Chapter 3: Jon IV

Jon IV

"It's Jon… for now," Jon said.

Ser Jaime still regarded him warily. "I met a wildling once. I challenged him to an arm wrestle. He was big, but with my right arm I pulled him over with nary a sweat."

Jon laughed. "It was your left arm and I remember you losing rather spectacularly to Tormund."

Jaime's guarded expression turned into one of relief and he stepped closer. Jon was surprised when Jaime wrapped him up in a hug. At first Jon thought he might be weeping, but when Jaime pulled back his eyes were clear and dry, but there was no denying that Jaime looked the happiest he had seen him since Brienne died.

"It's such a relief to know there's at least one other person who remembers that time. I thought I was the mad one after so many years of remembering the Long Night."

Jon cocked his head in curiosity. "Did you try to tell people of the Long Night?"

"Oh certainly not. You saw how well the South believed us the last time. You think they'll believe me in the midst of the longest summer on record?" He shook his head. "No, I've been… biding my time, as far as I can tell. Waiting… for you."

"Biding…? How long have you been back?"

Jaime blinked at him in confusion. "I came back on the day of my sister's wedding."

"To King Robert?!" Jon hissed. He tried to keep his voice low in case there was anyone nearby, but he came close to shouting at that.

Jaime stared at him suspiciously. "How long have you been back?"

"Only about six months."

"That settles it. The gods sent me back that far for a reason," Jaime replied, his expression the very definition of stone. "Have you noticed something funny about my sister's children?"

"Tommen's missing."

"Anything else?"

"They're not yours, are they?"

"Do you really think I could sleep with her after what she did in our other life? She is almost single-handedly the reason we lost that war."

"We won that war."

"Hmm… how long did you live after that wound?" Jaime said with his old smug, superior smile.

"Long enough to see the the sunrise… a few minutes after you died," Jon replied with a grimace.

"Just as I thought. You were the last king and you died without heirs. The Night King accomplished what he wanted. Doesn't matter if he didn't live to see it," Jaime replied. "Otherwise, the gods wouldn't have seen fit to have us relive our lives. I've been forced to guard your father's murderer while he spirals the kingdom into mountains of debt with my father."

Jon blinked at him. "You've been loyal to me all this time? Even when I was just a babe?"

Jaime looked affronted. "After what we've been through, you'd doubt my loyalty?"

"N-no. I'm sorry. I know that winning your loyalty was hard fought, but once I have it, I can count on it. I'm especially pleased you're speaking again." Jaime shrugged and nodded and then Jon asked, "Why did you stop speaking?"

"I had nothing else to say," Jaime replied curtly. "So, you've been back for six months. Do you have a plan to take the throne yet?" He shifted so that he was leaning against a tree. Every once in awhile, his eyes would sweep the area for any movement that might indicate another presence.

Jon sighed and shook his head. "No. I may not be a bastard, but that's not my currently reality. I have no power here and I'm afraid of what my uncle might do if I went to him about this."

"You would have his support, I'm sure, but I'm still not clear on when the best time would be to spring this."

"You've had more than ten years to think on this. Any ideas?" Jaime grimaced. "Have you not thought about it at all?"

"No, I have. There's little else to do when you stand around for days at a time. My plan boiled down to coming up here and accepting you as my squire. Without your memory, you would have been reluctant to the idea and your uncle would almost certainly object too because of me. But earning a knighthood under a Kingsguard is perfectly acceptable for a bastard. Then if my sister killed off Robert like she did last time, I would do what I could to make sure Ned doesn't lose his head and secret him and his children away from King's Landing."

"You'd be considered a traitor to your family."

"To Lord Tywin and Cersei?" Jaime barked a laugh. "I have little regard for what either of them thinks."

"What about Tyrion?"

"Maybe father will actually make him the heir like he deserves to be then."

"Very well. I don't have any better plans. I certainly wasn't going to go back to the Wall. I'll accept to be your squire," Jon said, rubbing his chin as he thought.

"Are your skills back to where they were at the end?" Jaime asked. A raven suddenly fled its roost and Jaime's sword was in his hand in the next instant. Jon shrank back so that he was in the shadows. His eyes followed Jaime as he crept off as silent as a ghost into the trees where his black cloak allowed him to disappear. Several minutes passed where he could hear nothing. After sometime, he could hear Jaime making his way back, having clearly made a loop around the area.

"This was all that I could find," Jaime said with a wry smile, holding Ghost up by the scruff of his neck. His pup tried to wriggle away, but otherwise did not cry.

"Ghost!" Jon stepped forward and grabbed him. "Stay close, boy. Jaime could've accidentally killed you."

"Not likely. He's easy to spot. Besides, he came in dead useful for the war," Jaime replied. "Now… about your swordsmanship. How are you doing?"

"I'm not quite back to what I used to be, but I'm already leaps and bounds better than when I went off to the Night's Watch."

"Good. Only men who show an uncharacteristic amount of talent and promise are ever selected for squireship to a knight of the Kingsguard. Podrick Payne being the exception," Jaime said, but he was smiling and there was a faraway look in his eyes.

"Pod was an exceptional man," Jon said, fondness coloring his voice. It saddened him that he didn't know the young man's fate. He prayed it hadn't been too difficult for him at the end. "How does it feel to have your swordhand back?"

