Kaela's eyes drifted over the strong form of the boy in front of her, his leather shirt stained with soot and ash, as was the rest of his skin. He ran a hand over his sweaty forehead, his fingers brushing through his dark hair as Kaela felt another stab of familiarity. More than just the vision she had. She could swear she had seen the boy before, but she couldn't place where no matter how hard she racked her mind for the information. Catching her staring openly at him, the boy's lips twitched into a smirk as he held out a jewelled handle toward her, watching as she shook her head.
"Something the matter?" He questioned.
"No. No, I only thought...perhaps we have met each other before? What did you say your name was?" Kaela replied, as the boy lifted his gaze to hers.
"Gendry, my Lady. And I would think I'd remember such a meeting" Gendry stated.
"Whilst I appreciate the title, I'm afraid I am no lady. I'm a handmaiden for the Stark's and no more" Kaela explained, as Gendry let out a scoff under his breath.
"I doubt that my Lady" Gendry mumbled, as Kaela felt a smile growing on her lips.
"Besides, Lord Stark must think pretty highly of you to send you here to represent him" Gendry pointed out, as Kaela's face turned white at his words.
"Yes. He must" Kaela murmured, nibbling at her bottom lip.
She was used to lying. Her whole life was built on lie after lie, but this appeared to be one she could have trouble running away from. She had announced to the armourer that she was there with a request from Lord Stark, who would pay handsomely for some discreet work. Thinking on her feet, she had asked for a small dagger to be made for Arya, figuring it would be something her Lady would wish for.
"Have you worked here long, Gendry?" Kaela inquired, as he made his way over to the fire.
"Half my life. My master treats me well enough" Gendry said, with a slight shrug of his shoulders.
"You were sold to the armourer?" Kaela pushed.
"I was an orphan. It was good work, and I wasn't exactly in a position to say no. Why all the questions?" Gendry retorted.
"I have a curious nature. May I inspect the weight of that dagger?" Kaela asked, ushering over to a small dagger propped up a few metres away.
"You're really buying a blade for a lady then?" Gendry mumbled, reaching behind him and taking hold of the dagger.
"Lady Arya is...rather different. Her Lord father understands that" Kaela answered, taking the dagger from his hand, and running her finger over the sharp blade.
"Four hundred silver stags for that blade" The armourer announced, peeking over her shoulder.
"A deal cannot be struck for the Hand of the King?" Kaela replied, as Gendry attempted to cover up with his laughter with a forced cough.
"Three hundred and ninety-nine silver stags then. Seeing as you asked so nicely, my Lady" The armourer mocked, turning away from her before she could retort.
"I imagine he's a delight to work for" Kaela murmured, in a hushed voice, as Gendry's grin grew.
"...If your Lady is truly looking for something special, perhaps this blade may suit her? I carved the handle myself. It's a lightweight blade, easily concealed" Gendry told her, pointing over to a slightly curved dagger.
"It's perfect" Kaela exclaimed, noticing how the light could the edge of the blade.
"You appear very skilled for your age. May I see the rest of your work?" Kaela inquired, leaving Gendry taken aback by the compliment.
"My best results are from armour. Helmets, especially. Here..." Gendry trailed off, leading her further inside the stone building.
She looked over half a dozen helmets Gendry had created, not one crack or dent to be seen. He was clearly talented. The helmets were all fashioned to appear as a different animal, from bulls and dragons to stags...
Kaela noticed the flames that reflected off the stag helmet, her headache returning at once, as did the smoke that filled her lungs. She rubbed uncomfortably at her throat, turning to Gendry to excuse herself, as their eyes met. And then she saw it.
Robert Baratheon.
There was no coldness in Gendry's eyes like there was in the King's. But the resemblance was as clear as day. His dark hair, broad shoulders, strong features...she could imagine he was the spitting image of his father years before the King had turned to wine. She stumbled back a pace, feeling bile claw up her throat as she realised who she was standing in front of. The son of the man who killed her mother.
