A knight without honour? More twisted show dialogue, with set-up.

Jaime

Why he'd decided on doing this baffled him. Well, not entirely. That wretched Wench and her squire had managed to persuade him to continue with the siege, spilling as little blood as possible. He hadn't gone with her to Kings Landing, a decision he would regret to his dying day. Would Tommen still be alive if he'd followed her advice? Despite the Wench being able to save Queen Margaery, it hadn't been enough to save his son. Cersei hadn't deigned to bother to tell the boy that his wife hadn't been present when the Sept of Baelor had gone up in bright green smoke, which was definitely the doing of his sister. Cersei had practically killed the boy himself. Jaime hadn't cared much for Joffrey, but Myrcella and Tommen were different, they were sweet and good. Ever since Myrcella had died in his arms, he'd wanted to be a father to Tommen, but he'd now lost his chance, and although he could shoulder a small bit of blame, the rest lay heavily on the shoulders of the new Queen, Cersei Lannister. Of course she'd crowned herself within a couple of weeks, as if she'd expected their son to take his own life. The Cersei he had once loved was gone, dead. In her place was a power hungry mass murdering bitch. The thought that he even lain with her; having kissed her and been inside of her... it made bile rise in his throat. He couldn't even mourn her.

Jaime hadn't even believed Brienne when she'd told him about Cersei's plan, even he couldn't imagine she'd go that far, gods he was a fool. However, to placate her and keep his sellsword happy, he'd sent Bronn with her to show good faith. Bronn had been itching for a fight once they got to Riverrun, sieges weren't really his thing, he didn't have the patience for them. So to keep him happy he'd sent the man with the Wench to Kings Landing. When news had come that the Wench had been in the right and the Sept exploded, Jaime's heart broke in two, especially as the following news was that Tommen had died at his own hands due to grief from the death of his wife. At that point he'd been ready to either throw everything at Riverrun or just pack up and head south to confront Cersei. But Jaime had become a surprisingly rational man in his older years, so he waited for Bronn to return and tell him what had truly happened in Kings Landing.

The day Bronn returned, news of another event came to his ears, the Frey's were all dead. That had made his mind up for him. He was being kept in the Riverlands fighting for a lost cause. At least Sansa Stark, despite everything his family had done to her, at least had, had the decency to try and save Margaery and Tommen. That was far more than could be said for Tommen's own mother. This told him a lot about the people Jaime was dealing. In the south was Cersei, who was so power hungry she'd kill her own good-daughter and let her son die for power. In the east, the daughter of the Mad King was descending upon their shores, with three fully grown dragons and a reputation as a conqueror. In the north as the supposed son of one of the few men Jaime had admired as a youth, Rhaegar Targaryen, who happened to be raised by a man whose approval he would have once desired, Ned Stark.

Jaime hadn't taken much notice of the boy when he'd seen him in Winterfell. He'd looked like any other seventeen year old, too; too eager to be a hero, too eager to die for nothing. He hadn't stood out, looked like a typical Stark. However, clever Ned had counted on them not noticing him. The honourable Ned Stark hadn't even told his wife about the boy. She'd been cruel to the lad, that was a certainty. But by bringing the boy home, Ned had been cruel to her. Then it turned out to be for nought, as the child wasn't even Ned's in the first place. Jaime was therefore curious to see who this boy had become. The stories about him were ludicrous, even if they were half true, especially the ones claiming he rode into battle on the back of a great white direwolf followed by a dragon of various descriptions, flying over head, did seem a little outlandish to his own sensibilities.

