"Are you scared?"

"I can't be afraid. I have to concentrate on the battle, and on coming back to Sansa and Julianna…and to you. You'll take care of Sansa for me while I'm gone, won't you?"

Tommen nodded seriously. "I won't let anyone hurt her."

"Perhaps you could even sleep with her at night, so she's not lonely."

His eyes lit up at the thought of spending more time with Sansa. "I promise I will. I won't let her be sad."

Tommen wrapped his arms around Jaime's neck and hugged him tightly. He caught Julianna's eyes over the boy's head and she smiled brightly, squealing in her desire that they pay attention to her.

I promise you, Sansa. I'll come back to you and the children.

…

I'm glad that so many of you are enjoying the introduction of the White Walkers. Thank you for the feedback and reviews. I never thought, when I started writing this story, that I would be finishing up Chapter 63, with quite a bit still in the plans, and I'm glad that so many of you are still reading and liking the story.

Next Chapter: Catelyn talks to Sansa about her own experiences sending a husband off to war