JAMIE LANNISTER.
DURING THE SECOND LONG NIGHT.
WINTERFELL.
305 AC.
Before the Battle of Winterfell, as the world around him threatened to disintegrate and everyone around him sought solace in drunken embraces with their loved ones, Jaime Lannister found himself lonely in a sea of festivity. The warmth of the fire and the laughter of his companions provided little relief to the conflict that raged within him.
Jaime couldn't help but feel the weight of the ghosts that continually tormented him as he watched the flickering candlelight dance across the faces of his companions. They were ghosts from his past, mistakes that gnawed at his conscience, and the faces of people he had lost along the way. But one ghost stood out above the rest: the recollection of a young lad who had once gazed at the legends of knighthood with dreamy eyes. Despite his comrades' assurances that he was now on the correct path to redemption after Harrenhal, Jaime couldn't shake the feeling that he had betrayed that young, idealistic version of himself. That youngster who aspired to be just like the man he admired so much.
That's how, amid the laughing and merriment of his companions, Jaime got closer to the fireplace to add some wood to it (because it was cold, so cold, ever since the walls stopped radiating heat and hot springs stopped working in Winterfell as if their magic suddenly died after what Sansa Stark had done) and his thoughts returned to that young child and his mentor as he kept watching the flames.
The finest knight of the realm, they used to call him. Ser Arthur Dayne, who fought with a blade called Dawn, forged from the heart of a fallen star. The Sword of the Morning. The deadliest of Aerys's Kingsguard's seven knights. A legendary knight. A man who made women swoon and men look at him with stars in their eyes.
It was no surprise Jamie Lannister had a deep, strong appreciation for Arthur Dayne's unshakable chivalry and honest conduct, as well. After all, to those who knew him well, his lifelong ambition was no secret: he sought to replicate the noble and honorable attributes of this renowned warrior. He was even willing to abandon the House Lannister, its lordship, and the very name that defined him, not to mention his one true love Cersie, all for the sake of his ambition.
It was no surprise Jamie Lannister had a deep, strong appreciation for Arthur Dayne's unshakable chivalry and honest conduct, as well. After all, to those who knew him well, his lifelong ambition was no secret: he had sought to replicate the noble and honorable attributes of this renowned warrior. He even had been willing to abandon the House Lannister, its lordship, and the very name that defined him, not to mention his one true love Cersie, all for the sake of his ambition.
However, if his father, Tywin Lannister, had been asked about what his son's goals and dreams should be, the picture he would paint might have been very different. After all, it was widely known that the fearsome patriarch of House Lannister took a much sharper view of his eldest son's ambitions. Jamie had been aware that his desire to become a noble and honorable knight like Arthur Dayne was seen by his father as a potential threat to the lineage and authority of his house. For someone like Tywin, who insisted that honor and knighthood were liabilities rather than assets in the ruthless game of thrones, and who had amassed his family's money and influence with a keen awareness of politics and connections, it was difficult to understand the idealistic and romantic conceptions of knights. That is why his father had been determined to steer him away from his idealistic dreams, even if he had to use the harsh art of manipulation to do so. The Iron Throne was the ultimate prize and House Lannister would do anything to keep it, after all.
Knowing his father and his desires for him, Jamie used to believe that if he could escape his father's web, that he could live happily ever after, but little did he realize that this time he would fall into the web of his dear sister (and secret lover) Cersei instead.
Cersei, Jamie's lovely twin sister, had always been as shrewd and ambitious as their father Tywin. She was already drawn to the pull of power by the time she first flowered, and because to their father's ambition just like him she had her sights set on the Iron Throne. Despite her dreams for power, however, Cersei had kept insisting she was unwilling to give up her complex relationship with Jamie. She had been fond of whispering they could have the whole world in their fingers if they wanted. That they belonged together. That they could be together, her as a queen, and him as a member of the kingsguard. That finding comfort in each other's arms would cure all the loneliness they have felt due to the lack of affection and love from their cold father caused.
Those days, Jamie had been feeling like their love was a consuming power, a link would outweigh all other desires. How could he have known his sister would end up hurting him more than anybody else in the future? How could he have known Cersei was so obsessed with the idea of Lannister Legacy and power, with the idea of their family being above everyone else that she only saw him as a means to an end to get what she desired?
It was no surprise Jamie who was too naive for the harsh truth had deluded his mind by turning all the affections and infatuation Cersei gave to him into love, instead of recognizing the manipulation that was masterly played. In the private chambers they shared at Casterly Rock, Cersei had whispered honeyed words into Jaime's ear, her fingers tracing a seductive path along his jawline. Her emerald eyes had gleamed with a dangerous determination as she played her part in manipulating him, much like their father. And Jamie, as a naive fool, could not help himself to believe that Cersei had loved him truly. Because the words she had whispered and all the promises she had given stirred something deep within him, igniting a fire of ambition that matched his sister's.
As they had plotted and schemed in the shadowy corners of Casterly Rock, Jamie believed that maintaining his love affair with Cersei, even if it had to be kept hidden, was the only way he would achieve happiness and feel complete, as if part of him was not missing. Then there was the fact that a part of him enjoyed using his knighthood as a way of getting back at his father, for it meant that the next heir to Casterly Rock would be his younger brother Tyrion. And in his eyes, his little brother who was so much smarter than him deserved all the respect and the power the Casterly Rock would bring. So, under the blind eyes of Tywin and the seductive whispers of Cersei, Jaime's path had been set. It would already be too late when he finally recognized the manipulation at play.