Bronn had brought news of Margaery's rescue and Jaime made a swift decision, without the backing of the King and Queen he was about to swear fealty to, although he hoped they'd appreciate his gesture. Tyrion was hand of the Dragon Queen, and Jaime knew his brother would hit Casterly Rock first. To prevent loss of life, he left only a minimal command, instead evacuating the occupants and family to other houses which were north of the rock. Some of the soldiers had been sent to help Olenna Tyrell, as it had to appear she had been kidnapped by his Lannister forces. Through his communications, he discovered the food storage and gold had been moved from the Reach, although the Queen of Thorns cleverly wouldn't tell him where she'd stored it. Jaime's men moved Olenna to House Banefort, which was a loyal Lannister House, she would be safe. He didn't expect Tyrion to go north of Casterly Rock, and it would be easier to move Olenna from Banefort to Winterfell if needed. He communicated this with Lady Olenna and his aunt Genna, who was close to his father, and who had the same keen eye to detail and tactical nuance as him too. Once the movement was in place, he'd chosen Genna to watch over the Lannister solders who were riding to Moat Cailin to protect the north from Cersei and the Dragon Queen. He had charged her with trying to make the ruin into something remotely habitable and restore as much as possible to allow the enormous army to stay there. Of course, moat Cailin was too small to house the entire Lannister and Tyrell army, a combined force of well over a hundred thousand men, therefore he'd left half of his twenty thousand men at the Twins. As for Lady Olenna, she'd been organising the exodus of the Tyrell army from the Reach. He'd leave the placement of the Tyrell army up to the King and Queen in the north. He'd done his duty.

Once everything was set into place, Jaime headed for Winterfell with a retinue of a hundred men. He didn't know exactly how he'd be received, nor did he know what their supply lines looked like, but he needed enough men with him to ensure his safety, because Jaime wasn't a stupid man. The Stark's had suffered at the hands of the Lannister's, and Jaime wasn't entirely innocent in the contribution towards their suffering. He knew he was going to have to prove himself in front of a trial of sorts, even if they had invited him to the party in the first place. The Wench had not exactly guaranteed his safety, but he knew her influence would carry great weight in any defence he put up.

When Jaime Lannister arrived at Winterfell and was immediately arrested, he wasn't entirely surprised, nor was he shocked that the men in his retinue were also detained, however they were all given food and shelter, which was as good as they could hope for under the circumstances.

As he was escorted into the Great Hall, memories came flooding back of his previous time there, one of great feasting with King Robert, Joffrey and Sansa had just been betrothed and nobody knew about him and Cersei. He had both of his hands, was still young and handsome and probably was a bit too arrogant. This time, it was very different, the room wasn't in a celebratory mood, it was solemn and sombre. Gone were Lord and Lady Stark, replaced by well... Lord and Lady Stark, except not quite. This time it wasn't Robert and Cersei whore wore crowns, instead Sansa and her now husband, Jon or Aegon, Jaime wasn't sure what to call him; who wore silver circlets with direwolves upon their heads. Looking at them, the irony that these two had grown up as siblings but were now married, wasn't lost on Jaime. They might be cousins blood, but they were still raised as brother and sister. Jon Snow had taken and oath of celibacy and become a sister-fucker, just like he had. He didn't know whether to congratulate the man or pity him.

The rest of the hall was made up of faces of people he assumed to be Lords of the North, none who he particularly recognised other than the Dowager Queen Margaery, Lord Manderly, Lady Barbrey Dustin and Lord Bronze Yohn Royce of the Vale. He looked around, allegedly Littlefinger was supposed to be part of the group, but he couldn't see him anywhere. He spotted the Wench with her squire, who was sat next to Bronn, who grinned at him, but Jaime couldn't be bothered to return the smile. There were even children in the hall, although judging from the expressions on their faces, they were Lords and ladies in their own rights. Gods the north was in a worse state than he thought. He wanted to get the trial over and done with so that he could gain their trust and be of some damned use against the Dragon Queen and his bitch of a sister.

"Your graces." Jaime decided to start things off.

Queen Sansa stood. "Do you know why you are here?" she asked. Jaime was stunned, at first he'd thought she looked like Cat, but on closer inspection she made her mother look rather plain. She had grown into an incredible beauty, but from the way she carried herself, she was as strong as steel, with an exterior as icy as the weather outside. Gone was the young girl he remembered from Kings Landing.