Kaela quickly pushed the ugly thought down, reminding herself the boy in front of her could not be blamed for the sins of the King. He was likely not even born when her mother was slain. But why did the Lord of Light lead her to him?
"Are you unwell?" Gendry frowned, noticing her strange behaviour.
"Did you know your mother?" Kaela blurted out, her mouth running away from her.
Gendry blinked a few times, his forehead wrinkling as he debated how to answer her question.
"My apologies. I have all the subtlety of one of the bulls you have fashioned your helmets after. I only ask as...I am an orphan myself. Growing up around so many noble ladies, I find it rare to speak with one who could understand my situation" Kaela explained, as Gendry's eyes softened.
"She died when I was little. She had yellow hair. Used to sing to me. I don't have many other memories of her" Gendry admitted, as Kaela gave a slow nod.
"Do you have many memories of your mother?" Gendry inquired, watching as Kaela went deathly still.
"...No. She died when I was a babe. I don't...I don't have any memories of her. Not one. I don't even know who my father was" Kaela confessed, biting the inside of her cheek, as she felt her eyes beginning to sting.
"It's the same for me. Someone passing through, I s'pose" Gendry mumbled, with downcast eyes.
Maybe it was better than he didn't know. Ignorance was bliss, after all. Kaela wondered if she ever was to find out the truth of who her father was, whether she would say the same. With a shake of her head, she walked back toward the blade that Gendry had pointed out.
"I'm sorry. I did not mean to bring up any painful memories" Kaela suggested, reaching out to take hold of the dagger.
"It's fine, my Lady. You're not the first to ask about my mother. Lord Arryn came here a few times before he..." Gendry trailed off, as Kaela's brow furrowed.
"The former Hand of the King?" Kaela tried to clarify.
"To tell the truth, I thought that might have been why you came here. I don't know why he was so interested" Gendry stated.
"How odd" Kaela murmured, a bad feeling settling in her gut.
Did Lord Arryn know the truth about Gendry's parentage? What if he had been killed over such knowledge? But who would have the power, the opportunity to murder the Hand of the King?
"Will it do?" Gendry asked, gesturing to the blade she was still holding.
"It will do nicely. Thank you" Kaela nodded, her thoughts elsewhere.
"You've been spotted, brother" Tyrion announced, quickening his pace to keep up with Jaime's long strides as they walked through the Palace gardens.
"Protecting the realm?" Jaime asked, sardonically.
"Visiting the Stark's handmaiden" Tyrion answered, watching as Jaime's smirk instantly fell.
"She has a certain fascination about me. That is all" Jaime responded.
"Then why is it you are the one who sought her out? At the Red Temple ruins? An odd place for such an encounter" Tyrion murmured, watching smugly as Jaime's footsteps faltered.
"...There is none closer to Stark's daughter than her handmaiden. She knows far more than she appears to. Do not fret Tyrion, I am thinking with my head, no other body part" Jaime huffed, after regaining his composure.
"A shame. I was all but overjoyed to see your affections being placed on someone other than our dear sister" Tyrion pointed out, as Jaime shot him a warning look.
They rarely spoke of his relations with Cersei, and certainly not so openly. Whenever Tyrion tried to broach the subject, Jaime would flee, an uncomfortable knot forming in his stomach. There was something about speaking the words to another that made it all feel so...wrong. He hated that feeling.
"I assure you, any affections are merely tactical" Jaime insisted.
"Ah, I see. Are those tactics perhaps something you've learnt from the girl in question?" Tyrion asked, as Jaime's brow furrowed.
"Enough riddles" Jaime scoffed.
"I wrote to father. I thought he'd be glad to see I had returned to King's Landing as he had requested. So, imagine my surprise when he returned a raven stating he had no idea what I was talking about. You wrote that letter warning me away from my journey to the Wall. Clever. A little too clever for you" Tyrion explained.