Yet, for a time, Jaime had felt as if his noble dreams had briefly come true, as if he did not fully contaminate his soul with all of his family's trickery and machinations. A part of him had remained pure, due to Arthur Dayne, the knight he so idolized, taking him under his wing and even knighting him. During those occasions, Jaime couldn't help himself but feel a sense of accomplishment. Ser Arthur had even boasted to Ser Barristan once that he was on his way to becoming a superb warrior, despite the fact that Jamie had never defeated him. Victory always appeared to be reserved for the Sword of the Morning, but Jaime had been satisfied with what he was able to achieve. Whenever he had lost a sparring, Arthur would pat him on the back and say, "Next time, young one," and Jaime would throw himself more deeply into his training, motivated by the hope that he could become as honorable and gallant as the man he admired so much.
They had been great days that should have been cherished. And what a naive fool Jamie had been, expecting them to persist or that he would be able to keep his honor and knighthood after all the scheming he has done with Cersei. What a fool he had been hoping his life would not be marred by tragedies and the manipulations of his own House, the Lannisters, any more when he became a knight. What a fool he had been for forgetting his destiny was to endure what Gods have given him.
Enduring, it seemed, would stay as the one constant in Jaime's life. Like a relentless companion, it clung to him, unfazed by his efforts to escape its grasp. His journey was a testament to the enduring nature of his choices, the unyielding presence of his past, and the inescapable weight of the promises he had made and broken.
First, Jamie had been forced to endure a life riddled with catastrophes and the crafty plans of his own family, who had continuously discovered new methods to pull him into their service while showing little concern for his well-being. Then he had been forced to face the dreadful reality that his family would never genuinely care for him, which had made him realize since they didn't care, the others would not as well so Jamie had gotten used to wearing a cocky mask around people to protect himself. Jamie had been already used to the bitter feeling rising inside him, towards the end, when he had realized he had to keep suffering this horrible existence till the day he died since he would never be able to escape neither his family nor the ghosts kept hunting him.
Jamie frequently had been wondering where and how his unhappiness began, these days. It's not like he woke up one day and realized he was dying within, withering like a crushed flower little by bit. It had happened slowly, without Jamie knowing, the bitter feelings sneaking up to him.
As he raised his cup, this time Jaime wondered if the despair feeling inside of him had started when he put on the white cloak and faced with the harsh reality of the Mad King, or if it had crept into him gradually and insidiously as a result of the misery created by the behavior of those who were meant to love and protect him. When did he lose himself so much that he couldn't look at himself in the mirror? Because every time he locked eyes with his reflection these days, he felt as though the man in the mirror was not himself. When, how, and why did the idealistic youngster who idolized Arthur Dayne and others and wished to be like them perish? What had he done to deserve what had happened to him?
He still remembered, as if it were yesterday, how excited he had been when he first donned his white robe at the age of fifteen, in his prime. What simpler days those were. He constantly wondered where that serenity, that peace, that happiness had gone. When did his innocence crumble? When did the brightness in his eyes dim? Who had broken his pure heart, the heart that had simply wished to be a knight? When, at what point in his life, did the person he aspired to be at fifteen die at the hands of everyone who had dirtied his soul so much?
What had happened to that young boy who admired Ser Arthur Dayne the Sword of the Morning, Ser Barristan Selmy the Brave, Ser Oswell Whent the Black Bat, Ser Gerold Hightower the White Bull, Ser Lewyn Martel the Prince, Ser Jonothor Darry the Righteous, Ser Brynden Tully the Blackfish and even Rhaegar Targaryen the Silver Dragon, and then to many others...? What happened to the little boy who looked up to them with so much respect that all he wanted from his wicked life was just to become one of them?
It all had started in Harrenhal, maybe, when Jaime first had donned the white cloak he craved as a result of all the lies and empty promises Cersei spoke into his ears and all the plotting his father would have imposed upon him, if he didn't. However, he had no idea his life would take a new turn the minute he accepted this important responsibility as a member of the Kingsguard. The Mad King had cruelly sent him to King's Landing, depriving him the chance to compete in the tournament or say goodbye to his family. Jaime had lowered his head in surrender and followed the order, oblivious to the days of terror and torture that awaited him in the capital.
Unaware of the depths of the king's insanity, Jaime has been thrown into a position that would haunt him every waking hour. He quickly discovered that, as a member of the Kingsguard, sworn to defend the royal family, he was obligated by honor and duty to accept the king's demands, no matter how irrational they were. He had clenched his hands in futile wrath, realizing that his duty was no longer to guard the realm from external threats, but to obey the increasingly insane whims of a crazy monarch.
The realization that he was powerless to prevent the atrocities happening around him had weighed heavily on his conscience, and it left him with a tremendous sense of guilt and despair. He had started to yearn for the days when chivalry stood for honor, justice, and the protection of the innocent. But, under the Mad King's rule, those principles had been distorted, leaving Jaime with the unavoidable conviction that he had become a prisoner of his own oaths as well as the lunacy of the monarch he had pledged to serve. He had no idea how to deal with his nightmare situation of utter helplessness. This had been, after all, all too much for the 15-year-old lad with pure hopes and a pure heart.
The king's insanity had no boundaries, and it had appeared to grow more chaotic with each passing day, despite Arthur and his other brothers of the Kingsguard promising him that things would get better and that some great shift was on the horizon. Day by day, the king had revealed his cruelty and sadism, causing Jaime to witness unspeakable horrors. He had been powerless to prevent the innocent children from meeting their fiery end at the mad king's command. He had been powerless to prevent all the screams filled the Great Hall.
