Chapter Text
“I can’t get out, can’t run away. There's no escaping you now.”
Chapter One
The first time you laid eyes on him felt like a lifetime ago, when you were still in Winterfell. You remembered the first chill sweeping through the ancient stone walls, a harbinger of the long winter that everyone knew was coming. The long summer was finally drawing to a close, and with it, a sense of change and foreboding settled over the North.
It was a bittersweet memory, one of the last times you would be whole with your family, all together and blissfully unaware of the trials that lay ahead. You stood next to your younger brother Robb, both of you trying to contain your excitement and curiosity. Your mother, Catelyn Stark, had made you all line up from eldest to youngest in front of the Great Hall. Today was no ordinary day; it was a day that would be etched into your memory forever. The King was coming to Winterfell for the first time since you were born, a rare and momentous occasion.
The air was thick with excitement and the scent of pine from the nearby Wolfswood. The people of Winterfell bustled around, preparing for the royal visit with a mix of anxiety and pride. Banners bearing the direwolf sigil of House Stark flapped in the brisk wind, adding to the sense of grandeur. The courtyard was meticulously cleaned, and every servant was on their best behavior, knowing that the eyes of the realm were upon them.
You knew all too well that this was no ordinary visit. Jon Arryn, the King's Hand, had died under mysterious circumstances, and the King, Robert Baratheon, was coming to Winterfell to seek out your father, Eddard Stark. Rumors had swirled for weeks about the King's intentions, but one thing was certain: this visit would change everything.
The sound of the great gates opening brought you out of your thoughts, a loud creak that echoed through the courtyard. You could feel the excitement and tension in the air, a palpable energy that made your heart race. Members of the gilded Kingsguard marched in, their armor gleaming despite the northern gloom. Trumpets blared, announcing the arrival of the King and his entourage.
A man in full armor rode in on a magnificent white horse, a figure that immediately commanded attention. His golden hair glinted in the pale sunlight, and his confident posture spoke of someone who was used to being admired. As his horse slowed to a stop, the man removed his helmet, revealing a handsome face that seemed almost too perfect to be real.
Robb leaned over and whispered in your ear, his voice filled with awe and a hint of disdain, “That’s Jaime Lannister. The Kingslayer.”
You couldn't help but stare, fascinated and repelled by the man who had earned such a notorious title. The man who had betrayed his own king and yet remained one of the most celebrated knights in the realm. It was hard to reconcile the stories you had heard with the man standing before you, so proud and unyielding.
That moment had seemed like a distant dream. Now, as you trudged along the muddy path through the dense forest, the rain pattering down on you, it felt hazy. The years that had passed since that day had been filled with loss and unending grief, and the innocence of your teenage years seemed like a cruel illusion.
You walked alongside a tall, blonde woman, Brienne of Tarth. Her presence was a constant reminder of the task at hand. Your mother had ordered Brienne to return Jaime to King’s Landing, hoping that your sister, Sansa, might be brought back safely in exchange. Determined to see your sister alive and well, you had insisted on joining them, sneaking away in the dead of night to accompany them.
The once-proud Jaime Lannister now seemed a shadow of his former self. His wrists were tied with rope, his clothes tarnished and stained. The rain had soaked through everything, leaving him looking weary. You had barely said a word to him in days. You were unwilling to speak to the man whose family was responsible for so much pain and suffering in your life. His attempts at witty remarks had been met with stony silence, and you had learned to ignore him as best you could.
Despite your best efforts, Jaime’s voice cut through the silence again, his tone mocking. "So, Lady Stark," he began, drawing out the words with a smirk, "enjoying the scenery on this little adventure of ours?"
You clenched your jaw, determined not to let him get under your skin. The journey was long and exhausting, and the last thing you needed was to be distracted by his provocations.
Your eyes narrowed at Jaime’s remark, but you kept your gaze ahead, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response. The rain continued to fall, mingling with the dirt beneath your boots.
Jaime chuckled, the sound grating on your nerves. "Oh, come now, don’t be like that. We’re all friends here, aren’t we?" His tone was as insincere as ever, but you could sense an underlying desperation in his voice.
Brienne shot him a warning glance, her hand instinctively resting on the hilt of her sword. "Quiet, Lannister," she said, her voice low and commanding. "We have a long way to go, and your rambling won’t make it any easier."