"I thought I was being offered bowl of the famous Winterfell pottage, I hear it is the greatest in all of Westeros. Seems I'm very much mistaken." he said sarcastically.

Sansa sat and Jon stood. For the first time Jaime could get a proper look at the boy who he'd met years ago, the one who was supposed to be Rhaegar's son. If a person didn't know to look, they wouldn't see Rhaegar Targaryen in him, apart from the eyes. Jaime couldn't remember the flash of indigo before, but it was there. Not only were the eyes the same, but apart from the hair, the beard and the overall shape of his face, which was longer than Rhaegar's, Jaime could see the similarities. His heart dropped, as a boy, he'd hero-worshipped both Ser Arthur Dayne and prince Rhaegar, now he stood on trial in front of that familiar face. Suddenly, Jaime didn't feel like being sarcastic and japing, he felt like the sixteen year old being told off by the heroic prince.

"Ser Jaime Lannister, you are on trial for attacking Lord Eddard Stark and injuring him in the streets of Kings Landing." Jon said, retaking his seat.

Jaime frowned. He'd expected them to at least make up something better than that? He'd done some terrible things, but that was all they were putting him on trial for? "I was ordered to stop him from leaving."

"By who?" Sansa asked.

"The Queen." Jaime replied.

"Your sister?" Jon raised an eyebrow.

Jaime nodded. "I know, there are so many Queens right now, a Dragon Queen, my sister, a Dowager Queen..." he nodded towards Margaery, "But the only Queen I submit to is the Queen in the North." he bowed his head towards Sansa.

"How do you plead?" Sansa asked.

"For what?" Jaime asked. "I was acting on orders. Am I supposed to disobey my King?"

"But you said it was the Queen who gave the order." Sansa's voice was cold.

"When you get the order from the King or the Queen, you carry them out, your grace. I'm sure you spent enough time in Kings Landing to understand how the Kingsguard works."

"Were you ordered to injure him?" Jon asked.

"I didn't. It wasn't on my command that the soldier stuck a spear into his leg. In fact I punched the soldier and ordered for him to be disciplined afterwards." Jaime told them, as Jon and Sansa began to confer. "Is that all I'm on trial for?" he asked as Jon and Sansa stopped talking and turned to him. "Or am I on trial for simply being a Lannister? I have a hundred men outside and twenty thousand split between Moat Cailin and the Twins. I could've offered my services to the Dragon Queen, but I chose to come north to this godforsaken country..."

"You attacked my father in the streets. You tried to destroy my house and my family, do you not think that is a serious offence? Is this some kind of jape to you?" Sansa asked.

"Do you want me to apologize? I won't. We were at war. Everything I did, I did for my house and my family. I'd do it all again." Jaime insisted, turning to Jon. "I'd understand more if you were wanting me tried for the murder of your grandfather, the Mad King." Jon said nothing. "I admit the crime, I stabbed him in the back and cut his throat. Is that what you want from me? Your grace."

Jon shook his head. "You are not here to be tried for the crimes against my house."

"Why? I'm guilty. Is that not a more treasonable offence? Is it not treason to break my oath and kill the King I'm sworn to protect, your grandfather? Yet here you are charging me with following orders which happened at a time of war?" he was confused.

"So why have you abandoned your house and family now?" Jon asked.

"I have abandoned my sister and brother." he corrected them. "As Lord of Casterly Rock, the rest of the Lannister's stand with me."

"Why have you abandoned her?" Jon asked.

"Because she used all of us, including me and her children for her own gain. She allowed Tommen to die, I believe she knew Lady Margaery was alive, yet she didn't tell her son. Our son. Now he is dead. I can't forgive that." he lowered his eyes.