"And stranding yourself in the middle of nowhere with bastards and murderers, was that smart, little brother?" Jaime retorted.
"Most likely not. But I still intend to find out" Tyrion smirked, as Jaime shook his head, vehemently.
"This is madness. Why are you so intent on journeying to the Wall of all places?" Jaime cried.
"I want to piss off the edge of the world. And leave this rotten city for a time. This is where madness truly lies" Tyrion muttered.
"You will not receive my blessing if that is what you seek" Jaime told him, a scowl growing on his features.
He loved his brother. Perhaps more than anyone else in the world. He had spent his whole life trying to protect him, from his sister, his father...and now it seemed the whole world. But as they had grown, what could he do? He didn't want his little brother to resent him as the rest of King's Landing did. He needed Tyrion's love.
"I expected as much. No, it is the Stark handmaiden I wanted to talk about. Who is she?" Tyrion inquired, staring up at his brother, trying to decipher the truth from his face.
"No one" Jaime replied, only making Tyrion's curiosity grow.
"You wouldn't risk so much for a peasant girl, Jaime" Tyrion pointed out.
"And what is it that I'm risking?" Jaime huffed.
"If Cersei finds out that you've been trailing after the girl, what do you think she will do?" Tyrion pushed, as Jaime's face paled at the thought.
"Stay away from her, brother" Tyrion advised.
"...I cannot" Jaime mumbled, surprising Tyrion.
There had always been something odd about the girl. Some parts of her story didn't fit. But now Tyrion was sure of it. She was more than just a peasant girl from Volantis.
"And why not?" Tyrion gaped.
"I made a promise" Jaime sighed, with a haunted look.
Jaime's mood had remained sour for the rest of the day, his mind distracted even with a sword in his hand while training for the tourney. He had almost allowed himself to be bested by lesser men, something which he could not allow to happen in the coming days. He was already ridiculed enough by the noblemen and ladies of the court. On his return to his chambers, he immediately made his way to a wine decanter, wanting desperately to take the edge off his nerves. A chill ran down his spine as he noticed all his windows had been left open, the cold night air seeping into his chambers. With a shake of his head, he poured the wine into his goblet, planning to find out which servant had wanted him to freeze to death that eve.
"Do you always drink this late at night?" A familiar voice called out, as Jaime's spare hand instantly went to his sword, unsheathing it and holding it out toward what he assumed was an attacker.
"Gods, what are you doing here?" Jaime gaped, spotting Kaela lounging on one of his feathered chairs in the corner of the room.
"I wished to speak with you" Kaela retorted, simply.
"So, you sneak into my chambers in the dead of night and wait in the dark for my return?" Jaime huffed, sheathing his sword, and turning back to his wine, needing it more than ever.
"I could not afford to have my words listened to by the spies of this city" Kaela murmured, as Jaime's forehead wrinkled.
"What happened?" Jaime asked, his voice sounding a little more concerned than he would have liked.
"I met Robert's bastard son today" Kaela announced, watching as Jaime's eyes almost popped right out of his skull.
"You truly did not know of his existence then" Kaela mumbled, a moment later.
"And I would have preferred it to stay that way. I cannot say I am surprised however; Robert has whored his way through much of this city" Jaime spat out, taking a sip of his wine, this disgust clear on his face.
"Then I doubt this bastard is the only one. Or the only one the former Hand of the King knew of" Kaela pointed out, as Jaime's frown deepened.
"Lord Arryn knew of this boy?" Jaime tried to clarify, as Kaela nodded.
"The resemblance to Robert is rather striking. Especially compared to your children" Kaela stated, watching as Jaime grew still.
"Do not call them that" Jaime mumbled, taking another sip of his wine.
"Should I call them your bastards instead?" Kaela suggested, quirking an eyebrow.
"I've never been a father to those children" Jaime said, running a hand over his face, as he leaned against the dining table behind him.
