36 A Dragon and A Lion

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The Following EIGHT Chapters are already available for Patrons.

Chapter 37 (The Kingslayer), Chapter 38 (The Bastard Prince), Chapter 39 (The Dragon vs The Mountain), Chapter 40 (A Plan and Traitors), Chapter 41 (An Alliance), Chapter 42 (A Flower in The Garden), Chapter 43 (The Melee), and Chapter 44 (Leaving Highgarden) are already available for Patrons.

Jaime Lannister

After arriving at Highgarden, he had to endure his sister complaining about what Lord Willas said to her precious Joffrey. Despite being behind the door, he still could hear clearly, and it was not like she was trying to be discreet about it.

Thankfully the King was inside as well, so Jaime wasn't the only one suffering because of her voice.

"How dare that cripple insult my Joffrey. He's the crown prince. I can have them removed as Lord Paramount whenever I want!" Cersei screeched; Jaime rubbed his ears, hoping that it would help with the noise; luckily for Barristan, he wasn't around and enjoyed the screams from the Queen.

Surprisingly this time, Robert was the voice of reason, which rarely happened.

Now, after his dear sister calmed down somehow, after drinking a couple of cups of wine and throwing several vases on the wall, shattering them to pieces, Jaime could only hope she wasn't going to do something stupid.

When Arys came to take over his post for the rest of the day, Jaime thanked the seven. Now he had the rest of the day for himself; his thoughts quickly went to the set of purple eyes he saw at the Courtyard; he had seen them only for a few seconds, but he had memorized them, and they were Rhaenys's eyes. He still remembered her eyes, they were rich purple, and sometimes it felt as if they would start shining like jewelry, and the boy he had seen had the same eyes.

Am I losing it? Jaime thought, shaking his head slightly; it had been years, over a decade, perhaps he was still chasing ghosts, but he quickly dismissed the thought; even if there was no child between Prince Rhaegar and Lyanna, Jaime knew his former brother was here.

Oberyn had arrived, he saw no reason to believe that Arthur hadn't accompanied him, and if he was, Jaime wanted answers from him. Why hasn't he been at the Battle of The Trident? Jaime was convicted beyond doubt that if Arthur had been there, they would have had a different King on the Throne, one Jaime would happily serve as Kingsguard, not a fat man who was slowly decaying like a dead animal. Jaime knew with him on the Iron Throne. The Realm would flourish.

Jaime arrived at his bedchamber that House Tyrell had chosen for the Kingsguards; the Kingslayer took a bath; he felt relived and had time to think as he washed himself; taking a bath was one of the few moments of his life when he could think freely and in absolute silence.

As he washed his fingertips, he thought back at the boy, the Kingslayer knew he hadn't been close enough to get a good look at his face, and not the time, but he had noticed the curly dark hair, skin like a Northern, and the purple eyes.

Fuck my luck, Jaime cursed under his breath; taking a deep breath, he decided not to bother himself right now; he could probably get a better look at him once the feast started; he had no doubts he would be there.

Once the feast started, Jaime knew four other kingsguards would watch over the Royal Family, leaving him free to look at the guests.

Should I tell Ser Barristan? Jaime thought out loud but quickly dismissed the thought. First, he wanted to be one hundred percent certain that he wasn't losing his mind before telling his commander anything. He didn't want to give him false hope; that would be cruel of him.

It was at times like this when he wished that he had spies everywhere like Varys. It had been seven years since the Spymaster had disappeared from the face of the earth. Several guards had checked his bedchamber many times but found nothing, his clothes and belongings were still there, so it was quite confusing that the man himself wasn't there.

Jaime hadn't really shed tears for him, no one did, but it took three years for them to find a replacement, someone who wasn't really that good at his job, and Cersei had been the one to propose him as the new spymaster. Jaime was certain his sister was playing her stupid games again.

One thing many servants had mentioned was the foul smell inside Varys's chamber; they said the smell wouldn't go away despite how many times they washed it; the smell had stayed for one year after Varys's disappearance and slowly faded away, but Jaime had recognized the smell, it was the smell of a corpse decaying, yet he couldn't see the corpse anywhere.

Many pointed out that, but no one ever found where the smell came from; some said perhaps some rats were decaying inside the walls.

