JAIME

Hendry suggested that he'd ride ahead to secure rooms in the inn.

"We'll find lodgings all right. No need to hurry along," Jaime replied. A Bracken might meet a Blackwood hereabouts and what good will that do?

His other squire inhaled deeply and smiled. The air smelled of water, horses, mud and the little flowers that grew in hedges beside the road.

"It's better than the scent of the capital, isn't it Ron?" Jaime said.

"It is ser," Oberon replied. "One gets used to it, but I prefer the scent of land and water over that of King's Landing."

"Sweat, pee, shit," Jaime said. Will I still say that when I'm Lord of Casterly Rock, Warden of the West and Shield of Lannisport? "And in some parts of the city guts too."

"And courtiers," Hendry said. He immediately tensed, but Jaime laughed. He could do without courtiers himself but where his sister was, they came along.

"Should we unfold our banners ser?" Ron asked as they neared the Inn at the Crossroads.

"No need for that lad." Imagine Father calling his squire that.

Without the Lannister banner his party of no more than twenty barely distinguished itself from a group of merchants with their sellswords that was just leaving. Jaime told Ron to arrange for lodgings and he dismounted, handing his reigns to Hendry. The boy made it for the stables.

"Came you from the Eyrie?" Jaime asked the departing group. His red hooded cloak was covered in mud and didn't boast even a single embroidered lion. After giving him a quick glance the eldest of the merchants continued to check whether his saddle bag was attached properly but he did reply: "Aye. I see you have swords with you ser and you'll need them."

"Are the Mountain Clans at it again?"

The man grimly nodded. "We lost one man."

"But we avenged him," one of the sellswords said. He was in his early forties and had a northern look to him. "There are three Painted Dogs less now. Be careful if you care to travel there ser, they'll be angry."

The party left and Jaime entered the inn, where despite the mild weather a fire was lit. Some Dornish looking people were crowded around it. One of them had a tall, slender frame and black hair with a few silver threads through it.

"Brother?"

The man turned and his face lit up in pleasure on seeing Jaime. They embraced, with every guest in the inn watching and whispering. Twenty minutes later Jaime had freshened up in the room Ron had secured and he and his good-brother shared a meal there. Jaime learned that Oberyn had visited Tybalt on his way back from White Harbour.

"He gained muscles and he's unaware that every maiden and every woman swoons at the sight of him."

Jaime wanted to laugh but Oberyn continued: "Just as Elia did when she looked at you."

Jaime received a manly pat on his shoulder and he knew that Oberyn loved him for believing him to have been faithful to his sister. Thank the Seven that Oberyn never visited the capital when I was there.

"She left four beautiful children," Oberyn said.

Jaime raised his goblet at that: "To Elia."

"To Elia!" Oberyn said. He drank deep. "Now tell me: how are my other nephews and niece? How are Lord and Lady Lannister?"

"The children and my father are fine. My lady mother lost her memory."

Oberyn's expression turned worried and Jaime was quick to reassure his friend that his mother's intelligence hadn't suffered.

"I'm glad to hear that!"

"She came to the capital, to see if seeing us would return her memory. She lost five and twenty years."

Oberyn looked pained.

"Spending some time with me she concluded I'd better leave for the Bloody Gate to bring my son home," Jaime said with a self-conscious smile.

"Will your lady mother be there for some time more?"

"She said she'll stay for a month at least, just in case she'll remember something."

"I think I'll visit King's Landing before returning home."

Jaime smirked as a thought crossed his mind.

"What?" Oberyn asked, tearing the leg of a roasted chicken.

"I was thinking of my father receiving word of your changed plans."

Lord Lannister had disliked the Dornish prince ever since his first visit to the Rock and over the years he hadn't seen cause to change his mind despite or perhaps because of the fondness his lady wife held for the Red Viper.

Oberyn smirked. "How's Melara?"

And that's another reason why Father can't stand him. "About to birth Ser Forley another child or so Mother told me."