His duty, once a symbol of virtuous service, had deteriorated into nothing more than a tool to use and make fun of for the increasingly insane king. Once again Jaime had started to feel as if he was just a useless pawn to be used and discarded in the disgusting game of thrones. Day by day, little by little, Jamie's once-proud sense of honor and duty had warped into a cruel and bitter irony and everytime he wore his white cloak he felt dirty. And he had been overwhelmed with bitterness and resentment towards everyone and everything. Particularly against the role he had been forced to play as a result of his entire existence being reduced to being just another pawn in the game that others were playing, and against his mentors, his so-called brothers of the Kingsguard, for not protecting him sufficiently from the harsh reality of their vows.
At one point, he had begun to consider that rather than wearing his supposedly all-white yet stained with dishonor cloak once more to see the Mad King's latest horrific actions, it would be more honorable to turn his blade on himself to end his misery this time. But Arthur had always been there to stop him with a sad smile everytime Jamie was filled with these thoughts. It was as if Arthur had always been able to sense when Jamie needed him the most. In those moments, even though they never talked openly about it, Jamie had felt courage at the presence of Arthur, because he had the strength to keep going even though he had been at Red Keep longer than him. It had been as if he battled with these feelings as well but survived due to finding other reasons to keep going. Like his connection with their other brothers or like this deep friendship with prince Rhaegar Targaryen or all of his hopes for a better future. This is why, no matter how much despair he has felt, Jamie never had the courage to disappoint his mentor. If the great Arthur Dayne could bear this craziness and endure it, so could I, he had reasoned with himself.
And he had endured.
Endured.
Endured.
Even though, the heavy bitter feeling inside of him kept growing more, and more, and more, he had endured this nightmare. Because he still had hope. Surely as Arthur had said good days would come and their torment would end one day.
Then, one day, all of his aspirations and hopes had been completely smashed, and this time he truly felt dead inside. That day, no matter how much his brothers in the Kingsguard fought to prevent it, the Mad King had ordered Jamie to stand guard outside the queen's chambers for the first time. Then he had walked inside and, to Jamie's shock, raped his own wife. While he and Ser Jon Darry had stood watch outside, dressed in their white cloaks, despite the fact that their dignity and chivalry were nowhere to be found.
"You're hurting me," Rhaella had cried through the oaken door. "You're hurting me. Somebody-"
That day, the chilling cries of Rhaella Targaryen had cut through Jaime like a sword through his soul. Her desperate pleas had awakened something within him—a deep sense of anguish and helplessness. Jaime had clenched his fists so tightly that his knuckles turned white, his fingers instinctively drifting towards the hilt of his sword, which was the one constant in his tumultuous life. "We are sworn to protect her as well," he had finally protested, his voice filled with both moral conviction and a burning desire to intervene. "We are," Darry had allowed, his eyes heavy with sorrow, "but not from him."
That day, Jamie kept staring at the closed door all day, frozen where he stood as if he suddenly became a statue, his mind numb and his heart heavy with the truth. In that moment, Jamie had finally realized fully the depths of his own powerlessness. He had been a knight of the Kingsguard, sworn to protect the royal family, yet he was standing idly by as the king, Aerys Targaryen Second of His Name, the Mad King, committed heinous acts against his own wife. What was the point of honor when you had no real power, he had thought. Where has all the righteousness and chivalry gone?
As Jaime had continued to stand guard outside that chamber he felt like another piece of his soul wither and die. The lofty ideals of knighthood, the dreams of honor and chivalry he had once held so dear, had seemed like distant, mocking echoes. That day had marked the beginning of his inner descent, the erosion of his own sense of self-worth and honor. Yet, Jamie still had kept standing guard outside for his so called 'duty'.
Even when the Mad King had left and Darry followed him after throwing a quick worried glance at Jamie, he was still watching the closed door silently.
Jamie had remained there until their Lord Commander, Gerold Hightower, came back to release him of his duty. Jamie had gotten drunk with Oswell Whent in a tavern at the Flea Bottom that night, laughed at his idiotic jokes with Barriston the Bold, and pretended everything was normal the next day with Arthur. They didn't talk about that day or the numerous terrible days that followed, however. After all, what was the purpose of discussing it when they couldn't stop the Mad King from doing all these terrible things again? They all had their own demons, Jamie knew. And now Jamie had met his. So he had learned to endure that as well.
Days came and went as Jamie had gotten used to standing guard at Great Hall at Red Keep as innocent children's screams filled the room due to Mad King's obsession with burning people or standing outside the queen's chambers while helpless to the agonizing screams that emanated from within. Day by day he had gotten used to feeling nothing and numb. He had become so accustomed to this sensation that he felt like a frozen statue rather than a knight with a sword, a knight with the power to end it all. Even as he had gazed over Rickard Stark being burned alive in his armor, while his son Brandon who was tied into a noose with a sword just out of his reach strangled himself to death trying to get to it to save him, Jamie felt nothing. Because all he had been allowed to feel was nothing.
Still, there was still hope on the horizon. All of his and his kingsguard brothers' hopes had rested on the shoulders of the Silver Prince, Rhaegar Targaryen.. However, he had been hiding somewhere with that girl, Lyanna Stark, for Gods know why because Jamie had no idea what the fuck was going on, and all Jamie could do had been to keep standing guard at the side of a mad king, silently watching and waiting for the day all of this nightmare would stop.
Jamie had become deeply concerned, however, when Rhaegar returned alone from his journey without Arthur, Oswell, or Gerold to accompany him. Even though Rhaegar had convinced the Mad King that he had left them behind to prepare for the major battle, Jamie suspected he was lying. He had been well acquainted with his brothers despite the short time they spent together. They couldn't possibly abandon Rhaegar and Jamie on their own, could they? At the very least, Rhaegar would lead him to where they were so his nightmare would cease as well.
