- 286th Year After the Conquest -
Jaime trekked along the kingsroad, his horse's hooves crunching through the dirt. His eyes scanned the looming heights of Casterly Rock, a sight both familiar and distant.
The feint memories of his childhood came rushing back like a torrent, overwhelming him with a bittersweet mixture of nostalgia and longing. He smiled as he thought of his mother, of his wedding years later, and the birth of his son.
It had been years since he last laid eyes on the area around him. His time and presence had been firmly bound to the Mad King, then to his sister, and finally to guarding the oaf who sat on the Iron Throne. The man who deigned to call himself king whenever he pleased. It was a courageous thing indeed to be allowed to venture to the Westerlands again.
His Grace had been nigh on convinced to say no when his sister opposed his request, but thankfully Robert allowed it, provided he returned within three moons. The reason for his journey was simple yet heartfelt: his little brother was approaching his thirteenth name day, and Jaime wished to spend it with him.
Perhaps they could take a ride through the woods or visit Lannisport, should their father grant it. He also longed to see his wife and Erwin, who must be around four or five by now.
Jaime breathed deeply as he approached the Lion's Mouth, the main entryway into the castle. It was one of only two, the other being the port on the western side of the mountain. Casterly Rock was impregnable by land or sea, never taken by force. Jaime would even wager that it could withstand fire, had King Loren not bent the knee to Aegon and his two sisters. The walls were thick, and its granaries in the lower depths could feed thousands of people for years if ever under siege.
"Jaime?" a voice called out, breaking his reverie. Jaime looked up and smiled upon seeing his young uncle, Gerion Lannister. Gerion was the youngest son of Jaime's grandfather, Tytos Lannister.
Jaime dismounted his horse and ran to embrace his favorite uncle. "Gods, you're not wearing that awful white cloak. Does that mean His Grace let you leave?"
"No, I'm afraid not," Jaime replied, a hint of sadness in his voice. "I am simply homesick. I asked for a short leave, and he allowed it." They were at peace, after all. The King did not need all his Kingsguard by his side. Recently, two new members had been brought in: Ser Meryn Trant and Ser Borros Blount.
Gerion patted Jaime on the shoulder. "Well, go on inside then. Your father is no doubt expecting you."
"Where are you going?" Jaime asked with curiosity.
Gerion shrugged nonchalantly. "I got on Tywin's bad side again, so I'm heading to Lannisport."
Parting ways, Jaime continued his way into the Lion's Mouth and the mightiest and most impregnable castle in the realm, feeling a mix of emotions he couldn't quite name. The memories of his childhood and the anticipation of reuniting with his family churned within him somewhat as he walked in and handed his horse to a stablehand.
His first urge was to find his son and wife, he had a package in his personal belongings and he pulled out a wooden knight. "Children love knights," he whispered and then was reminded he should go to his father first.
So, he started making his way up the staircase leading to the upper levels, the former royal quarters for the Kings of the Rock. He remembered chasing his sister down them, playing Come into my Castle or simple games of chase.
His father's chambers, the Lord's solar was one of the larger rooms looking out to the Sunset Sea.
A guard was at the door and he gestured for the man to step aside, he knocked twice and entered the room. Jaime looked over to the desk and saw his father with his quill in his hands, his uncle Kevan forever his father's shadow was standing close.
"Father?"
Tywin set down his quill and looked up, "Jaime, welcome home," Kevan said and walked over to embrace him.
"I must confess my disappointment in your raven, I assumed His Grace had finally released you of those ridiculous vows." there was a time he wished for just that but the years had changed his illusions.
Tywin rose up and approached him, "I wonder why you've come home, doesn't your duties not belong to the side of the royals?"
"I missed home and was allowed to return, we are at peace now," he mentioned and the Lord Lannister scoffed at what he said.
"The embers of war still burn as it has only been two years since Viserys and Daenerys were whisked away to Essos. Dorne had only just been calmed." and yet the King still has support from five of the seven regions, and his sister already gave His Grace a son and recently a daughter.
