The Lion and the Dragon

Chapter Three

Ser Jaime had been gone for hours and hours at a time. Each time he would return, she would jump at the sudden, quiet knocks upon the door, signaling her to unbar it.

Two knocks, pause, three quick knocks, pause, one knock.

He had repeated it at least three dozen times, over and over, repeating "pay attention, listen!", over and over, as she sat, partially in shock, emotionless.

"Do you have it?", he had asked, and she had leaned forward, repeating the knocks on the bedside table, as he had.

"Good. Very good!", he'd exclaimed, "don't forget it! And do not exit for anything, or anyone. If someone comes, and they say I've sent for you-", he said, as he laid the dagger before her, "they're lying!".

She sat upon his bed, her knees pulled to her chest, and her chin resting upon them. She simply nodded to him.

He walked to her quickly, "It is very important, Lady Rhae!", he said with near desperation.

Her light lilac eye's looked up at him, expressionless.

"Why?", she whispered.

He'd known Lady Rhae for many years now. She wasn't an ignorant nor dull girl. But he couldn't help but want to smack sense in to her, as she asked that.

"You'll be killed!", he exclaimed.

She simply shrugged, looking straight ahead once more, her face still showing no emotion.

Jaime understood then.

He sat beside her, resting his hand on her shoulder.

"They'd want you to escape", he said quietly.

"But where am I to go? And who do I have, Ser Jaime?", she asked, her eyes still forward.

Jaime bit his lip, thinking for a moment if he should disclose this information to him.

"Your cousin's, Viserys, and the baby girl, they're alive", he said softly.

Instantly, a look of surprise and concern took over her face, but relief was also evident.

"Viserys? And little Dany?", she asked, nearly smiling.

"They are safe. I do not know where, but I hope to find out, once I know it's safe. The Free Cities will be their destination, I suspect", he said, and she suddenly looked very thoughtful, her mind racing.

"Why are you helping me, Ser Jaime?", she asked after a few moments, looking to him.

Jaime was silent, looking away from her gaze, and to the floor. He sighed, and stood.

"I'll try to get some of your belongings, if I can", he said, "remember, do not open for anyone but me, only if you know it's me".

Two knocks, pause, three quick knocks, pause, one knock, again on the bedside table.

She nodded, not pushing any further, though she was disappointed he had not answered her.

He'd quickly rushed from the room.

He looked exhausted. The man had not slept. Surely, the new King and his father, Lord Tywin would be keeping him very busy.

And now she sat, it being late afternoon, and still so painfully quiet. And speaking of pain, she had risen from the bed, pulling her gown down around her shoulders, exposing the dark purple and black bruise that covered her shoulder blade, ran down the middle of her back, and up her shoulder. Her whole shoulder was bruised. And it hurt terribly. She wondered if she had broken a bone, as the wood had broken behind her when he'd slammed her into the door.

Her stomach growled, and she sipped on water that Ser Jaime had brought in a pitcher. And she sat at the edge of the bed, looking at her hair in the mirror. Ser Jaime had insisted it must be cut immediately, upon his return for the night. Her hand stroked through the soft silver and blonde, as she sighed.

Her parents were gone forever. Jaime Lannister had triggered her parent's death. But could she blame him? The man had broken down, and had sworn to her, begged her to believe that he knew not of the terrible deaths that awaited any and every Targaryen. Almost any and every. He was young still himself, and she had known the man was being held as hostage. Sure, he continued to serve and live freely in his chambers, but he was not allowed to leave. Had he, it'd have meant his death. Even she knew that, of the handsome young knight of King's Guard. Lots of hushed words were spoken of him, in private. And surely, more than ever now.

Her friends and her used to watch him, valiant in his armor, and giggle about at how very handsome he was. Whenever he'd glance at them, a smirk pulling at his lips, they'd all turn quickly, nearly running off. Occasionally the man would wink at them as they passed, and the girlish giggles could not be contained.

He didn't look the same to her, now. His eyes where darker around the edges. They sagged with sleeplessness. And he constantly had a grim, depressed look in his eyes. He no longer smiled, that handsome smile, that drove all the girls to foolish giggle fits.

His green eyes reflected the horror that they'd witnessed. His jaw was tight, as if he was constantly fighting back tears.

No, she found it very hard to blame the Traitor Knight.

She never liked her uncle Aerys. It was a terrible thing to say, but he was a terrible man. She felt guilt, as it wasn't his fault his mind was gone, but he was wicked. She wasn't ignorant nor blind to the terrible things he'd done. The Stark men, father and son, there was not a word for something so cruel.

She feared him to be honest, and there were times when Ser Jaime's company had actually brought her comfort. But if he hadn't killed the mad man, would her parent's still breath? What had he meant, when he'd repeatedly said that if he had not, everyone, herself, him, all of King's Landing, would be dead.

Was the boy exaggerating simply to justify it to himself? Was he only helping her due to his guilt? And how long would that last?

Her eyes went to the dagger that laid before her once more. She stared at it for a few moments, before her hand reached out, picking it up.

Two knocks came quickly at the door, and she once again jumped at the suddenness of them.

There was a pause, three quick knocks, pause, one knock, and she rose to her feet, the dagger still in her hand, her grip tightening, as she put her hand behind her back, hiding it from view.

She took a deep breath, and she walked forward, to let him in, her knuckles white around the handle of the dagger.

"What are you-", Ser Jaime asked, as he'd rushed in, noticing her standing with one hand behind her back.

"What are you doing?", he asked, suspiciously then.

And she noticed his hand move, to the hilt of his sword.