Jaime had been also eager to prove himself in combat, to ride alongside the men he had admired for so long. But when he had entered the prince's chamber and begged to follow him to the battle, Rhaegar's eyes had gotten filled with sorrow, and his voice carried a weight that Jaime had never heard before.
"Jaime," Rhaegar had begun, his voice low and grave, "I appreciate your loyalty and your willingness to fight by my side. But I cannot allow you to ride into battle with me."
Jaime's heart had sunk, and he couldn't hide the disappointment in his voice when he pleaded again. "My prince, I've trained my whole life for this moment. I am ready to fight for you, to protect your legacy. Let Darry stay to guard the king this one, or Ser Barristn. Their cloaks are as white as mine and I can't stand anymore that-"
Rhaegar had shook his head slowly, his silver hair cascading over his shoulders. "No, Jaime. My royal sire fears your father more than he does our cousin Robert. He wants you close, so Lord Tywin cannot harm him. He would never allow me to take you with me. "
"But my prince-"
"I need you here, Jamie. I need you here because my father insisted that Elia and my children should return to Red Keep instead of staying at Dragonstone. They are already on their way here but I won't be able to say-" The prince had paused for a moment and closed his eyes in despair, hit his clenched fist to the table in anger and then after a few seconds, continued from where he left of, opening his eyes, "I can't even say my farewells to them because I have to go into the battle. I was ordered to take your other brothers with me while you stay here.''
Jamie had frowned at this while the prince had continued after letting out a mocking laugh, ''It seems my fathers you more than he trusts me, Jamie. He believes you all will be safe here while if I die on the battlefield, well, he's going to say it was my destiny. Can you believe this? HAH. If only Arthur was here so that I could-''
''And where is Arthur and the others, then?'' had whined Jamie in a pleading voice.
''Guarding something precious to me'' said the Prince, giving him a hard look. ''When you donned that cloak, you promised to obey. Do you still remember your oaths?''
Jamie had nodded.
''Then-'' had said Prince, putting his hands together pleadingly, ''-you must protect my family. All of my family. Not just the king. This is the only way you can protect my legacy. Just like what Arthur, Oswell and Gerold are doing right now."
Jaime's confusion had deepened. "What do you mean, my prince?"
Rhaegar's gaze held a profound sadness as he spoke, "I fear for my family, Jaime. The rebellion has grown stronger, and my father's rule has become increasingly unstable. I need someone I can trust to ensure the safety of my wife and children. The fate of the realm depends on it."
Jaime's thoughts had raced, then. He had always admired Rhaegar's honor and sense of duty, but this was a request he had not expected.
''Jamie. Would you swear to me you would protect those who come from my line? Would you swear to protect all my children?'' had asked the Prince, his eyes filled with determination.
Jaime had hesitated, torn between his desire for glory on the battlefield and his loyalty to the prince. But ultimately, he had bowed his head in submission and kneeled. "I will do as you ask, my prince. I swear it. I vow to protect your children, in my honor. Always and forever."
For a few seconds, Prince Rhaegar had said nothing, it was as if he was trying ro determine whether Jamie was telling the truth or not. Then the prince had slowly risen from his seat and walked over to him and Jamie who was still kneeling, watched him warily noticing that the prince had donned his night-black armor today, with the three-headed dragon picked out in rubies on his breastplate, as if he was ready for battle any moment, even at Red Keep.
Gently Rhaegar had grabbed his arms and helped him to rise and then put his hand on his shoulder. "When this battle's done I mean to call a council. Changes will be made. I meant to do it long ago, but . . . well, it does no good to speak of roads not taken. We shall talk when I return. I promise. In my honor."
Jamie had nodded his eyes filled with new hope and wonder. As he had left the chamber, the weight of Rhaegar's plea hung heavy on his shoulders. With each step he had taken, the idea of protecting Rhaegar's wife, Elia, and their children, Rhaenys and Aegon, became a burning mission. In this darkest hour, their lives had depended on him, and for the first time in a long while, Jaime had felt a reason to live beyond the haunting memories of his past. He had been entrusted with the safety of the Targaryen family, a responsibility he could not take lightly.
As he ventured into the unknown, we still have hope, he had thought. I still have a reason to live. In fulfilling Rhaegar's plea, he would be able to seek to honor the dreams of the young boy who had once aspired to be like Arthur Dayne, to protect the innocent, and to stand for something greater than himself.
He had been determined to protect Rhaegar's children so that he could also protect that young boy inside of him.
So, why did he fail so miserably?, he wondered as he kept watching the flames.
Why had nobody cared that as the days had passed and the battle after battle raged on, Jaime's heart had grown heavier with each passing moment?If they did, or maybe if Jamie was older or wiser, would he be able to change what he failed?
When he had found out the prince who was supposed to save all of them died killed by his own kin, when the Mad King had yelled ''burn them all'', when he had no other choice to kill all he wanted had been just to sit and rest for a moment. To celebrate his nightmare ended. That he was the one who did. That he finally did it.
His mind had been numb, so numb at that moment. Then just as the king died, laying in a heap on the steps of the throne, suddenly some of the king's men had entered the throne room and asked him who was the king now. Jamie should have answered 'Aegon the Young, who else?' But he had paused.
In the mind numbness and the exhaustion he had been feeling, he had paused.
DAMN HIM.
DAMN HIM.
DAMN HIM.