"...Why not?" Kaela couldn't help but ask.
"Because they would be killed. Robert would have them burnt alive, just as he did with your mother" Jaime retorted, harshly.
"So, you stay away? Let them grow up with nothing but a drunken fool as a father instead?" Kaela pushed.
"At least they are alive" Jaime murmured, as Kaela's eyes softened.
"Myrcella's sweet enough. As is Tommen. Joffrey...perhaps he was dropped on his head as a babe?" Kaela exclaimed as Jaime's lips twitched into the slightest of smiles.
"Out of all of them...he is the most alike Cersei and I" Jaime sighed.
"No. He's not" Kaela insisted, in a soft tone.
Jaime was a lot of things, but as far as she had seen, he wasn't cruel. Not like Joffrey. Though Jaime did not like to admit it, she expected Joffrey had inherited his mother's viciousness. Her bitterness.
"Am I like my mother?" Kaela blurted out, before her mind caught up with her.
Jaime pursed his lips, his brow furrowing as he debated how to answer her question. He had honestly expected it to come up earlier. He felt thankful for his own few memories of his mother.
"She was...very sweet. Most of the time. Though she had the Targaryen fire. That's what Rhaegar would say at least. There were rumours she once had wildfire thrown over a raper who had hurt one of her handmaidens. I must confess, I rarely spoke to her. By the time I was made a member of the Kingsguard, Aerys would not let anyone so much as look at her" Jaime explained, trying to read Kaela's shadowy face.
"She spent most of her life locked up by one madman, only to be killed by another" Kaela mumbled.
Jaime looked down at his goblet, half full of wine, before he strode toward her, handing out the wine like an olive branch. He thought she needed it more than him at that moment.
"Arryn would have worked out the truth of you and Cersei. I imagine that's what got him killed" Kaela stated, taking the goblet from his hand and taking a long sip.
"My sister played no part," Jaime told her.
"Can you be sure of that?" Kaela questioned.
"I would know. We have no secrets from each other" Jaime insisted, as Kaela opened her mouth, but quickly clamped her lips shut.
"Then who else would have reason to kill him?" She mused.
"Why the sudden interest?" Jaime frowned, as she bit at her bottom lip for a moment.
"...The vision I saw in the ruins. It was of Robert's bastard. R'hllor led me to the boy. But I don't know why" Kaela admitted, as a huff of laughter left Jaime's lips.
"I still do not believe in this God of yours and these visions. Perhaps you merely see what you want to see" Jaime told her, as she stood up from her chair.
"I want to see Robert's head on a spike, yet it has not appeared to me" Kaela muttered, bringing the goblet back to her lips and finishing the wine.
"Soon. Cersei has broached the subject of him entering the tourney. She tells him how foolish it would be, how it would not be expected of him anymore...Cersei knows how to twist his thoughts" Jaime stated, as Kaela couldn't help but think it was true of him too.
"I hear you will be entering the tourney too?" Kaela inquired, as Jaime gave a nod.
"As is expected of me as part of the Kingsguard" Jaime replied.
"Do you plan to win?" Kaela asked, with a teasing smirk.
"Ah. I assume you speak of Joffrey's name day tourney" Jaime murmured, with disdain.
"The one where the Knight of Flowers bested you? Yes, it had crossed my mind" Kaela mocked, as Jaime shook his head, ruefully.
"Tyrell is a known cheater" Jaime pointed out.
"And how exactly did he cheat against you?" Kaela pushed, as Jaime pursed his lips.
"...With subtlety" Jaime responded, as Kaela couldn't help but laugh.
She continued snickering at Jaime's look of annoyance, expecting that Tyrell had actually won the joust fair and square. Jaime's irritation only grew as he felt his lips turning up into a smile at the sound of laughter, finding it a surprisingly pleasant sound. He couldn't remember the last time Cersei laughed.