"You should have seen me when I first came back. I nearly got kicked out of the Kingsguard. My instincts were backwards with my right hand, but my left hand wasn't trained either. For about a week, I was absolutely useless. I was the talk of court. My sister was upset - that wasn't the only reason she was upset - and my father thought I was disgracing my position, even though he didn't want me in the Kingsguard. Maester Pycelle was at his most useless. He tried to say that I suffered a stroke in my sleep and 'forgot' how to fight right-handed. Robert very nearly had it with me then, but I persuaded him to let me stay on for another week to see if there was any improvement. Naturally, I trained extra hard and I'm back to where I was before my hand got cut off. I even went ahead and trained with my left hand as well, just in case."

"You don't seem too concerned about the prospect of losing your hand again."

He shrugged. "I got used to not having it. My mind never really forgot it, but I was able to turn my instincts around. I've actually been praying to the gods to give me back the ability to see sounds. That was dead useful."

"You, praying?" Jon had to stifle a laugh. Jaime had been one to make acerbic comments about whether the gods were really listening or not.

"There are clearly gods or we wouldn't be talking right now. And I know they're listening or watching. Whichever you prefer."

"And how did you discover that?"

"I tried to kill myself."

Jon's heart dropped into his stomach and he gaped at Jaime. "Again?"

Jaime frowned severely at him. "What do you mean 'again?'"

"You tried to kill yourself after Brienne died."

"Oh, that. No… no that was unintentional. I was grieving, I couldn't feel the cold. I didn't even realize what happened until I woke up."

"That's a small relief to hear, but it was still foolish," Jon grumbled. "So… why did you try to kill yourself?"

"I couldn't take it anymore. It was about a year after Julianna had been born. I did what the gods wanted; I didn't sleep with my sister. I was forced to live and serve people I hated, day in and day out. I stand outside the door when Robert's whoring and I stand outside Cersei's door when she's whoring. She makes a special point to do it when I'm there for rejecting her. I didn't see the point of continuing. The only person I could rely on was Tyrion and I saw him sparingly."

"What about Brienne?"

"She was just a little girl training with her sword at that point. She would have gone on to be of great service to you, never knowing me. I know you would have treated her well." Jaime's eyes were cast to the ground and he fell into silence. Jon was just about ready to prod him further when he continued, "I went to the godswood. No one ever goes there. There would've been no one to interrupt me. I was carrying a noose and I headed straight for the weirwood tree. It's not a true weirwood, like this one, but it would serve its purpose. I climbed it and tied the rope around the thickest branch I could find and then I hung it around my neck. I just sat there for a moment, enjoying the quiet. Then I shoved off the branch." His voice seemed to catch in his throat. He was quiet for the longest time and he said, "Hanging is a painful way to die. My throat was on fire and my head was pounding and my lungs were burning, but I never tried to get down or clawed at my neck. I blacked out. It seemed to take forever to get to that point. I had a dream. I thought it was rather funny to be having dreams since the last time I died, it was like falling asleep after a long day.

"I dreamed of Brienne. Of course, I did. I dreamed of the time right after losing my hand. I had given up on living then and she was the one who encouraged me to keep going, to fight back, get my revenge. This time, though, I said, 'I don't have anything worth fighting for.' And there was a voice. It was deep and dark and full of… knowing. It said, 'Of course you do. He awaits you in Winterfell.'

"Next thing I know, I open my eyes and I'm lying at the foot of the weirwood tree. The rope that I was hanging on is swinging above me like I had just fallen and there was a telltale smell of burning. The rope had been burned through halfway down the length. I left both pieces there and trudged back to the White Tower. I had a terrible headache and for two weeks I had a dark ugly bruise and rope burns around my neck. My voice was a horrible croak and I had to eat soup while my throat healed. Rumors had it that I had a rough time with a whore. I think Cersei spread those rumors. No one asked me about it, but I think Ser Barristan Selmy knew. He wore a look of pity every time he saw me until the bruise finally healed. I also never got reprimanded for supposedly lying with a whore even though Kingsguard are supposed to be celibate. Now that I think about it, the old knight hasn't been quite so dreadful to me as he used to be for soiling my cloak by killing the king.

"So now you know. The gods are watching us," Jaime said, sounding oddly superior for having just related the tale of how he committed suicide.

Jon felt like he was dying inside and he seemed to struggle to find the right words. "Seven hells, Jaime! I'm glad you're alive."

"Me too," Jaime replied with a faint smile. "It only took another four years of torture, but we have finally arrived at the starting point. It's such a relief to know you still have your memories. The task doesn't seem so big anymore."

"But it's just the two of us."

"We'll manage." Jaime glanced up at the sky then and said, "The night's almost done. We've been here for too long already. I'll be watching your training. Do me proud. I can't take a squire who doesn't deserve it." He turned away when he stopped again and said, "And keep your brother from climbing. Just because I won't be there, doesn't mean that someone else won't be."

Jon nodded. Ghost had gotten tired of hearing them talk and curled up at Jon's feet, burying his nose into his tail. When Jon bent to pick him up, he cradled him like a baby and held him close to his chest. He held him so out of convenience, but mostly out of comfort. Not for the first time he took solace in having a loving family, the only exception being Catelyn Stark. What would it be like to live in a place where you hate everyone and have not a single friend?

Jaime might have been better off joining the Night's Watch. He wouldn't have had to put up with listening to his sister cuckold her husband and he would have ultimately been serving a greater purpose.

Jon went to bed keeping Ghost close. He didn't fall asleep until he could hear the servants stirring at dawn.