Jaime heard the clanking of armour and he knew the Wench had stood. "Your graces." she walked from behind her table and stood in the middle of the Hall besides Jaime. "I know Ser Jaime. He is a man of honour. I was his captor once. But when we were both taken prisoner and the men holding us tried to force themselves on me, Ser Jaime defended me. And lost his hand because of it." she turned to Sansa. "Without him, my lady, you would not be alive. He armed me, armored me, and sent me to find you and bring you home because he'd sworn an oath to your mother."

Sansa looked him up and down and then back up at Brienne. "You vouch for him?"

"I do." Brienne nodded.

"You would fight beside him?" Sansa asked.

"I would." Brienne agreed.

"I trust you with my life. If you trust him with yours, we should let him stay." Sansa nodded and turned to Jon.

"When the time comes, we'll need every man we can get." Jon agreed.

"Very well." Sansa said sternly, the charges are dropped. "

"Thank you, Your Grace." Jaime nodded. "I do have news which might be of interest to you."

"Go on." Jon narrowed his eyes.

"Cersei has employed the The Golden Company from Essos, bought and paid for. They are sending her twenty thousand fresh troops. She also has the naval fleet of Euron Greyjoy at her command." Jaime told them.

"I thought the Iron Throne was bankrupt." Sansa looked confused.

"She looted the wares of the Faith Militant and is blackmailing the remaining faith of the seven. They are wealthy enough to pay off the debts owed to the Iron Bank." Jaime told them. "She was set on getting hold of the Tyrell gold and grain, but I believe your grandmother had the foresight to hide it." Jaime looked to Margaery, who simply smiled. "The unsullied have already taken Casterly Rock. I have taken lady Olenna to safety under the guise of kidnapping. My sister would approve of the move and will believe that I am preventing your forces from marching south. However I'm here to pledge my fealty as Lord of House Lannister of Casterly Rock and the Westerlands. If I still had my sword I'd be able to do this properly."

"First bring Ser Jaime salt and bread." Sansa called out as Podrick stepped forward with a plate of bread and some salt, as if they expected this to be the outcome. Jaime picked up the bread, dipped it into the salt and ate it. Then an unfamiliar older man handed Widow's Wail back to him. Jaime kneeled with the point to the floor.

"I offer my services to your graces. I will shield your back and keep your counsel and give my life for yours if need be. I swear it by the Old Gods and the New."

Jon stood looking to Sansa, who nodded. "And I vow that you shall always have a place by my hearth, and meat and mead at my table. And I pledge to ask no service of you that might bring you dishonour. I swear it by the Old Gods and the New. Do you swear to serve House Stark with your hand, heart and voice?" Jon asked.

"I do," Jaime replied. "My children will serve House Stark as men-at-arms and handmaidens. Neither they nor I will rule here."

"Rise, as a courtier in the service of House Lannister." Jon agreed as Jaime stood. Jon looked to the rest of the room. "The council is dismissed." he commanded, Jon's voice reminding Jaime of Rhaegar, except with a northern accent. Jaime sighed with relief as everyone began to file out of the room. "Ser Jaime." Jon called out and he walked over to the King. "If you wouldn't mind, the Queen and I would like a word in private." he said.

"Of course your grace." Jaime bowed, following them and watching their body language closely. Admittedly he'd thought the marriage was just a shrewd political move, but on closer inspection, they weren't just married for political reason, they so in synchronisation with one another, it was clear there was a lot more to their marriage dynamic than just politics. Bronn had mentioned they'd been sharing a bed for a long time, and Jaime could tell, they were physically intimate. A tinge of jealousy, he and the woman he had loved could never have gotten away with marriage. Mayhaps she wouldn't have turned out the way she did if they'd have been allowed to wed. not that it mattered, after seeing the Wench again, and hearing her speak, his heart had fluttered like never before. Not even Cersei had made him feel like this, a green boy. Speaking of the Wench, she followed them closely. Eventually they arrived at a door, which Jon opened and they filed in, Brienne stood outside waiting.

