•𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖉𝖚𝖘𝖙 • Jaime Lannister OC

✹twenty seven✹

╣they could've been ours╠

"Hello." Arya gasped and turned away from the mess that she had made in the kitchen. Prince Tommen Baratheon stood in the doorway with a small smile on his face and a wooden sword in his hand. "What happened?" He asked in concern.

Arya huffed and turned back to the florey mess she had made. "I was only trying to make a few tarts for myself because Septa said I was looking too shapely and denied me dessert. I followed every single instruction in the book and still they came out burnt." Tommen had moved forward and was now standing next to her as they both evaluated the tray of smoking cherry tarts.

"Don't worry, I'm sure they're fine." The prince assured before picking one up and all but shoved it into his mouth. Arya watched in horror as his face screwed up in disgust while he tried to force the would-be treat down his throat. Her horror soon turned to amusement when he spat the burnt thing out and laughed. "I suppose you'll have to warn me anytime you attempt to make something edible."

Arya gave into laughter as well. Perhaps all the Lannister sons weren't all that bad. She thought to herself. The queen and Joffrey were another story.

Arya eyed the wooden sword that was still in the prince's grip and tapped it lightly. "How about you and I do something that I'm actually good at?" she proposed.

Tommen looked down at his play sword and caught her meaning. "Oh mother would be furious if she caught me practicing. She says I'm too much of a baby to train with Joffrey." There was something that looked like fear in the young boy's eyes that made Arya's heart hurt. She grabbed his hand and pulled him away from the kitchens and the doughy mess, not really minding that he was a prince and Cersei Lannister's son.

"Well I don't give two shits about what your mother says. If she catches us, you can blame it on me." She paused before adding. "Everyone does anyway."

"What do you mean?" Tommen asked once he had caught up to her dragging him along the hallways of Winterfell.

Arya frowned and studied the stone around her. "I'm always blamed for Sansa's stress of Rickon's wilderness. Even when I've got nothing to do with it." She paused. "I don't mind it really. It's just frustrating. At least father knows that it's not my fault." They started to walk again.

"At least your father talks to you." Tommen said with a sort of defeated air. Arya stopped again and couldn't help the frown that etched its way upon her face when she saw how sad the little prince was. "He really doesn't talk to any of us but Myrcella and I have hardly had over ten conversations with him in the span of our lives. Mother loves us. I know that but she only really makes time for Joffrey. You get blamed, but at least you have parents who care."

Arya, not much one for being sad, placed a hand on Tommen's shoulder. "Well you'll have me in King's Landing. I can make time for you." Tommen smiled and nodded. "Now let's go, the day's just started."

✵ ✵ ✵ ✵

Ned watched his and Robert's children from a snowy battlement above the courtyard, a rare smile gracing his weathered face. Arya was chasing after the boys with Prince Tommen at her side, shouting out proclamations of war and justice. Tommen didn't seem to know what to do with himself and chose just to follow the girl as her direwolf did; laughing and shouting along with her. Jon and Robb were huddled together, interrupted every once in a while by Arya or Theon while Sansa and Princess Myrcella sat watching everything on two wooden crates.

He was so wrapped up in the scene that he failed to notice another presence behind him. "Doesn't it amaze you how innocent and young they all are?"

Ned turned sharply at the soft voice of Queen Cersei and his smile fell. He tried to ignore that annoying little tug in his heart and the burn of the faded red favor on his wrist as he greeted her. "Your Grace." Ned aclowleged with a dip of his head.

"You used to hate calling me that." She regarded it softly as she floated over to stand next to him, as if their past was something that was fragile, something untouchable. It was, yet Ned always was someone to ponder on what could have been.

A slow smile made its way back onto his face as Arya gave a scream of victory after she bested Tommen with a wooden sword. "I did." He paused. "And I find that I still do."

He and Cersei fell into a warm silence as they watched their children below. "They could have been ours." She whispered it, so soft that Ned wasn't even sure she had said it at all. His heart ached as he imagined that future. It was so clear right now in front of him. Ned could see a daughter with wild hair and bright emerald eyes and a son of gold hair and a long northern face. And more than that, he could see Cersei by his side; a proud lioness standing by a wolf.

"The title of Queen suits you, your grace." Lord Eddard spoke just as soft as hers, yet his baritone voice seemed to cut down to her core. "I always thought you were meant for a better fate than the fate as a lord's wife."

Cersei did not look at him. She feared that if she were to look upon his face with such thoughts running through her head, she wouldn't know what to do with herself. "It depends on the lord. I could have been happy with a lord." She risked a glance and was met with sad, soft, steel eyes. His melancholy mood seemed to spread to her and they watched each other with sad, soft eyes.

"Mother!" Myrcella called up in a soft ladylike voice. Cersei quickly steeled her expression and referred back to a smile she used only with her children. Her real smile. It had been years since Ned had seen it at its full.

"Yes darling?" Cersei called down with as much grace as a queen should.

Myrcella held up a gold and red cloth which she had just finished stitching and Ned couldn't believe how much she looked like her mother. "Look at these new stitches Lady Sansa taught me. Aren't they beautiful?"

Cersei's smile brightened and Ned thought it one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen. "They look lovely sweetling." Myrcella blushed at the praise and turned back to Sansa who was smiling timidly. "I've been wanting a new handkerchief, perhaps you can embroider one for me. Your work has been improving over the past year."

The suggestion seemed to light up Myrcella's face. "I'll have it for you before we reach home!" The girl turned and skipped back over to Sansa.

"Does your Tully wife ever wonder about this?" Cersei's cool hands wrapped around his left wrist where a tattered ribbon was tied. Her fingers brushed against his skin and goose flesh spread down his arm. He was a grown man for gods sakes! With five children and still he was affected by Cersei's touch. Even after almost fifteen years. "Does she kiss you like I did?"

It took all the strength in Ned to pull away from Cersei. His eyes hardened and her hands fell back to her side. "I hope you find your stay in Winterfell enjoyable my queen." his bow was low and he met her eyes before turning away. Cersei was left standing on the battlement. Much like she left Ned years ago at Harrenhal.