A serving wench brought them a flacon of wine. Oberyn grinned. "Apples, trees," he softly said once the girl was out of earshot. Jaime had noticed the way the wench had looked at him, but it left him indifferent.

"You will not bed her ever again," Mother had commanded in the Red Keep's garden. He'd nodded in obedience while thinking of a loophole." And if you think that fucking her against a wall or taking her on all fours on a floor or spilling your seed in her as she mounts you on a chair means that you obey me still, think again," Mother had warned him.

Oberyn, misunderstanding Jaime's flushed cheeks, gently said: "It has been many years Brother."

Jaime attempted a smile and asked after Oberyn's paramour from White Harbour. "Does she still look after Melara's daughter?"

"She does and she's mothering another Hill and a Rivers too." Seeing Jaime's amused expression Oberyn added: "From just before the time I met her. You should try this sauce."

Jaime obediently dipped his bread in the green substance.

"How did the queen respond to seeing her lady mother?"

Unable to tell Oberyn that Cersei's breach with their mother had to do with her wanting to keep her children's parentage a secret, Jaime had, years ago, told his inquisitive good-brother that his twin disliked the fact that his mother had opposed her marrying the Targaryen prince as an explanation for the rift between mother and daughter.

"As gracious as one might expect," Jaime dryly replied.

"So you're bringing Tybalt to the Rock?" Oberyn changed the topic. Jamie, chewing his bread, nodded.

"I'll lend you some of my men. We were attacked and the one who survived might be gathering friends. You'll recognize him by the …"

"Horse breeder!" some voices came from the common room.

"… rather nasty scar on his forehead."

Whinnying sounds floated up as well as those of things being smashed to the floor. The good-brothers smirked and rose to participate in the fun.

MYRCELLA

"A picnic is for children," Joff complained.

"No it isn't. It will be nice."

Myrcella was already on horseback, seated in front of her shield Ser Ted Serrett. It felt good to look down on her eldest brother who was waiting for his horse to be brought to him. When she'd been told about her betrothal, one of the first things she'd thought was that she would be away from Joff. "There's Tommen too." I'll miss him.

She waved at her brother who was excited to sit on a proper horse, rather than on the ponies he'd mounted so far. He too shared a horse with his shield. A stableboy brought Joff's palfrey. Myrcella wondered whether it was the boy who'd gotten whipped. Joff, seeing grandmother exit the stables on her Dornish mare, loudly thanked the stableboy, who looked as confused at that sign of princely gratefulness as Myrcella felt on hearing it. She touched the hairnet of black and gold grandmother had gifted her. On seeing herself in the mirror that morning she'd been pleased with her appearance, but on seeing her beautiful elegant grandmother she felt like a common girl in comparison. It didn't lessen her smile in the least.

Accompanied by grandmother's red cloaks and ser Hugor Jordayne of the Kingsguard they set off into King's Landing. Myrcella, who barely ever left the Red Keep, looked around wide-eyed. People hailed grandmother. When a little girl waved at Myrcella she smiled and waved back. There were musicians who played merry melodies but as they got further away from home there were also very poorly dressed people, many of them missing even more teeth than the Lord Hand and some lacking a limb. For these people grandmother had a smile and kind greetings too and Myrcella smiled as well. On entering a street where it smelled after bread and fruit, grandmother commanded her guards to stop. She gestured Joffrey to come close. "I recall that this baker makes wonderful pies," she told him. "Will you help me make a selection for our picnic?"

Joff was startled by the question, but he dismounted and aided grandmother off her horse. The people, kept at a small distance by some red cloaks and Joff's shield, were delighted. As grandmother and Joffrey made purchases from the bakery and from some marketeers as well, Tommen told a man whose beard was a white as Ser Barristan's that grandmother was taking them on a picnic. "She said we wouldn't need cutlery!" he excitedly shared. It caused people to laugh but not in the way Myrcella had heard people laugh at court. After the goods were loaded on a packhorse, they continued their journey. 'Long live the princes and princess!' the old man cried out and people cheered at that. Joff kept riding next to grandmother, who occasionally pointed things out to him. Myrcella envied her brother his spot, but she reasoned that he needed to make up for his behaviour and that this ride gave him the opportunity to do so.