Jaime’s smirk faded slightly, but he didn’t seem entirely deterred. "Very well, Lady Brienne," he said, drawing out her title mockingly. "I’ll save my stories for another time."
You finally turned to look at him, unable to suppress your anger any longer. "Stories? What stories could you possibly tell that wouldn’t be drenched in lies and deceit?"
Jaime raised an eyebrow, his expression momentarily serious. "You’d be surprised, Lady Stark. Not all of us are as straightforward as you Northerners."
You had tried to stay calm and collected, but the journey was weighing heavily on you, causing you to snap. You scoffed, the bitterness in your voice evident. "Straightforward? Is that what you call it? My father was straightforward, and he died for it. My brother is straightforward, and he has to constantly fight to keep our home and our people safe. Is that what you mean by straightforward?"
Jaime’s eyes softened slightly, and for a moment, "I didn’t come here to argue with you, Stark. Believe it or not, I have my own burdens to bear."
You turned away, unwilling to let him see the tears forming in your eyes. The grief of losing your father was still fresh, like an open wound that had yet to scab. The rain masked your incoming tears well enough, but your heart ached with the weight of all you had lost. "We all have our burdens, Lannister," you said quietly. "But some of us carry them with honor."
The rest of the journey continued in a strained silence, the only sounds the pattering droplets and the distant calls of ravens.
The trail took you to the left, and you looked at your now very muddy boots as you continued to walk. All of a sudden, you felt your two traveling companions stop abruptly, causing you to look up with concern. Brienne’s face had turned ghost white as you followed her line of vision to see what was causing her distress.
Three women, clothes disheveled, were hung from a tree. Jaime, rope still binding him close to Brienne, stepped forward to get a closer look at the sight. “Ah… They laid with lions.” He observed, reading the sign that was tied around one of the girls' necks. You felt sick looking at the mangled bodies, knowing that Stark bannermen were behind this atrocity.
“Tavern girls, I'd say, probably served my father's soldiers. Maybe one of them gave a kiss and feel, that's how they earned this... Glorious work of the Northern Freedom Fighters, must make you proud Lady Stark.” Jaime continued mockingly. Bile rose in your throat as you turned away from the hanging women to face the Kingslayer. “Robb is not responsible for his bannermen's actions, as poor as they may be.” You retorted. “Tell that to yourself tonight when they sway in your dreams.” Jaime whispered. Brienne pushed him out of your way and forward onto the path.
You watched closely as Brienne shoved Jaime against a tree, fumbling with the ropes tied to his hands. “What are you doing?” He asked. “Burying them.” Brienne said flatly as she tied Jaime to the tree. “We shouldn’t stay here, we should get back on the river,” he started, “I think these women would understand.” “I don't care what you think. Lady Stark, go stand by the Kingslayer while I cut them down, make sure he doesn’t try anything.” Brienne instructed. You walked over towards Jaime, shooting him a hateful look. He leaned over to whisper in your ear, “What are you going to do if I try something. Are you going to slit my throat?”
That mocking tone he used filled you with anger, and you felt your fists clench at your sides. “Maybe,” you replied through gritted teeth, not wanting to continue this conversation but unable to ignore the aggravation. Jaime’s lips curled into a half-smile, his eyes glinting with a mixture of amusement and defiance. “You’ve got spirit, I’ll give you that. But killing me won’t bring your father back, you know.”
Your heart pounded in your chest, and you struggled to keep your emotions in check. “You don’t get to speak about my father,” you hissed, your voice trembling with barely controlled rage. “You don’t get to speak about any of us.”
Jaime’s expression softened for a moment, and you saw a flicker of something—regret, perhaps—in his eyes. But it was gone as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by his usual mask of arrogance. “Fair enough, Lady Stark. I suppose I’ve earned your hatred.”
Before you could respond you heard distant voices coming closer. You pulled your hood over your head, concealing your identity. “Untie me. Now.” Jaime urgently told Brienne. She ignored him and stood under the three hanging women as three men approached her.
“What's your business here?” One asked. “Traveling a prisoner.” Brienne replied. The men broke out into a fit of laughter. You eyed them, these were Stark bannermen. You slunk behind the trunk of the tree Jaime was tied to, if they saw your face your journey would be compromised. “A woman… You're a woman! Fuck me!” Another one cackled. You peered out from behind the tree, not wanting to be blindsighted in case this interaction turned even more unpleasant than it already was.
