The First Frost

Jaime/ Joffery

For this chapter, there will be two POVs that will roughly equate to a normal length chapter.

*Jaime*

Casterly Rock felt empty. As a child, he would always have Cersei or Tyrion to keep him company in the quiet halls, but now only the sound of his own boots on cold stone seemed to follow him.

His hand traced the gold details on its golden counterpart. The cool metal reminded him of the hilt of a sword. His heart ached at the thought of a sword in his hands again. To be able to wrap all ten fingers around a blade felt better than the love of any woman, or at least Cersei. Yet, he would never be able to use a sword as he once had or feel Cersei in his arms.

His mind fluttered back to his journey to Casterly Rock. It confirmed all of his concerns regarding Joffrey's reign. The first village they passed, had been ravaged by the plague, the next by raiders, and the third famine. This pattern continued as he went through the Westerlands. Jaime had never put much thought into the wellbeing of the common folk, but his stomach churned with disgust as he saw the bodies pile.

He knew that the situation in the Riverlands and North was dire, but the Westerlands had been left unravaged by war, how had they fallen from prosperity?

He knew deep down that that the ruination stemmed from more than Joffrey's negligence. Tywin was always calculated, he would never allow this unless it was intentional. A few months ago, Jaime would have said that even his father wasn't so cruel that he would allow the common folk to suffer to this degree. But now, he wasn't so sure. What was Tywin's game? Perhaps he wanted them weak in order to avoid an uprising in the name of the so-called Aemon Targaryen who was slowly retaking the North?

Jaime didn't know if he believed that Ned Stark's bastard was actually heir to the Iron Throne. The boy hadn't left any particular impact on him when he visited Winterfell. He had been quiet, melancholy, nearly invisible.

He could remember Rhaegar. Despite his quiet nature, he commanded the attention of a room. As a boy, Jaime admired him greatly. He was a skilled fighter, but after Jaime joined the Kingsguard, he learned that he was a kind man as well. He would sing in the streets and help the poor. 'The perfect prince' Cersei had once called him. She never knew how right she was.

As Jaime turned and walked out onto a balcony overlooking the sea, a terrifying thought entered his mind. The last thing that Rhaegar had asked of him was to protect his family, and Jaime had failed. Now, there was another Targaryen in the world, one that would fight against his family. If Jaime chose to back Aemon, he would be fighting against his flesh and blood. If given the opportunity for redemption, would he take it?

*Joffery*

His mother drank her third glass of wine, her eyes bore into him as Tywin spoke. 'Dragon spawn' his father had called them. Despite Robert Baratheon's shortcomings, he had been correct when ripping the Targaryen dynasty out, root and stem. It was a shame that he had missed two. Joffery would finish his father's work

If only Robert Baratheon has seen through Ned Stark's lies. Then the brains of Rhaegar and Lyanna's babe would paint the walls of the Red Keep as had that of Aegon and Rhaenys.

Then he would only have the Dragon Queen to deal with. But alas, there were now two Targaryen's to fight. Perhaps they would simply kill each other. King Maegor had killed his nephew for the throne, even his Daenerys Targaryen supposedly allowed her savage husband to murder her older brother to help her claim. The Targaryen's were power-mad and bloodthirsty, their biggest threat was each other, maybe they could simply dispose of each other.

By the way, his grandfather's brow had knit together he knew that Tywin was concerned. 'The great Tywin Lannister.' Joffery thought bitterly. So far, Joffery was less than impressed by his grandfather's council. They lost the North and Vale. Soon the Riverlands would be stolen from them by the dragon spawn and wolf pup. Perhaps the lion of Lannister was losing his teeth?

His eyes turned to his mother. Ever since uncle Jaime had left, she had a cup of wine in her hand. She already had a cap on her usefulness, but the drink seemed to dull her wits even more. At one point his mother had been his dearest friend and closest advisor, now she was nothing of the sort.

Joffery shifted his weight on the cold throne. He could feel the blades pressing against his back. His hands were covered in scars from the edges of the throne. Had it hurt his father like this? He knew that Aerys often suffered at the edge of the blades, but had the famed Robert Baratheon? No, he probably didn't. Joffery's father had haunted him from the grave. Robert was a drunken fool, but that drunken fool had held so much power over Joffery.

As a child, he was subject to Robert's criticism. That he was weak or cruel. There had been no pleasing him. If Joffery killed the last of the dragon spawn, maybe that would finally make Robert proud. Maybe that would make him into the leader that he was born to be. Yes, he would be known for killing the last of the dragons.