RENLY

He and Lady Lannister had spent an hour in Reeking Lane where Renly had taken her into various shops. Renly acknowledged her to be witty at times, as well as charming and beautiful. He was still sure that Baelish was making too much fuss about her. The master of coin, on learning of the successful picnic, thought it possible that Lady Lannister wanted to make the smallfolk like the princes and princess, especially because the Hand had announced that Myrcella had chosen to spend the allowance that was her due as a princess to buy an education for three common maidens from King's Landing for every year coming. At the Red Keep it was no secret that her grandmother had come up with the idea. Word of 'Myrcella's Three' was already buzzing around in the city. Renly didn't see how that would help the children once they'd been declared incestuous bastards.

"Shall we have a luncheon? I know a suitable place," Renly suggested. Soon enough they were seated in a private room in a richly furnished establishment.

"Dear Tommen told me all about your picnic," Renly said. He didn't have to raise his voice for the walls were thin. "He was very enthusiastic about you and his brother buying food in 'real streets'."

"I'm glad. I recalled the pastries and I thought the children might like those too and they did!"

Servants entered to bring them bread, cheese, a salad and various other food.

"Did the taste of the pastries bring forth memories?"

"So far nothing has. At least not from the years I lost," Lady Lannister said. She shook her head at a servant who offered her wine. Renly did accept the beverage.

"Perhaps Ser Jaime might have evoked some memories in you by now?"

After a moment the lady responded: "You mean to say that I shouldn't have sent him away? Perhaps not, but it was about time he left for the Bloody Gate. Such an awful name, don't you think?"

"Indeed. How shall we style it?" Renly said as the servants left.

"The Mountain's Foot? But that's hardly original I admit. Widowmaker?"

Renly grinned: "It is that. I imagine you'll look forward to seeing your eldest grandson?"

Lady Grandmother beamed at him. "Oh yes. His brothers and sister told me about him and so have Ser Kevan, Ser Gerion and Lord Lannister. I was told that he's the spitting image of Ser Jaime -," That's a shame. "- though inward he resembles his uncle the Prince of Dorne. His brother Mors – have you visited Casterly Rock in the past years?"

Renly shook his head, enjoying his toast with mushrooms. Lady Lannister had helped herself to a slice of bread with cheese.

"Of course not: being a member of the Small Council requires all of your time: it barely allows you to travel."

"Unfortunately not. Your grandson Mors?"

"Oh, you wouldn't be interested," the lady said.

"On the contrary, not having children myself doesn't mean that I take no interest in other people's offspring."

"You handle children well Lord Renly, I do hope you'll be blessed with them one day."

You'll want to reconsider that: they will replace your grandchildren. "Mors is Ser Jaime's second son isn't he? Does he look like his handsome father?"

"He's got his hair and his mother's colouring. He longs to be a squire."

"Ah yes. The king told me about that: he's to squire for Ser Arthur Dayne, isn't he?"

Lady Lannister seemed discontented. "Ay. I told my good-son in confidence though."

"Then be assured that I will not tell anyone about it," Renly said, fully knowing that word had spread already. "Ser Jaime also fathered twins didn't he? Do they look like him?"

Lady Lannister swallowed her bite of food and replied: "Myra looks just like the late princess of Dorne. Alyn only inherited his mother's hair. The twin's ambition is to catch a fish that's taller than they are."

Renly laughed. There you are Baelish. If she'd concluded that the three chits are Jaime's, and she plans to protect them, she wouldn't have entered this revealing topic.

"They have in common that they are sweet," the proud grandmother chatted. "They were very supportive after I had my concussion and it can't have been pleasant for them to learn that I didn't know anything about them."

"Myrcella and Tommen are sweet too I'd say," Renly said in between bites.

"And Joffrey seems to warm to me. He was very kind yesterday."

What a shame.

"All three of them told me about their lives so far."

Renly smiled at that. Time for another topic. "It must have been nice for you to see Ser Barristan again."