“All right we’ll be going.” Brienne turned around and walked towards Jaime. The three men approached her further, “Whoa. Who do you fight for?” “The Starks.” She replied.
One man pointed at Jaime, “What did he do?” You rolled your eyes, this wasn’t going anywhere good. “Apparently eating is now a crime, who knew-” Jaime started, trying to imitate a commoner. Brienne abruptly cut him off, “no, stealing is a crime.”
“Where are you taking him?” Another asked. “To Riverrun.” She answered, not looking at the man. You felt helpless standing idle behind this tree, maybe if these men saw a Stark they would know to back off. You pulled down your hood and slunk out from the tree, “If you're quite finished with your mocking, we have places to be.”
Brienne gave you a warning look, signaling you shouldn’t have done that but you couldn’t care less. It took a second for the men to register your face. “Lady… Stark.” One said. “Why are you accompanying them?” Another asked. “As she said, we are taking him to Rivverun. My mother is a Tully, I wanted to visit my grandsire. I don’t see why that’s any of your concern.” You continued, nodding at Brienne.
“Why not just kill him?” The shortest man asked flippantly. “For stealing a pig?” Jaime shot him a judging look, his disdain evident. “Steal from the Tully’s, it's their dungeons you rot in.” You supplied. “I don’t make the orders, he must be important to someone.” Brienne said.
“Sending him with you, how important could he be?” The taller one laughed. “I think you’re forgetting who you’re in the presence of.” You said, losing your patience. “All right… have it your way… M’lady.” He replied. You let out a deep breath, beginning to turn around.
“Do I know you?” One of the men suddenly asked, his question directed at Jaime. Your heart felt like it stopped. If Jaime was recognized, things would turn ugly very quickly. You shot a warning glance at Jaime, silently pleading with him to remain silent.
Jaime, however, met the man’s gaze with his own calm demeanor. “I doubt it,” he replied smoothly, his voice void of the usual sarcasm. “I’ve met many people, but I don’t remember you.”
The man squinted, trying to place Jaime’s face. “You look familiar,” he insisted, suspicion growing in his eyes.
You stepped in closer, drawing the man’s attention away from Jaime. “He’s just a thief,” you said firmly. “Nothing more. Let’s not waste any more time. We need to move on.”
Brienne grabbed the end of the ropes bounding his hands together and you began to walk away.
“Wait… I do know you… that's the Kingslayer.” The man said. Jaime whipped around. “I wish someone would’ve told me, I wouldn’t have had to steal that pig.” He replied, his voice full of sarcasm. “If this was the Kingslayer I think I would know about it.” You added, turning around to try and walk away from this interaction.
“I have a question for you three, what's his name? I count to three you all answer.” The tallest man asked, pointing at Jaime. You swallowed heavily, you knew now the only way out of this was with violence. You shared a defeated look with Brienne and Jaime.
Before you could react, Brienne lunged forward, drawing her sword with lightning speed. The tallest man barely had time to raise his weapon before Brienne’s blade clashed against his, the force of her strike driving him back. The suddenness of the attack caught the other two men off guard.
Brienne moved with deadly efficiency. She swung her sword in a wide arc, catching the shortest man in the throat, and he crumpled to the ground, lifeless. Without pausing, she turned her attention back to the tallest man, who was struggling to regain his footing.
The third man attempted to rush her from the side, but Brienne sidestepped his attack, her sword plunging into his chest with a sickening thud. He fell to his knees, gasping for breath, before collapsing face-first into the mud. The tallest man, now visibly shaken, raised his sword in a last-ditch effort to defend himself. Brienne met his strike with a powerful blow, her sword cutting through his weapon and deep into his shoulder. He screamed in pain, dropping his shattered sword and clutching at the wound. With a final, brutal stroke, Brienne ended his suffering.
You stood frozen, heart pounding, as Brienne wiped the blood from her sword and turned to face you and Jaime. “We need to move. There might be others nearby,” she said, her voice steady despite the carnage around her. You nodded, still processing the swiftness and brutality of the fight. “Let’s go. We can’t afford to waste any more time. We need to find shelter for the night.”