"Well, I shall pray for your victory come the morn, Ser Jaime" Kaela teased, with flushed cheeks.
"Perhaps you will gift me with your favour as well?" Jaime exclaimed, leaving Kaela taken aback.
"A handmaiden's favour will do little for you at the tourney" Kaela huffed.
"Ah, but a Princess's favour will" Jaime smirked, as a smile graced Kaela's lips, despite herself.
"I have nothing to give" Kaela shrugged, as Jaime's eyes lowered to the ribbon tied around the waist of her dress.
"It is not very extravagant" Kaela murmured, looking down to where his gaze lay.
"I will have to make do" Jaime replied, as Kaela reluctantly began to undo the red ribbon, pulling it away from her dress.
"Then I bid you good favour, Ser" Kaela grinned, holding out the ribbon to him.
Kaela couldn't help but be amazed at how quickly the pavilions had been raised by the riverside, now crowded with thousands of peasants from all around the realm. Kaela felt lucky to be allowed to sit in a row full of noblemen and women, having to remember her place as Arya's chaperone. Septa Mordane was the only other member of the Stark's servants in attendance, meaning that both Arya and Sansa were more vulnerable than ever. For whatever reason, Ned had chosen not to be in attendance for his own tourney, something that had clearly irritated the King.
"It's better than the songs" Sansa mumbled, dreamily from beside her.
Kaela supposed she could understand Sansa's wonderment. From the cheering of the crowds, the way the banners whipped around in the wind and the glittering armour the knights wore, it was something to behold. If she was—
"You have the Tully look" A voice announced, from further down the row, their words pointed to Sansa.
Kaela's heart came to a grinding halt as Petyr Baelish's sharp eyes came into view, fear clawing away at her instantly. She still didn't understand what she had seen her first day in the capital, but whatever the man's intentions were, Kaela expected it would lead to nothing good.
"I'm sorry. Do I...?" Sansa trailed off, as Petyr came to sit beside her.
"Sansa dear, this is Lord Baelish. He's known—" Septa Mordane began, as Baelish cut her off.
"An old friend of the family. Your mother was my queen of beauty once. You have her hair" Petyr stated, reaching out to curl one of her auburn locks around his finger.
"You should not presume to touch a Lady, my Lord. It is bad manners" Kaela spoke up, restraining herself from grabbing the older man's arm and dragging him away from Sansa.
"Kaela! You cannot speak to a Lord in such a way!" Septa Mordane scolded.
"It is quite alright. I am used to the Stark's bite" Petyr smirked, causing Kaela to frown.
She knew it was unwise to draw attention to herself, but the way that Baelish was looking at Sansa was enough to make her skin crawl. Like a predator that had just spotted their next meal. She found herself wishing Sansa's father was there.
"I've been sitting here for days! Start the damn joust before I piss myself!" The King roared, holding his horn goblet out for his servant to refill.
Kaela glanced up to find Cersei retreating from her seat with a scowl, clearly unable to spend another second in the presence of her 'beloved'. Jaime would be disappointed, Kaela thought to herself.
"Gods, who is that?" Sansa gaped, as the first challengers took to the stage.
"Ser Gregor Clegane. They call him the Mountain. The Hound's older brother" Petyr exclaimed, as the man in question came thundering past them like an avalanche.
"And his opponent?" Sansa inquired.
"Ser Hugh of the Vale. He was Jon Arryn's squire. Look how far he's come" Petyr informed her.
"Very expensive armour for someone who was only a squire a few months ago" Kaela mumbled under her breath; eyes narrowed as Hugh's nervous face came into view.
"Perhaps Lord Arryn left him some money" Petyr suggested, sparing a quick glance at her once more.
Kaela could hardly hide her grimace at his words, deciding she would not open her lips again in the man's presence. If the man truly was a skinchanger, he was likely the most dangerous man in the entire city. And if he wasn't...then did that mean someone else was in control of the man's actions
"Yes, yes. Enough of the bloody pomp. Have at it!" Robert cried, dismissing the pair.