Tywin inspected him and sighed, stepping back and turning to Kevan. "Have the steward prepare a dinner, grand for Jaime's return."
"And Tyrion's name day feast, right, Father?" he mentioned and the mention of his brother's special day caused his father to show little sign of interest. "Supper would be nice, anyhow, I've been riding for days and in need of a bath and cleaner clothes."
"Lady Leyla and Erwin are at the Stone Garden, if you wish to see them."
He does but for some reason, he is afraid to do so...
As Jaime left to make himself presentable, Leyla Hightower sat within the eerie embrace of the Stone Garden, watching her son and his little uncle practice their tumbling skills. The gnarled and twisted weirwood trees around them cast intimidating shadows, but Leyla found solace in this secluded spot, away from Tywin's ire whenever he saw Tyrion teaching Erwin.
The sound of approaching footsteps broke the tranquility, and Leyla turned to see her sister, Lynesse, drawing near. At fourteen, Lynesse had blossomed into a beautiful young woman with long, pale golden hair, skin the color of cream, and delicate hands that often joined Leyla's in prayer to the Seven Gods.
"How is my sweet nephew?" Lynesse cooed, patting Erwin on the head. Her son beamed with joy and hugged his aunt. Leyla watched as Lynesse turned to Tyrion, Tywin's youngest son. "Lord Imp," she teased, her tone a blend of affection and mockery.
Tyrion smirked, unfazed by her words. "Your cruel words can't hurt me today, Lynesse. I am ten and three, and just a few short years away from manhood," he retorted, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
Leyla felt a sigh of exasperation building within her. She had grown weary of the constant rivalry between her good brother and sister. "Enough, both of you," she said gently, but firmly. "Lynesse, did you bring us news?" Leyla asked, her voice tinged with anticipation. Her sister blushed shyly, her hands nervously playing with the hem of her dress.
"Yes, your husband is home. He returned an hour ago, and Ser Kevan bade me come to tell you," Lynesse replied. She then turned to stick her tongue out at Tyrion, who laughed and tumbled to the side, causing Erwin to burst into a fit of giggles.
The news made Leyla's heart leap with joy. She rose with a radiant smile, feeling a surge of warmth spread through her chest. "Come, Erwin, your father is here." She strolled over, scooped up her boy, and left the garden, her sister and Tyrion following closely behind.
As Leyla walked as quickly as her feet could carry her, Erwin nestled against her breast, his small hands clutching at her dress. Her mind drifted back to the years spent away from her dear husband, and now he was finally home. Her skin tingled with anticipation, each step bringing her closer to the moment she had longed for. She had been celibate all these years, doing what she could on her own, and now she would feel his touch again.
The years had been hard, knowing he remained a member of the Kingsguard. It hurt, but she understood he had no choice. "Only the King can relieve a member of the order of white cloaks," she had said to Genna when the raven came. For that reason alone, she resented His Grace, despite never having met him.
She had heard tales of Robert Baratheon—more beast than man, a true stag and a demon on the battlefield, capable of defeating Rhaegar the Last Dragon. Leyla had met Rhaegar during one of her few trips to the Capital with her kin.
Leyla stopped short of the door leading to their former chambers, now her chambers alone for the past few years. The wooden door seemed to loom before her, a barrier between her past and her future. "Something wrong, Leyla?" Tyrion asked, noticing her hesitation.
Leyla was loath to admit she was afraid. Afraid that Jaime had lost his love for her, that he had become ensnared by his honored duty only to be freed now. Her mind raced with doubts, each one a whisper of uncertainty that tugged at her heart.
Summoning her courage, she knocked thrice on the door and opened it. The setting sun bathed the room in an orange glow, casting a warm, ethereal light. There, sitting on the bed, was her husband, Jaime, his golden hair catching the light like a halo.
"... Jaime."
Jaime was just finishing getting dressed when his chamber door opened. He saw Leyla standing there, her fiery sister Lynesse beside her, and his little brother who ran towards him. "Jaime!" Tyrion exclaimed. Jaime knelt and picked up Tyrion, spinning him twice before setting him down.