He remembers like it happened yesterday how his mind had gone over the options about possibly declaring Aegon or Viserys to be the king, but then figuring out they'd likely be insane like their father. He had thought of his own father Tywin or even that damn kinslayer Baratheon as king, and finally just had told the men he didn't care.
''It's all the same to me…" he had said and then just sat in the throne itself to wait for whomever came along to claim the throne - which as it turned out, happened to be Ned Stark. The 'honorable' Ned Stark who had not known what kind of hell Jamie was living for a while.
He had not thought Elia, Rhaenys and Aegon would be harmed on his father's orders, then. He had not thought he would fail his duty so much, that he would not be able to keep the oath he gave to Rhaegar Targaryen. And those moments, all he had thought had been how exhausted he was. How could he have known that those precious moments would be the last moments that an innocent woman and children breathed for the last time and he had failed to protect the Targaryen family so much?
Jamie still remembered the way he felt as he had knelt beside the lifeless bodies of Aegon and Rhaenys when he gazed upon them. The sight of their small, innocent forms, once filled with potential and the promise of a better future, now cruelly snuffed out, had sent shockwaves through his heart and soul, then.
He had felt a profound sense of sorrow and guilt, knowing that he had failed in his sworn duty to protect them. The weight of that responsibility had bore down on him like a crushing burden and even today Jaime couldn't help but wonder whether their deaths could have been prevented. Even today, Jaime couldn't escape the feeling that he had played a part in this tragedy.
His emotions had been a turbulent blend of sorrow, guilt, and anger as he was able to sleep that night. And the night after that. And the night after that. The promise he had made to Rhaegar to protect his family had been shattered, and the weight of that failure would haunt him for the rest of his days, a grim reminder of the consequences of his choices and the relentless cruelty of the world he inhabited.
He had not been able to keep his oath.
He should have died.
What was the point of living?
Jamie remembered thinking how empty his life had become, in those sleepless nights.
Without Jamie not even realizing, little by little, all of his dreams of pursuing knighthood, striving for honor and prestige had been stripped away due to becoming nothing more than a weapon, a pawn in the ruthless game of thrones orchestrated in the name of power and ambition in the pursuit of the Iron Throne. First by first his own sister, then the mad king Aerys, then finally by his own father. None of them had cared about how the white cloak soiled him, just like nobody cared that he came to feel so thoroughly used and tainted that little remained of his honor or knighthood in the end.
Jamie knew now, at the age of nearly 40, the day he had killed the Mad King was the day he finally killed that young boy inside of him who wanted to be as honorable as Arthur Dayne. He had felt a piece of his soul wither and die at that moment. And did not care what else replaced him.
After that moment, as Jaime had continued to live, the lofty ideals of knighthood, the dreams of honor and chivalry he had once held so dear, started to seem like distant, mocking echoes. At least I have Cersei, he had thought. Yet, when he was alone at night he still had dreams of another life.
From time to time, Jaime had found himself wondering again, and again, again, that if he had possessed the foresight to understand the horrors that lay ahead, the nightmarish acts he would bear witness to, would he have willingly chosen this path again. Would he had made the same choices, even knowing the suffering that awaited him? Could he find a way to alter his fate, to undo the past? These questions had haunted him as he grappled with the burden of his past and the weight of his actions while everyone around him judged him calling kingslayer.
And not even once Jamie had opened his mouth to tell his truth because everyone who would have cared about it was already buried in dirtied soil. And nobody, not even Cersei, Tyrion or his own father, had asked why plunged his sword into the mad king's back. Nobody had realized he wanted to not only save King's Landing or the innocent people that lived inside, he also wanted to save himself.
Even Cersei's presence and all of the honey-filled promises had not helped him at the beginning because he kept thinking about how much he had failed that day. Again. Again. And again. He neither had been able to save Elia and her children nor himself. Why? Why? Why? He had wanted to scream. But then one day, out of nowhere, he noticed the terrible truth when he looked at his reflection in the mirror. He had realized that his greatest fear had come true. That while trying to become another Arthur Dayne, he ended up being just another Laughing Knight instead.
Perhaps this was his punishment for not keeping his oath to the Silver Prince.
Becoming a monster and then staying alive and being judged by everyone around him, and always fighting the same monsters, same ghosts, same maybes, what ifs, as a punishment.
Kingslayer.
Huh.
What did those nicknames matter?
What did Cersei matter?
What did House Lannister matter?
What did it matter to live when he betrayed himself, his own pure heart?
But Jamie had lived.
He had lived.
Or rather, he tried to live.
Without caring, like people would expect of a regicide.
Thinking he didn't care, deluding himself, wondering what Arthur Dayne would think of him if he were in front of him, whether he would be angry or pity him.
Finding solace in the only embrace he had ever truly known, that of his sister Cersei. As he held her, their bodies pressed close together, her warmth against his, Jamie had tried to find a bit of comfort at the familiarity of their union and tried to live. Cersei's soft whispers and loving gestures had been a balm for his wounded soul, this had been the only reason he kept being with her after all, but they hadn't erased the profound sorrow and guilt he carried. Because even in those intimate moments, the lifeless bodies of Aegon and Rhaenys had lingered in the recesses of his mind, haunting his thoughts like relentless specters and making him remember his oath to the Prince.
Worst of all, he had kept feeling as if the vows he had sworn as a member of the Kingsguard seemed to mock him everytime he wore his white cloak. So one day, he decided to wear a mask, and mock them in return by having a child with Cersei.
To hell with the rest of the world, he had thought.
To hell with all of my vows.
To hell with that young boy I used to be.
And hell with that stupid, useless Arthur Dayne who dared to be killed by someone like 'honorable' Ned Stark.