The blonde woman nodded, “let’s get to the trees for cover.” You all passed the hanging women, to enter the forest. The journey was grueling, and you could feel the weight of the day’s events pressing heavily on you.
The rain continued to fall as you, Brienne, and Jaime trudged through the dense forest. The canopy above provided little shelter from the downpour, and the muddy path made every step a struggle. The air was thick with the scent of wet earth and pine, and the rhythmic sound of the rain was occasionally broken by the crackling of branches underfoot.
Brienne led the way, her tall form cutting a determined silhouette against the backdrop of the storm. Her sword was sheathed, but her vigilance was evident. Jaime, despite his chains, followed with an air of stoic resignation. You walked beside him, the tension between you palpable.
Jaime broke the silence with a sardonic tone. “You know, Lady Stark, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to drown me with all this rain.”
You shot him a sharp glance, your patience wearing thin. “If you’d rather be on the receiving end of more of Brienne’s hospitality, I’m sure she’d be happy to oblige.”
Jaime smirked, wincing slightly as the cold rain trickled down his neck. “Ah, I see. The infamous Lady Stark with a sense of humor. Who would have thought?”
“Not everything is a jest, Lannister,” you replied tersely. “We’re here to find shelter, not exchange pleasantries. And before you ask, no, I don’t have any more witty retorts for you.” Jaime raised an eyebrow, the smirk never leaving his face. “So, no witty retorts, no friendly conversation. What, then, do you have planned for me? A silent treatment for the entirety of our journey?”
“You’re not here for my entertainment,” you said, your voice sharp. “You’re a means to an end. The sooner we find this abandoned homestead and get some rest, the sooner we can continue on our way. And perhaps, just perhaps, I’ll find it within myself to tolerate your presence.”
Jaime chuckled, though it was more a bitter sound than a genuine laugh. “Tolerate my presence? I’d be flattered if it wasn’t so obvious that you’d rather be anywhere but here with me.”
“There’s plenty I’d rather be doing,” you said, your tone cold. “But duty calls. And despite everything, I have to see this through. Even if it means enduring your company.”
Brienne turned slightly, glancing back at you both. “There. Looks like an abandoned cottage.” The small stone building, ruined and covered in vines loomed ahead.
Jaime squinted through the rain. “Well, that’s certainly picturesque. If you’re looking for a place to hide from the storm, it’ll do.”
You quickened your pace, eager to reach the shelter it offered. “It’ll have to do. We don’t have the luxury of time or choice.”
As you approached the cottage, you noticed the overgrown path and the creaking door hanging loosely on its hinges. Brienne pushed it open with a strong shove, and the old wood groaned in protest. Inside, the space was musty and damp, but it would provide protection from the relentless rain.
Jaime followed you in. “It’s charming in its own way,” he remarked, his tone half-serious, half-mocking. “If you’re into abandoned ruins.”
Brienne was already scouting the interior, assessing the condition of the place. “We’ll need to clean up a bit, but there should be plenty of room for you two to sleep.” You scoffed, glancing at Jaime with a look of disdain. “I’m not staying here alone with him.”
“Someone has to keep watch. We’ve already had a close call,” Brienne replied firmly.
You couldn’t argue with her, but it didn’t make you feel any better about staying in close proximity with the Kingslayer for hours.
Jaime, sensing your discomfort, leaned back against the wall with a mocking smile. “Ah, come now, Lady Stark. It’s not so bad. We’ll be practically sleeping in the same room. Maybe we’ll discover some new things about each other.” You shot him a sharp look, your patience wearing thin. “I’d rather not discover anything about you, thank you.”
Jaime’s grin widened, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Oh, but think of it as an opportunity. We’ll have hours to exchange stories, share our deepest secrets, and maybe even bond over our mutual disdain for each other.”
You crossed your arms, trying to ignore the heat rising to your cheeks. “If you’re trying to make this situation more bearable with your attempts at humor, it’s not working.”
Jaime’s tone softened, though the smirk remained. “Well, if it helps, I promise to be on my best behavior. No more witty remarks or annoying commentary. Just… two people trying to rest up before another long day of this unglamorous journey.”
You looked away from him, a small smile creeping onto your face. You hoped he would stay true to his word, though you doubted he would.