Later

Leaning against a wall, Jaime eyed the guests like a hawk, not to see if any of them was dangerous to the King, but to find the one he was looking for. He could feel the eyes of many on him, even Ser Barristan, who had asked him if he was doing alright after Jaime had been dead silent for the whole day.

The Kingslayer didn't care if the whole hall was glaring at him; he could tell the ones who had genuine hatred for him; amongst them was House Tarly; Lord Randyll was glaring at the entire Royal Family.

Jaime felt like chuckling and wished he could join him and glare together; from the corner of his eyes, he could see Margaery Tyrell trying to have a conversation with Joffrey, who was busy saying something while glaring at Willas Tyrell.

Poor girl, Jaime thought, feeling bad for her; having a normal conversation with Joffrey was a hard thing to accomplish. And Robert was dead set on marrying Joffrey to Sansa Stark, so lady Margaery was wasting her time.

Cersei looked bored out of her mind, and seeing who was trying to talk to her wasn't really surprising; Mace Tyrell was a known fool, and even in King's Landing, it was talked about his stupidity.

The Queen of Thorns seemed to be the only one who wasn't annoyed. She was eyeing all the guests as she took a sip of tea.

Jaime knew this tourney was a big one, but seeing the number of guests, only now he understood that almost the entire realm had come here. The only very important house missing was House Stark, but Jaime wasn't really surprised about that. They enjoyed the North, and the last time they went south, only one returned.

Jaime's eyes tried to find the Martells; looking around the hall, he heard a squeal; looking at the high table, the king was busy burying his face in the breasts of a poor servant girl; Jaime could tell the girl seemed quite uncomfortable, and the smell of wine and beer coming from the King's mouth could be felt from where he was standing.

Madness and Stupidity, Jaime shook his head, ashamed that he was wearing the white cloak and serving a King like him. A king who looked like a pig wearing fancy clothes. The music and dancers were making a show in the corner of the hall, and jugglers were doing their tricks, but no one was really paying attention to them.

Jaime turned his attention to the far end of the hall; there, he could see Oberyn Martell, his forearm resting against the table, his cheek resting against his palm, his eyes glaring at the King with venom.

Jaime tried to get a better look, but he couldn't from where he was, he was half-convinced to step closer and get a better look, but he didn't want to draw too much attention to himself.

Jaime walked away from the wall, tilting his head to the side; he couldn't see the boy...

He could see Oberyn talking with his lady paramour, and one of his daughters was discussing something with a boy around his mid-twenties.

The Kingslayer cursed his luck; it seemed he needed to try again tomorrow. After several tries, Jaime knew the boy wasn't coming to the feast, and neither was the Princess of Dorne, which was quite surprising for someone of her status.

"The Training Yard in the morning is quite a place to train and meet people!"

Jaime abruptly turned around but couldn't see anyone speaking; looking at the top of a flag spear near him, there was a crow as dark as night; the crow cried at Jaime before it flew away through an open window.

What was that crow doing here? Jaime thought out loud. He had never seen a crow of that color in the South. His attention turned to House Martell; the viper prince was glaring at the King. Jaime thought of perhaps talking with them, but he had no idea what to even say to them when he heard the sound of thunder outside.

Strange! He thought there were almost no clouds; he had no idea where the thunder came from.

The rest of the night went smoothly with no incidents. Jaime went to sleep after the feast, dreaming of a Dragon with a wolf's head.

It was morrow, the fresh air filling his lungs; the servants had just woken up, walking around to do their jobs. Jaime found himself unable to sleep, his dreams hunted by purple eyes and dragons. He could still remember them, Rhaegar looking at him, but he would change; he turned to the boy, his silver hair would turn dark and curly, but his eyes and face, they stayed almost the same.

Knowing he would waste his time shifting around on his bed, The Kingslayer found the training yard of Highgarden, more significant than the training yard of the Red Keep, looking like a square field with his own archery field, jousting field, sword fighting field, and many others.

Once he walked downstairs that led to the training yard, he expected the yard to be deserted, the sun had just started peeking over the horizon, but to his surprise, he found a boy hitting a dummy with his sword. Jaime stopped to look at him closely; his back was turned on Jaime, he couldn't see his face, but his moves were all precise.