That's how he had kept living.
He lived.
He lived.
He thought he was living.
In the years that followed, he still had grappled with the ghosts of that fateful day, haunted by the knowledge that he had been unable to save Elia, Rhaenys and Aegon just like he was not able to save Rhaella Targaryen from her torment, but the pain lessened as Jamie got used to his mask. Until Daenerys Targaryen had landed in Westeros demanding everyone swore to her and Sansa Stark had sent a letter from Winterfell to all the Lords of the Realm, telling them that Visenya Targaryen, Rhaegar's only true child, was alive.
It had been the moment that had forever changed him, when that letter came, setting him on a path of self-reflection, redemption, and, ultimately, a journey to reclaim the honor he had lost. It had also been the moment that he had learned he did not have his family's love and respect. All he had or could have now only rested in the lips of a dragon.
Jamie had to ride for days to get to Harrenhall, where the lords and ladies of the realm got together to decide who would lead them next. The night had been shrouded in uncertainty, but for Jaime, it had been a new beginning—a chance to redeem himself and to find a glimmer of hope amidst the encroaching darkness.
His heart, black with decay, slowly dying every day, had begun to beat again with excitement when he met Visenya for the very first time on the road.
Visenya had been… everything he had dreamed and wanted from life. A way to earn his honor back and keep his oath. Somebody worthy to serve, he quickly had realized.
Other ghosts had welcomed him back to their arms as well but Visenya, Visenya was the best one.
However, everything had gone wrong again in Harrenhal after Daenerys Targaryen proving she was the Mad King's daughter, and the brave Barriston Selmy dying when he tried to protect a fake dragon. Yet, Jamie's heart was full of hope because a dragonwolf had been born at the dawn of that dark day. Lyarra Snow, or Lyarra Stark to some, had died that day, and when she was reborn again this time she was called Visenya Targaryen.
So once again, this time willingly, really willingly, Jamie had knelt to the ground, a white cloak on his back and a smile on his face.
That's why he had wanted to be Arthur Dayne again, to prove himself to the Realm.
That's why he had chosen to serve once more to the dragon's blood, to Visenya, Rhaegar's true daughter.
And that was why, when days later Arya had looked into his eyes and confessed how much she had enjoyed it when she had slowly killed Cersei, wearing the face of her brother Tyrion, his heart had only ached and regretted... that he had not been the one to end the lives of her twin sister Cersei and her younger brother Tyrion, who had become more and more insane with the power in their hands, with jealousy, with the fire of revenge.
Jamie had found himself again, his honor and his knighthood in Winterfell. That's why he was going to fight with dragon blood again. That's why his heart was full of hope even when he was surrounded by White Walkers, the Night King and Queen, honorable and dishonorable men.
This was how Jamie Lannister was feeling when he prepared for the battle of Winterfell.
Hours passed and Jamie donned his armor, carrying the weight of his past and the hope for a better future. In the face of the looming darkness, he was ready to endure, to face the challenges of the battle, and to seek the redemption he so fervently desired.
So no matter how wounded he was, no matter how hard it was, Jamie fought, fought, fought.
For himself.
For his duty as a Kingsguard.
For his honor.
For Visenya, Princess that was Promised and the rightful queen of the seven kingdoms.
For Arthur Dayne.
Despite the blood on his head, despite the pain in his chest, despite his trembling hand, despite the endless and growing number of White Walkers, despite all the other Lords of the Realm who refused to send reinforcements to Winterfell despite their pleas, despite the faith of the seven, Jamie Lannister kept swinging his sword.
Again.
Again.
And again.
Until he raised his head after hearing that terrible roar, that terrible shrill cry of Rhaegal.
Until he saw Visenya fall from her dragon with the Night King's spear buried in her chest.
Until all his hope, his honor, his purpose, the last true dragon, the promised princess, the last child of Rhaegar, died in that moment with Visenya.
Yes, Jamie had many tragedies in his life. But in none of those tragedies Jamie felt as helpless, as incomplete, as lost as he did when he saw Visenya's fall as he was trying to fight against the White Walkers on the ramparts of Winterfell.
So, Jamie closed his eyes in pain.
Once again he had failed to keep his promise to Rhaegar and Arthur, failed to protect Rhaegar's family. What was the point of living anymore?
It was with these feelings that Jamie, ignoring his brave companions who were fighting for their lives against the White Walkers and the White Walker slowly approaching him, gently returned the sword in his hand to its hilt at his waist, closed his eyes, spread his hands and murmured. ''Forgive me, Rhaegar. Forgive me, Arthur. Forgive me Visenya. If I had one more chance...If I had one more chance...
.
.
.
OPEN YOUR EYES, JAMIE LANNISTER.
OPEN YOUR EYES.
OPEN YOUR EYES.
.
Jamie opened his eyes slightly and started breathing rapidly and once again his world changed completely.
WINTERFELL.
112 AC.
''FINALLY! I'm Bennard Stark. This is Rickon Stark. Blah blah blah. Let's skip all the other boring stuff and come to the part where you explain what the fuck is going on or we take your head off, stranger'' yelled Bennard Stark, who was watching the newly awakened man with eyes filled with anger and resentment, after stomping his foot at the ground angrily. Rickon Stark, the Lord of Winterfell, barely managed to resist the urge to roll his eyes (his signature move towards his hot-tempered brother these days), or scream out in utter frustration. They have been at each other's throats ever since Bennard woke up and realized their godswood was filled with strangers that came from Gods know where and Rickon, at least for now, wanted to give all of them the benefit of the doubt.
