A Game of Lies

Fire

The days seemed long, locked up in that wheelhouse, but they were making marvelous time. It became clear to them they were trailing right behind the King, who no doubt would slow up his party through the days, whilst the Queen insisted they stop by nightfall. Jaime estimated they were about two to three days time behind the King now, as they met stragglers on the way, who told them all they needed to know about how far behind they were.

As the days went on, Lewyn became more and more restless. The boy was still very weak, and experiencing a lot of pain, but he held tough. He wanted to be home in the Red Keep just as bad as Jaime, it seemed.

Lewyn didn't bring up any more of the events on his own, and it wasn't until Jaime had brought it up, about a week into their travels, that they discussed it. It had been evening, and they'd just finished their supper.

"How is your head feeling?", he'd asked for easily the tenth time that day.

"It's..", Lewyn said. He obviously didn't want to admit how much pain he was truly in.

"The Maester will give you Milk of the Poppy", Jaime said, "are you..sure you don't remember anything?", Jaime asked.

"I remember the dreams", Lewyn replied casually.

"Of Rhaegar and Robert?", Jaime questioned.

"Not just them. I dreamed about Lord Stark, Bran, Robb", he grew quiet suddenly, looking sad, "and Oberyn", he finished, setting down his cup after taking a quick sip.

"You had some very odd dreams", Jaime remarked, though he noted the boys change in mood when he mentioned Oberyn.

Lewyn looked at him then, and Jaime could tell the boy was considering something in his mind.

"Are you.. sure they were only dreams, father?", Lewyn asked after a moment.

"I'm sure, Lewyn. Like I said before, Rhaegar Targaryen has been dead for years. As has Aerys Targaryen", he responded.

"Yes but, they seemed so real. You looked much different father, younger, just a bit older than me. And the Trident, it seemed so real", he said.

"I think someone's been telling you too many gruesome stories", Jaime said with a slight smile, "it was only a dream. You've heard of how King Robert killed Rhaegar your whole life, it's no surprise you'd begin having nightmares about it. Especially after being hit with a hammer yourself", he said. The boy just nodded, wincing a bit as he did so.

"I think I remember one thing", Lewyn said suddenly, very quiet.

All Jaime's attention turned to his son. He leaned in, setting the glass he had down, and listening closely.

"Go on", he urged.

"I had turned to look for you, but you'd gone. Id said goodbye to Jon. This elderly man approached me, telling me you'd sent him to retrieve me. I went with him, and he led me to the Godswood. I became nervous, but then I saw your horse. Or. At least I thought it was Honor, until I got close enough. I remember turning from the horse, and then it goes blank. I don't even remember the men's faces, or seeing them. I just remember..., he stopped talking now.

"What?", Jaime asked.

"I remember calling for help. But I couldn't scream or yell. I remember, I remember screaming in my mind, though, and then a voice answered back. It was Bran. Bran Stark. And then I heard the growling, but everything had already gone dark, I couldn't see where Bran was", the boy said, "was that just a dream too?", he asked a moment later.

Jaime was silent. He wasn't sure what his son remembered and what he didn't. He wasn't sure if his son remembered the accident Bran himself had been in. But it was odd to say the least. Of all the voices to hear, he heard Bran Stark, when it was Brandon Stark's direwolf who lay over his son, in the clearing, on that damned morning.