Someone trained him very well! Jaime quickly concluded, remembering himself making similar moves when he was young. Move after move, strike after strike, nothing was left of the dummy. Watching for ten minutes, only then the boy stopped moving, putting the sword back in its place, a wet towel around his neck, and grabbing a skin bottle to drink.

"I haven't seen someone move like that for a long time; quite the talent you have, lad!" Jaime made himself known to him with the friendliest smile he could muster; he noticed the lad stiff for a moment before turning around to face him. The sunlight illuminated the training yard, his face now fully visible.

Jaime felt like he was suddenly back in time; his throat went dryer than the desert of Dorne, his curly hair was no longer covering his face, sharp cheekbones, handsome face, almost identical to him, the same face from his dreams, his eyes were similar to Rhaenys and Rhaegar...

"Y-you're the Brother!" I should protect...

Jaime murmured, he doubted the lad had heard him, but he could see it. It felt like looking at Prince Rhaegar and Princess Rhaenys all over again.

"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." Rhaegar had told him the last time Jaime had seen the crown prince.

You never returned, Jaime thought, feeling a pang in his throat, remembering the prince riding away, the sun shining brightly above him, making him look like a dragon flying to war. His kingsguards riding beside him, only Ser Barristan returned from the battle that day.

Now, Jaime looked at the man he had been looking for years; he was standing right in front of him. Jaime felt like slapping himself in case this was a dream.

Looking at the lad, who was still looking at him, his hand going to the pommel of his sword before moving away. Silence fell over them like a cold blanket. Jaime could tell the lad was waiting for him to say something; he quickly regained back his composure, and he needed to think straight.

"What do you want, Kingslayer?" The lad asked, his face as blank as a tombstone, but his eyes filled with hatred that almost made Jaime take a step back. Jaime hated to admit that hearing him call him Kingslayer was something that hurt, but he understood why. He had failed him in everything.

"I just said that your moves are quite precise, lad. May I know your name?" Jaime questioned, his hands away from the pommel of his sword, hoping to show that he was here in peace.

"Jon Sand," he said sharply and quickly, his eyes almost making a hole in Jaime's face. This made the Kingslayer briefly wonder if the Prince in front of him was a bastard.

"Then Jon, I have to say, you remind me of myself when I was young, maybe even better," Jaime said with a friendly smile, walking towards a barrel full of training swords; none were sharp; choosing one, he turned to face Jon who was eyeing him carefully.

"Would you care for a spar, Jon?" Jaime questioned, hoping to get one.

Jaehaerys Targaryen

Jon, on the other hand, had seen the way the Kingslayer was looking at him, and he wasn't sure what to think. For whatever reason, a crow had somehow entered his bedchamber, waking him up; when he had woken up, the crow had flown away. Jon tried to fall back asleep, but after a few minutes, he left his bed slowly, not to wake Arianne.

Slowly he left the bed; perhaps sparring in the morrow would do him good, he knew Arthur wouldn't be happy with him for leaving without him around, but he doubted anything would happen.

Ten minutes later, he heard someone speaking behind him. When he recognized him as the Kingslayer, Jon was half convinced to kill him right there and then; it would be a good way to avoid his identity being revealed; he knew by doing that, he would need to push the plans forward and start his conquest, he knew Dorne wasn't ready, but he had a dragon and Rhaenys was with him.

When The Kingslayer's face had turned pale, Jon knew he had recognized him; his hand quickly went to the pommel of his sword, ready to kill him and be done with him, only to hear Rhaenix speak on his mind.

"Don't, little brother!" Rhaenix quickly told him she had found a big enough cave to hide several miles away from Highgarden.

"Rhaenix! You know what he did; he failed you, he failed our brother, and he failed our Muna. Why shouldn't I kill him? If he tells anyone, then we might not make it," Jon told her mentally; since the beginning, they could talk together. Jon didn't know how, but he knew Rhaenix was his sister somehow, and her dragon had grown way more significant than a normal dragon should in the last seven years.

"I know, but trust me. I knew Jaime; give him a chance first; if he shows signs of betraying, then I will come and get you out of there. Uncle will know to leave once he hears that I was here," Rhaenix explained quickly, standing on her legs as she took the skies towards Highgarden.