While brothers were busy glaring at each other, Jamie startled where he lay after hearing Bennard's voice and blinked a couple of times in wonder. Then he squinted to adjust his eyes to the bright light, hoping for the best and expecting-... He had no idea what he was expecting or what the hell was going on. Wasn't I supposed to be dead?, he thought silently to himself.
"Can we kill them now?" asked Bennard in a slight mocking voice, after a couple of seconds filled with tense silence, raising his brows in question. The glare he got in return was not only from Bennard but also from all the strangers (besides Jamie who was still laying on the ground trying to understand what the fuck was going on) seemed to give him sadistic glee.
As Jamie was still trying to adjust his eyes to the bright light by blinking rapidly while at the same he tried to remember who the hell was Bennard Stark, a couple of grunts came right behind him and then he heard the sound of a sword being unsheathed as if in warning which caused the other side to unsheathe their swords as well. Oh great, he thought.
"Easy, stranger.'' said another voice Jamie was not able to recognize. "Do not give me any other reason to take your head off"
"My lord?" asked another, his voice filled with worry.
Jamie tried to turn towards the direction of the voices where his gut yelled 'threat' to take in his surroundings, but as he moved suddenly he felt a sharp pain shoot through his chest and his head began to spin. ''Am I-'' he tried to ask but he startled himself as his voice came out in a kind of rasp. He coughed, trying to clear his throat. ''de-''
''No, you are not dead. Neither of us are, golden hand'' replied someone behind him. Jamie frowned. The voice sounded so familiar but he was not able to remember who it belonged to because his vision was still blurred and his head was still spinning so he blinked his burning eyes to shake it off. ''What the-'' he tried to ask this time after gulping but the same voice continued ''Take is easy, golden hand. It's best none of make other sudden moves since we are all friends here, aren't we?'' he asked but then raised his voice aggressively, ''Because if we are being threatened here well I'm gonna show you reason why I'm nicknamed-''
"Enough with the threatening. My patience has a limit." yelled Rickon Stark glaring at his brother who started the whole thing.
"What?" asked Bennard boldly, taking a couple of steps towards Jamie, his voice filled with barely controlled anger, "You know I'm damn right! These people… there is even a wildling among them. How can we trust them?! It's obvious that-"
"BENNARD!" yelled Rickon hitting his sword's hilt in anger to the ground. "If you are not capable of acting properly in my presence, get out of my sight before I do something we both regret."
Bennard stopped dead in his tracks, jaw clenched and fists clenched. Rickon sighed deeply and covered his face with his hand for a few seconds before shrugging his shoulders and giving Bennard an angry look signaling him to take a step back as the guards around them fidgeted slightly where they stood, their hands still on their swords and eyes on Jamie and the other strangers.
While Rickon was busy sending a very hard look at his brother to shut him up and all of this measuring happening around him, Jamie was still busy with trying to breath properly. When a couple of chuckles came right behind him after the man who had threatened him took a step back, he frowned and blinked rapidly once again. His mind was still muddled because of his unconsciousness, as he was trying to move his body with ease and his head was throbbing painfully. Slowly he put one of his hands to his head and inhaled deeply, trying to regain his consciousness fully but ended up coughing painfully this time.
"Should we-?" Jamie heard someone asking but somebody must have shaken their heads because nobody came to help him. What the fuck is going on, Jamie thought as he was coughing. His rational and observant mind told him he should have been dead but he obviously wasn't. Instead he was surrounded with people a) who claimed to be Starks and was probably right (because Jamie, as much as he didn't want to admit it, spent so much time with the people from North that he'd gotten to the point where even blindfolded he could tell that if someone was a Stark, a Flint or from some other house by their tone of voice, accent, and gestures) but they were still obviously threatening him or was wary of him b) who obviously did not give a fuck about him with silently standing beside him.
Fuck you people behind me, he ended up thinking this time. I'm feeling all the love from here. Fuck you people who are threating me also. You are obviously from the North, probably Starks so what is up with this crap. Did we not move past this after Harrenhal? Wait… am I not supposed to be dead? Why am I not dead? Am I forgetting something? I'm forgetting something, aren't I? What the fuck am I forgetting?
Jamie heard somebody letting out another heavy sigh, as if he was greatly inconveniencing them by taking too long to clear his head. He resisted the urge to turn around and yell 'You fucking moron', not that he had any power to turn around to that side, and focused on another matter instead. Like the wobbly feeling inside him and his aching muscles.
After much difficulty, when his mind cleared a bit (no thanks to the all the nice folks around him who watched his suffering patiently) Jamie put his golden hand over his heart and slowly turned from where he was lying to face the first threat, completely ignoring people behind him because well, if they were going to do something they could have done already.
"Oh great" he whined when he realized who were the men who were watching him intently, their eyes filled with contempt. They were indeed Stark men just like he predicted. Guards in silver armor and heavy gray wool cloaks of white satin, with their swords drawn, and right behind them were the two men who were obviously Starks as well. There were also thick wolf fur cloaks on their shoulders, watching him mockingly and right next to them, feeding a Direwolf on the sidelines, he came across a boy who was also obviously a Stark as well. What a lovely welcoming party to my afterlife. More Starks, he thought.
''Where the fuck-'' Jamie paused and squinted his eyes, locked them on the direwolf and called out, "Ghost?''
The moment Ghost heard Jamie's voice, he stopped licking the little Stark's hand, ran to him excitedly, and bent his head down to lick Jamie's cheek. Jamie wiped his cheek with his hand and pushed Ghost's head away slightly.