The joust was over in a matter of minutes, with the Hound's lance riding up to strike the young knight under the gorget with such force it drove through his throat, almost decapitating him. The knight fell to the ground close to where they were seated, as the man's blood spurted out of his neck, staining his polished armour. Sansa had let out a loud cry but refused to make a scene, knowing what was expected of a Lady. Kaela turned to Arya, expecting to see fear or disgust on her face, but instead, the young girl appeared...fascinated.
"Not what you were expecting?" Petyr whispered to Sansa, who elegantly shook her head.
"Has anyone ever told you the story of the Mountain and the Hound? Lovely little tale of brotherly love. The Hound was just a pup, six years old maybe. Gregor a few years older, already a big lad, and already getting a bit of a reputation. Some lucky boys just born with a talent for violence. One evening, Gregor found his little brother playing with a toy by the fire...Gregor's toy, a wooden knight. Gregor never said a word, he just grabbed his brother by the scruff of his neck and shoved his face into the burning coals. Held him there while the boy screamed, while his face melted" Petyr told them, in a hushed tone.
Kaela couldn't help but glance up at the Hound, his scar somehow seeming even more pronounced now. She pushed down the sympathy she felt for the man, knowing the Hound wouldn't appreciate anyone's pity. But at least Kaela felt she could now understand the man and his hatred for fire.
"There aren't very many people who know that story" Petyr stated.
"I won't tell anyone. I promise" Sansa mumbled, in a shaky voice.
"No, please don't. If the Hound so much as heard you mention it, I'm afraid all the knights in King's Landing would not be able to save you" Petyr warned, as Kaela gave Septa Mordane a pointed look, wanting her to intervene.
Instead, the old woman simply looked away from the scene, knowing it wasn't her place. Kaela didn't share the sentiment, and once again felt the need to strike the lord.
"You're certainly very well versed in scaring little girls, Lord Baelish. What a grand skill to have obtained" Kaela exclaimed, watching as Baelish's jaw clenched.
"Kaela! One more word out of you and I will persuade Lord Stark to have you sent back to Winterfell!" Septa Mordane warned, as Kaela turned to her with a sweet smile.
"Look, it's the Kingslayer!" Arya's voice interrupted, pointing to Jaime who was wearing gold from head to toe.
Arya gave Kaela a slight smirk as all heads turned to the next joust, having successfully pulled the attention away from a thankful Kaela. Jaime's white cloak whipped around in the wind, contrasting starkly with his golden lion helm. He would fight against Lord Byrce Caron, who appeared to be shaking from the way his lance trembled in his hands. As the pair came to a stop in front of the King, Kaela could see how Jaime's eyes lingered on the empty chair beside him. He appeared to swallow his disappointment down, turning his horse to begin galloping to the other end of the field. His eyes caught Kaela's on the way, who was clapping the pair on just as the rest of the crowd was. Luckily, only Arya appeared to realise he was the first knight she had clapped for. He sent her a subtle nod before pulling his visor down, as a smile grew once more on Kaela's lips. Her veins buzzed with excitement, having truly been waiting all morning for his joust.
"Is that your ribbon on the Kingslayer's lance, Kaela?" Sansa's scandalised voice questioned, as all eyes returned to her once more.
Kaela's eyes followed the girl's gaze, finding Jaime had wrapped the red ribbon around his lance, now on display to the thousands. How exactly Sansa had realised it was hers, Kaela truly didn't know.
"I think not, my Lady. Many would have such a ribbon" Kaela responded.
"But you're missing the ribbon from your dress?" Sansa pointed out, as Kaela grit her teeth, praying the girl would drop the subject.
"My, my. The Lion and the Handmaiden. Now, that sounds like a tale I would like to hear" Petyr announced, as Kaela's face paled.
How much worse were things going to get?