Part 2: A Rose for Lions - Jaime
Jaime
Robert Baratheon knelt before the King. Being a prisoner agreed with him, it seemed. In the five years he had spent in captivity at King's Landing, he had gained enough weight to live up to his reputation as Robert the Fat. Gods, thought Jaime. I wonder if he'll starve now that he's being released.
"Robert Baratheon, Lord of Storm's End, do you swear fealty to the Iron Throne and the King who sits it, Rhaegar Targaryen, the First of His Name, now and forever?" thundered Tywin Lannister through the Great Hall. On the throne itself, Rhaeger looked positively regal, sitting as though the throne was a collection of cushions, he wore the thin band of a crown first worn by Aegon III. The Iron Throne, made from the melted down swords of Aegon's enemies, had been known to cut those considered unworthy to sit it, and the gods knew Aerys had not been comfortable sitting in it, but if the melted sword points and blades put Rhaegar ill at ease, Jaime could not tell.
"I so swear," intoned Baratheon.
Tywin nodded. Jaime's father had fared well since being appointed Hand. In celebration, he had held a tournament at Casterly Rock. The King had traveled to attend it. Ryman Frey, the Lord of the Twins, and old Bloodless Walter's heir, had won.
Lord Ryman had broken three lances in a joust with one of the King's loyal knights, Ser Alliser Thorne, a hard and unforgiving man, and when the two men turned their horses for the fourth pass, the crowd had been on the edges of their seats. Jaime had been afraid that the former rebel lords would turn on the loyalists should the points go against the Frey lord, but Lord Ryman knocked Ser Alliser to the sand. The King himself had declared Lord Ryman the valiant winner, and invited both Frey and Thorne to join him and Tywin at his feast table that night, to put old enmity behind them.
Jaime sometimes could not fathom the changes that had occurred in his father. Though he could still be as rigid a man as ever, especially where Tyrion was concerned, Tywin seemed to have some small joy in his life that would occasionally break through the cracks and bring a smile to his face. Jaime often encountered his young brother, Tybolt, wandering through the halls of King's Landing. He'd heard that Lady Pruella was even pregnant again.
Jaime was not sure how he felt about his father's wife, given that she was two years younger than Jaime and Cersei, but she seemed to drive his father to great lengths of devotion. He bought her jewelry and fine clothes, and tolerated her whims. One year she had attempted to take up painting, and Tywin had paid for it, though the expense for a teacher was high, and her talent not very great.
When Maester Gawen had died, Tywin had sent to the Citadel for one trained in delivering children. True, Maester Podrick had delivered more foals than newborn children, but he had assured the Hand that the mechanics involved were quite similar. When Tyrion had come to visit, he and Jaime had shared a laugh about it.
King Rhaegar stood, drawing Jaime back into the matter at hand.
"Robert Baratheon, we hereby declare you as a free man, to travel where you wish to go, when you wish to do so."
"Thank you, your Grace," said Robert.
"We would, however, appreciate it if you would remain in King's Landing for some time more," said Rhaegar. "We would ask you to serve as Master-at-Arms, and train the youth of the court in the nature of war."
"It would be an honor, your Grace," said Robert.
Well, at least he doesn't have to worry about going hungry, thought Jaime.
After Robert's ceremony Jaime's father cornered him as he walked back to White Sword Tower.
"Your brother is to be married to Margaery Tyrell soon," said Tywin.
"So I've heard," replied Jaime.
"You will join us?"
"Unless my King requires that I stay with him, I would not miss it. I'm sure Tyrion will be overjoyed at it."
"He detests the arrangement, but understands that there are certain requirements to being my heir. It is good you are coming. We will need good men in the Westerlands soon."
"It's a wedding, father," said Jaime. "Not a war."
Tywin merely smiled.
"We shall see," he said.
Part 2: A Rose for Lions
Jaime
Robert Baratheon knelt before the King. Being a prisoner agreed with him, it seemed. In the five years he had spent in captivity at King's Landing, he had gained enough weight to live up to his reputation as Robert the Fat. Gods, thought Jaime. I wonder if he'll starve now that he's being released.
"Robert Baratheon, Lord of Storm's End, do you swear fealty to the Iron Throne and the King who sits it, Rhaegar Targaryen, the First of His Name, now and forever?" thundered Tywin Lannister through the Great Hall. On the throne itself, Rhaeger looked positively regal, sitting as though the throne was a collection of cushions, he wore the thin band of a crown first worn by Aegon III. The Iron Throne, made from the melted down swords of Aegon's enemies, had been known to cut those considered unworthy to sit it, and the gods knew Aerys had not been comfortable sitting in it, but if the melted sword points and blades put Rhaegar ill at ease, Jaime could not tell.
"I so swear," intoned Baratheon.
Tywin nodded. Jaime's father had fared well since being appointed Hand. In celebration, he had held a tournament at Casterly Rock. The King had traveled to attend it. Ryman Frey, the Lord of the Twins, and old Bloodless Walter's heir, had won.
Lord Ryman had broken three lances in a joust with one of the King's loyal knights, Ser Alliser Thorne, a hard and unforgiving man, and when the two men turned their horses for the fourth pass, the crowd had been on the edges of their seats. Jaime had been afraid that the former rebel lords would turn on the loyalists should the points go against the Frey lord, but Lord Ryman knocked Ser Alliser to the sand. The King himself had declared Lord Ryman the valiant winner, and invited both Frey and Thorne to join him and Tywin at his feast table that night, to put old enmity behind them.
Jaime sometimes could not fathom the changes that had occurred in his father. Though he could still be as rigid a man as ever, especially where Tyrion was concerned, Tywin seemed to have some small joy in his life that would occasionally break through the cracks and bring a smile to his face. Jaime often encountered his young brother, Tybolt, wandering through the halls of King's Landing. He'd heard that Lady Pruella was even pregnant again.
"Robert Baratheon, we hereby declare you as a free man, to travel where you wish to go, when you wish to do so."
"Thank you, your Grace," said Robert.
"We would, however, appreciate it if you would remain in King's Landing for some time more," said Rhaegar. "We would ask you to serve as Master-at-Arms, and train the youth of the court in the nature of war."
"It would be an honor, your Grace," said Robert.
Well, at least he doesn't have to worry about going hungry, thought Jaime.
***
After Robert's ceremony Jaime's father cornered him as he walked back to White Sword Tower.
"Your brother is to be married to Margaery Tyrell soon," said Tywin.
"So I've heard," replied Jaime.
"You will join us?"
"Unless my King requires that I stay with him, I would not miss it. I'm sure Tyrion will be overjoyed at it."
"He detests the arrangement, but understands that there are certain requirements to being my heir. It is good you are coming. We will need good men in the Westerlands soon."
"It's a wedding, father," said Jaime. "Not a war."
Tywin merely smiled.
"We shall see," he said.
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