"You spoiled wolf. How many times I have to tell you to stop licking me! " But Ghost completely ignored him and instead started running alongside him with legs moving so fast they blurred. Jamie felt his head start to spin and couldn't help himself but to beg. 'Ghost please for the sake of your owner. Stop'' Ghost stopped running and simply gave him a puppy look as she kept wagging her tail slightly.
"OH COME ON. FOR THE OLD GODS SAKE. THIS IS NOT HOW YOU WELCOMED ME WHEN I WOKE UP. I FEEL BETRAYED, WHITE WOLF!" a voice moaned from behind Jamie.
Jamie slowly turned from where he was lying back in the direction of the voice, coughing slightly due to all the movements he had to do even though he was still in pain.
''Tormund? What's going on here? We-'' he paused and slowly looked around, ''Where are we? The last thing I remember...''
"Night king. The White Walkers. The terrible fall of Visenya. We were all there. And then...'' Tormund began to count with his fingers.
''...and then we weren't,'' Arya Stark said, stepping up behind Tormund.
What the fuck, Jamie thought and opened his mouth to reply but paused at the sound of a throat clearing behind him. His gaze turned towards once more to the guards and the imposing men who were obviously Starks. He blinked and then raised one eyebrow, his eyes darting back and forth between Arya and the other Starks several times before settling on Arya and raising one eyebrow questioningly. Arya clasped her hands behind her back, shrugged her shoulders, nodded and winked at him with a smile. "Great, all I need is more Starks." Jamie murmured softly to himself with a deep sigh.
"Now that you're all awake-" cut in Rickon Stark, after he had gotten everyone's attention by lightly tapping his sword, the Winter, with its hilt, "-will one of you please explain to me who you are and what is going on here? "
Jamie gestured with his good hand to Rickon Stark to wait for a moment, then slowly stood up with his other golden hand supporting himself from the ground and opened his mouth to answer as he stroked Ghost's fur with his good hand, but was startled by another voice coming from right behind him. ''Yes, I want an explanation as well, brother. And I want it now. " Said an angry voice.
Jamie slowly turned around and was startled for the second time since waking. Arthur Dayne, the Star of the Morning, the most valiant knight in the Seven Realms, stood before him, one hand on the hilt of his sword, staring at him angrily.''ARTHUR?'' he asked, squinting his eyes again.
Arthur took his hand off his sword, took a step towards him and, before anyone could stop him, punched Jamie in the face. The last thing Jamie heard as he fell to the ground again, unconscious, was Tormund laughing and saying to Arya Stark, "I've always wanted to do that. Once as a Wildling I-" and suddenly a fight broke out between the Stark men and Tormund.
Jamie's last thought as he lost consciousness was that Tormund really should have learned when to keep his mouth shut.
A/N:Sorry this one took a bit time to post but I really wanted to work on it properly and I was super busy with work. As always, I've added more new stuff to this version instead of just translating it to English so I hope the people who has read the previous version like this one as well. To be completely honest, I feel like I should have worked on this chapter/on some sentences more but I really felt like I had to get it out of my hands because I keep adding new stuff to it! I apologise if there's any spelling mistake or some wording sounds weird but I've read this chapter so much I was like 'Enough! Just post it already!'. If you guys notice something weird let me know :/
This was also going to be a HUGE chapter but I decided to split them into two instead because if I didn't well you guys probably had this chapter by next week. I'm busy with work a little bit but I'll try to post it soon. I just need to work on it a bit more ;) Like adding some bickering for Arthur and Jamie
Now, that stuff is out of the way let me proudly introduce you guys 'Overprotective Winter Guards'. This chapter might sound like a filler to some and like I'm taking too slow to getting Visenya chapters but I want you guys to understand properly;
a)why this squad is so overprotective of Visenya, would totally be against any Daemon/Visenya romance and why Visenya feels so done with all of the them
b)why all of these idiots (including Viserys and Daemon) needs Visenya to be in charge.
Just wait until Viserys and others hears about Visenya's jumping :D What can you do when the girl you are supposed to protect goes from climbing towers to jumping from the towers, am I right? :D To all the people who missed Visenya, it's probably going go like this:
Arya and Tormund: *clap*
Arthur: totally chill, not shocked because believe or not he has seen worse from Visenya
Jamie: about to lose his mind
Ghost: glares at Rhaegal and silently judges him,'Did I not tell you do shit like this?!'
Cregan: *smiles all proud* but at the same time but at the same time he is confused trying to understand whether this happened because of Visenya's dragon blood or wolf blood.
Rickon: *facepalms* He already wants to retire and go to some place far and far away where he wont be forced to deal with shit like this
Visery: *facepalms* Because you know, it turns out Visenya can be actually worse than Daemon when she wants to be and feels depressed because Visenya keeps ignoring his letters
Daemon: Why did you guys have to show up? I had everything under control. I was 'this' close to seducing-
Rhea Royce: *hugs Visenya* and Excuse me, I'm still alive? Did you forget about me?
Visenya and Gerardys: *feel so done with all of this*
Part of me really wants to write a short story where this Jamie goes back in time, days before Aegon and Rhaenys die, saves them, goes to Dorne to kidnap and raise Visenya, raises her with Aegon and Rhaenys in Essos with Arthur, Oswell and Gerold while they keep bickering about how to raise them (because Jamie would be like there is no way I'm letting you guys call my baby a bastard again) and then totally freaks out because Aegon starts lusting after Visenya when he grows up hahahaha.
Every comment, kudos etc. brings a smile to my face and I really like reading what you guys think so please share it me! :D I also feel like 'Changing Destinies Part blah blah blah' sucks as a title so if anybody has any other suggestions for all the 'Visenya did not show up yet' chapters let me know!