"Lady Brienne will show you to your quarters. Should we be referring to you as Ser Jaime or Lord Lannister?" Jon asked.

Jaime frowned. Nobody had questioned his title, Lord Lannister made him feel old, but at least it gave him a semblance of respectability. "Lord Lannister." he replied. "I've officially taken the title." he told them.

Jon and Sansa nodded. "I apologise for the trial Lord Lannister." Sansa said, surprising him. "We had to show our allies that we were prepared to put you to trial first and that we wouldn't use you for your men."

"Are you?" Jaime asked. "To take the Iron Throne, your grace." he looked at Jon.

"I have no interest in the Iron Throne." Jon admitted. "Unfortunately, I suspect the Iron Throne might have an interest in me. As such, I do need support."

"Your aunt has three dragons." Jaime warned.

"Aye, she thinks she does." Jon smirked. "Mayhaps on of those dragons belongs to me. She only rides Drogon."

"What purpose would you have with a dragon?" Jaime was testing Jon.

"Well it would make life a lot easier to get around. If I did take the Iron Throne, I may not have to live in that snake pit of a capital." Jon sighed, and Jaime laughed.

"As a flying horse?" he shook his head.

"The idea of burning people alive has no appeal to me." Jon eyed Jaime wearily.

"Why did you wish to see me alone?" Jaime asked, deciding to get to the point.

"After this, Lady Brienne will show you to your quarters where you may clean up and get warm. You can dine with us all in the hall afterwards, then it will be time for a council meeting, which you will be part of." Sansa told him.

"Do I have a choice?" Jaime japed.

"Not if you want to stay." Jon said. "There are issues in Westeros besides your sister and my aunt. Depending on how long it takes to deal with them, then we are going to be waging wars for many years to come. Me being on the Iron Throne could make ease the problem. The threat comes from north of the wall. An army of dead men are marching south. I've seen them, along with a number of other men of the Night's Watch. That is why I brought the Freefolk south, and why... I was murdered for it."

"So it is true, you did come back from the dead?" Jaime asked and Jon nodded. "I hear you are a fearsome warrior. Have you swung your sword at anyone living?" he japed.

"Sadly too many." Jon nodded.

"You don't like killing?" Jaime seemed surprised.

Jon shook his head. "There have been one or two where it felt good I suppose."

"Lord Baelish." Sansa smirked. Jaime looked between them. "Dead. Jon beheaded him."

"About time." Jaime laughed. "I suppose I should offer congratulations on your wedding. I hope it is better than the previous attempts."

"Anything is better than those." Sansa nodded and Jon suddenly looked quite put out. "But Jon would be a good match by any standard."

"The son of Rhaegar Targaryen. You don't get much better than that." Jaime smiled. "You look like him. I can't believe I didn't see it before. Although you were just a boy back then."

"Aye." Jon nodded. "He wasn't much older than me when he died."

"And I respect Lord Stark for protecting you. That really did take balls to go against his best friend and wife to keep you alive. Had Robert had known, he'd have executed him as a traitor." Jaime's grimaced, as neither of them said anything about the comment.

"Dinner will be in an hour Lord Lannister." Sansa smiled.

"Your grace." he looked to Jon, he had to ask him the question. "What is your name?"

"My mother called me Aegon. That is my official Targaryen name, but I'm still Jon." he replied. "It will be good to have such a knowledgeable Commander on our council." he smiled. "Now we must leave you. We have urgent business to attend to. Lord Lannister." Jon nodded.

"Lord Lannister." Sansa nodded.

"Your graces." Jaime nodded back as he followed them out of the room.

"Lady Brienne, would you see Lord Lannister to his chambers and then return to the kings chambers and wait outside until we go to dinner?" Sansa ordered the Wench.

"Of course your grace." the Wench bowed her head and turned to him. "Follow me." she ordered, and Jaime did as he was told.