His green eyes met Leyla's, and he approached slowly. "Leyla," he whispered, the sound of her name on his lips feeling both familiar and strange.
Leyla looked as beautiful as the day they were wed. Her hair was longer now, styled fittingly for a Lady of the Westerlands. She still wore green, the colors of her House, though golden lions were now sewn onto her dress.
His gaze shifted to her breast, where she held a boy with shoulder-length blonde hair, looking at him with the same green eyes. "Erwin," Jaime called, and the lad tilted his head, hearing his name from a stranger.
"Son, this is your father," Leyla said, stepping closer until they were inches apart. "Sister, Tyrion, can you both give us a moment?" Lynesse trailed out of the chamber, and Tyrion reluctantly followed.
When the door clicked shut, Leyla placed a gentle kiss on Jaime's lips, but he tensed and held her at bay. She looked at him, surprised.
Before she could speak, Jaime turned and retrieved a toy—a wooden knight painted in the red and gold of House Lannister. "Here, son, I missed your last name day, so I got this for you." Erwin hesitated but eventually took it.
"You are home now, so you will be here for his next name day," Leyla said, feeling certain. But Jaime's frown deepened. "Aren't you?" she questioned, a pit forming in her stomach.
She took a deep breath and walked to the hearth, setting Erwin on the floor to play with his new toy. Turning back to Jaime, she whispered, "I thought you were released from your vows."
Jaime was silent, muttering, "I wish I was."
"Then why not? You were pressured to be a Kingsguard for an entirely different King. You shouldn't have been made to guard Robert," she argued quietly, tears forming in her eyes.
"You don't understand," Jaime replied.
"Then help me, Jaime, for I have been alone for years." She strolled towards him, gripping his doublet and kissing his neck. "I want you, I missed you. Do you not see that?"
"I am sworn to my vows, Leyla. I cannot." He pushed her away. "Robert is cruel to my sister. It is why I have remained a Kingsguard—to protect her from his abuses."
Heartbroken, Leyla felt her heart shatter into a million pieces. "Your sister is quite capable, Jaime. I must know, in the short time I lived with her when that war started." she huffed as the emotions stirred, "She was just as abusive to the people here- "
"Don't speak of her that way," he said sharply. It was strange how he defended her. She was his Queen, but also a cruel woman who bullied Tyrion and terrorized the servants of Casterly Rock.
Like how she treated that girl who stole a bracelet—Cersei barely wore it, but she had the girl whipped bloody all the same.
"Then if honor and vows and your sister mean so much to you, tell me, why have you even come home? Why taunt me with your presence and knowing we cannot be together?" Leyla's voice trembled with a mixture of anger and anguish.
Jaime didn't answer for a long time. She felt an overwhelming urge to hit him, to curse him, to hate him. Maybe she still would. Finally, he spoke, "I came here to see my family, again, that is all." He exited the chamber, leaving Leyla standing there, her heart-shattering.
As the door closed behind him, she allowed herself to crumble to the ground, the weight of her sorrow dragging her down. Tears flowed freely, soaking into the carpet. Each sob wracked her body, a release of years of pent-up longing and frustration.
Through her tears, she felt a small, gentle finger touch the wetness on her cheek. She opened her eyes to see Erwin, his innocent face etched with concern. "Mama crying?" he asked softly.
Leyla forced a smile, wanting to reassure him. "Come here, Erwin." Her son embraced her, his little arms offering a warmth and comfort that only a child's love could bring. In that moment, she realized he was the only solace she would have in a world where her husband was bound to a cruel Queen and a Rebel King.
She held Erwin close, feeling the steady beat of his heart against her own. Her mind raced with thoughts of Jaime, torn between duty and love. The ache in her heart was a constant reminder of the life they should have had together.
As the sun began to set, casting a golden glow through the window, Leyla whispered to herself, "I will endure this... I must."