"It was. I'm glad that a man like him chose to serve the new king."

"He's not very talkative."

"You may thank the Seven for that Lord Renly. I imagine that between the Grand Maester and Lord Baelish the meetings of the Small Council last long enough."

Renly smirked and decided to sting the master of coin. "You don't approve of Littlefinger's verbality?"

"I doubt the nick-name does the man justice: being a master of coin at his age he can't be little."

Renly could just picture Baelish's pleased countenance.

"I didn't mean to say I dislike his verbosity or that of the Grand Maester," the lady continued. "It's good that there are different sort of men to council His Majesty."

"No two men could be more unlike each other than my brother Stannis and myself. Did he bore you tremendously when you had supper with him?"

Renly had already learned that there had hardly been a proper conversation between Lady Lannister and Stannis. She'd asked Stannis after ships, the Dragonstone bannermen and their unmarried daughters and she'd gotten short to the point replies. Only when she'd talked about Lord Steffon and praised Shireen had Stannis become more talkative, that is: sometimes he'd spoken more than four words in a row.

"Don't think too harshly of him, Lord Renly. I can see that in many ways he's not like you: he doesn't have your charm and your joy for life, but thoughtfulness and sobriety aren't to be looked down on."

Renly was pleased by the compliments as well as by the fact that Lady Lannister had unknowingly provided a link of sorts to another topic he wanted to discuss. "Stannis is a sober man indeed. I can't recall the last time I saw him smile. I'm more like our eldest brother, though I like to think that I don't rage at people like he does at times."

He meaningfully eyed his companion, who relented when he playfully cocked a brow.

"You heard about that did you?"

"I heard that our good king addressed you in his battle-voice..."

The lady took a sip of her water and didn't dare look at him.

"… because you said that he's nicknamed 'The Fat King'?"

On sparring with Ser Barristan – for the first time in countless months – Robert had told the Commander about Lady Lannister's revelation. Via a passing servant word had reached Renly.

"Perhaps I shouldn't have," the lady said, looking insecure. "He is my good-son yet I barely know him. It was a bit reckless to speak to him like that."

"Nonsense! I'm sure he found it charming! Besides: he took to sparring and rumour goes that he drinks less. I think he took your words to heart."

Renly wasn't worried about his brother's new physical routine: knowing Robert it wouldn't last more than a week. He rather liked the lioness's indiscretion for a smart player like himself might use it against her twins. Renly kindly smiled at the woman whose daughter and son would soon fall far, far from grace. Renly didn't bother to involve himself in it for that would only be tiresome. Let Baelish and Varys or Arryn and Stannis nail the incestuous bitch, all he cared for was what happened afterwards. He would marry the powerful south that was coming north and Robert, after the tragedy of being exposed as a cuckold, would drink and whore himself into obliviousness. No one liked Stannis, not even his own bannermen, and least of all Robert. Renly would support his royal brother by drinking with him and cursing the late Lannister twins and keeping his bed filled with a variety of lusty wenches. Give it a year at most and poor Robert would be twice his present size. Who would the people look at then? The radiantly handsome youngest brother.

"If so something good would come out of my… boldness."

Renly needed a moment to recall the topic. "It would," he then lied. Have I covered everything now? Her grandchildren at the Rock. Stannis. The silly picnic. "What present do you think I could give Myrcella? Would she care to have a bird from the Summer Islands?" He privately smiled when picturing Baelish's face and thought that after setting the man's fears to rest, he would deserve at least two presents from that part of the world himself.

"The princess is indeed fond of animals, but Winterfell's climate requires a different sort of pet, don't you think?"

Renly nodded, thinking of the night to come. Loras was magnificent, but there were so many enjoyable men around that Renly didn't mind his lover's absence for the time being. He nibbled at a juicy piece of fruit, picturing it to be someone's buttocks. Granny had continued talking but Renly only caught the last part of her line: " – you might get her something with the Baratheon shield and colours?"

Never in my life. "Her House's colours… Yes, that will do nicely."