No Longer a Bastard

III

Jaime Lannister hated travelling for a long time. He hated joining the royal caravan which is now heading to the North, to Winterfell to be more specific. And as a matter of fact, he hated their destination because he'll meet the man who wrongly judged him after he saved thousands of people from dying.

Although he doesn't really want to be there, he had no choice. He was a Kingsguard, his duty was not for himself but for his king, he was bound to protect the fat man who his sister calls as husband. He hated the man, hated him for being fat and loud, hated him for his drunken behaviour and lastly for dishonouring his sister by having whores in his bed and striking her whenever he is angry.

But he has no choice though, being a Kingsguard was the only way that he can be with the woman he loves, Cersei. His twin sister. They were meant to be together, they came into this world his hand wrapped on Cersei's feet following her outside their mother's womb and one day, the two of them will also die together. He loved her fiercely and she the same.

If anyone knew of their relationship and tells him that it is wrong and disgusting, he will question them. Because how can something so wrong feel so right and beautiful?

But of course, they won't understand, they didn't feel what he felt anyways, they won't know the happiness that his twin has brought into his life. They won't understand because they were not him. They were enemies. Anyone who isn't us is an enemy. Cersei once told him and he believed her of course!

As soon as they finally reached the gates of the great keep, the caravan marched inside. People flocked on the roads and bow down to their king, men, and women, children, young and old. They bow down to the man who was now riding in front, his head lifted highly. Finally they stopped when they arrived in front of the castle doors.

Jaime looked at the large family in front of them. The Starks, he studied each one of them from the man who despised him for killing Aerys Targaryen up to the smallest auburn haired boy who seemed to be fidgeting as he kneeled before his king.

But a sight had caught his eye, not only his but everyone who is knowledgeable of history and of the events in the Tourney of Harrenhal.

"Lyanna?" 

Robert's voice broke down the silence. His voice seemed to tremble and it sounded like a sob, he was moving towards the girl kneeling down a few meters behind Ned Stark. Even if she doesn't lift her head, Jaime knew that the girl a splitting image- no the girl can be the twin sister of Lyanna Stark or maybe her reincarnation. The resemblance is too much that it seemed like they were looking at the ghost of the King's dead fiancée. He may have been young when the tourney happened but even if years have passed, the image of the very girl who started the war was still embedded in his mind.

The scene kept on repeating on his mind, Prince Rhaegar mounting on his horse, a wreath of winter roses on his hand, slowly going towards the Northern beauty, carefully placing the rose on her lap naming her as his Queen of Love and Beauty, Lyanna then smiling sweetly at Rhaegar. It hunted his dreams at night and sometimes the scenes were changing and instead of Prince Rhaegar, he finds himself riding the very same horse, wearing his golden armour with a roaring lion and placing the winter roses on the lap of a brown haired girl who looks exactly like Lyanna Stark.

His heart started to beat furiously as he watched the girl look up at Robert in question, her face; it was the very same face that he encountered in his dreams. He remembered because her features were even softer and more delicate than the deceased woman. But how could he possibly dream of a girl he only saw today?

Robert just stood there, gaping at the young lady who was looking at him in question giving Jaime a time to scrutinize her appearance. She was must be sixteen or seventeen, her long wavy brown hair was cascading on her back, her eyes were the deepest set of grey eyes he ever saw, her cheek bones were firm and regal, her nose was small but aristocratic. She was also very pale, pale as the purest snow and her lips were as red as blood. She was a beauty and almost could rival Cersei's, when her sister was a picture of fierceness and fuelled fire, the girl was a vision of gentleness, purity, a cold beauty.