Jon wanted to say that Jaime was a Kingslayer, someone who broke his oath and therefore couldn't be trusted, but Jon knew what kind of man his grandfather had been; perhaps Jaime had a good reason behind it. Knowing his sister would never do anything that would risk his life, Jon decided to see what the Kingslayer wanted.

"Would you care for a spar, Jon?" The Kingslayer offered with a sword without a blade.

Jae saw him removing the belt that strapped his real sword, letting it lean against a tree nearby, now, the Kingslayer was armed only with a sword with no blade, and he dropped the small dagger strapped on his waist.

"Very well, Jaime Lannister. I will accept it," Jon accepted with a little smile, but he was going to use one of his real swords, not a blunt one, something Jaime noticed but didn't comment on it.

Jon parried the blows and moved to the side to aim his own, feigning and thrusting at the same time before spinning away from Jaime's riposte. Jaime hit home the first and second after a few minutes, but Jon felt himself loosen up and began to move freer and more quickly than he had been.

Thrust, parry, thrust, spin, attack from the left and spin, then right and feign a spin before attacking with a flurry. When he caught Jaime's shoulder, he saw the wince and knew he would win, feigning to go for it again and forcing Jaime to overcompensate to cover it up. Jon began to throw in more jumps and spins, Jaime easily parrying them all, but he knew how they'd look to those watching on.

The riposte he hit caught Jaime on the shoulder once more and gave Jon the edge he needed. Once again, concentrating on the other side while Jaime protected his injured shoulder, Jon felt a little sorry for the stiffness and pain he knew he'd feel on the morrow. He moved in for the kill feigning sweeping Jaime's legs and making him fall on his injured shoulder, allowing him to take the role without a strike back. When Jaime realized he was behind him, it was too late, and Jon held the sword to the back of his head.

"Yield?" Jon questioned; Jaime dropped the blunt sword from his hand. The Kingslayer turned his head around to look over his shoulder but not seeing the one walking towards him from the front.

"The day is yours, my ki-" his words stopped mid-sentence when Arthur punched him in the stomach, making all his air go out. The man fell to the ground trying to catch his breath. Arthur grabbed his hair, lifting his head, pulling out a small dagger; he kneeled to the Kingslayer's level, ready to cut his throat when...

"Arthur, Stand Down," Jaehaerys spoke beside him, a hand on his shoulder. Arthur looked shocked. He briefly checked around, no one was around, but he knew it was a matter of time before the training yard was full of knights and soldiers.

"My King, he-" "Lower your blade, I command you," Jaehaerys ordered, looking at his friend and loyal knight with a sharp look.

Arthur reluctantly moved away the dagger, letting go of Jaime's hair, whose face collided with the dirt. Jaime took a deep breath, standing up, wiping a bit of dirt from his cheeks. His eyes went to Arthur; his face turned paler, his lips trembling.

"Ser Arthur is it really you!" Jaime said, not believing his own eyes. He had grown a beard, and his hair was dyed red, but Jaime could still recognize the man who made him a Knight on the happiest day of his life. All the feelings he had bottled up, bursting out like flames, the guilt, the fear, and everything. He wanted to ask many questions but knew this wasn't the best place to do it, in the middle of a Training Yard.

"Ser Jaime, before we continue, do you know any place we can talk privately, away from prying eyes?" Jae questioned, his eyes briefly flickered at two servants who were cleaning one of the barrels, they were out of earshot, but he didn't want to take chances.

"We can talk at the Weirwood Tree, your grace. House Tyrell still has one," Jaime suggested right away, with respect dripping into his voice; it felt good calling him that.

Arthur was a little taken aback by The Kingslayer's tone he used to address the true king. It reminded him of how he used to address Prince Rhaegar with respect and a little admiration!

"Don't call me that; right now, we are two bastards talking with the Kingslayer about old times," Jae said sharply, looking at the Kingslayer, who quickly nodded without hesitation.

"Let's hear what you have to say to us, Ser Jaime," Jae ordered. Jaime managed a small smile, a genuine one. He knew he was looking like a fool with that smile, but he didn't care right now. His mind is in turmoil. He hoped he would be allowed a second chance to serve a True King.

Leading them to the Weirwood Tree of Highgarden, the Kingslayer couldn't remember the last time he was so excited and anxious. One thing he knew for sure, this Tourney turned out to be more interesting than he had initially thought.