The Lannister Wolf Series

Chapter Four

Jaime strained against his bonds but even with two hands it had been difficult. Now, with one hand and weak from loss of blood, it was useless.

He knew that while he had convinced them to leave Brienne unharmed last time, this time Locke would just completely ignore him.... A bleeding man with no right hand, covered in mud and his own blood, his severed hand tied around his neck.

"You really think that will sway me?" Locke inquired, crouching in front of Jaime in a teasing manner. "What will you offer this time? Your other hand?"
Jaime could barely keep his head up, but he glared daggers at the man. "You're testing your luck."
Locke hooted with laughter before standing up, "You've really fallen from your high and mighty position haven't you Kingslayer? Last night you were so brave and full of witty comments. Would it be safe to assume that with the loss of a limp comes the loss of sarcasm?"

Jaime gritted his teeth, forcing himself to not say anything for he knew it would only make things worse. Locke opened his mouth to taunt Jaime further when something caught his attention. The light of the fire seemed to dim and when he looked at it, he saw that the flames had indeed gone down so that they barely gave any light.

"Relight the fire," he ordered one of the men.

The man rushed over and seeing that there was still plenty of wood on the fire, was about to bring it up to Locke but thought better of it and threw another log onto the fire. For a split second it relit but then it went down again.

Locke snapped his head in the soldier's direction, "Don't use a wet log idiot!"
The soldier shook his head, "The firewood is as dry as paper sir... it just... stopped burning."
Locke grunted in annoyance and grabbing a nearby log, approached the fire. He was just about to throw it in when he jumped back in shock for the log in his hands had suddenly burst into flames!
"What is going on!?" one of the soldiers asked in horror.

All eyes landed back on the fire, only to see something that made their blood boil. A small lick of flame seemed to move itself out of the campfire before leaping across the soiled earth. It was not the fact that the flame was moving itself that surprised the men, nor the fact that the flame was still burning on soil where there was nothing to keep it burning.... But rather the shape that it began to take.

The lick of flame's shape began to change and for a moment it looked like a dog of some sort with a longer tail.... Until it grew in length till it was about a foot long and spreading from its sides were what looked like a pair of wings.... a dragon!

The flaming dragon did not stop moving as it bounded around the clearing, purposely running along the edge of the clearing, lighting a long stripe of earth on fire so that the whole camp was surrounded by a ring of fire. The campfire was now blazing much stronger than it should have, and the small fire dragon had disappeared but none of the men really cared for their eyes had landed on the first human figure that had appeared that night.

The figure slowly strode toward the camp before walking clear through the ring of fire, not even registering the heat and the person's clothes not catching on fire. No one present could really make out much of the person's attire. The person was garbed all in black and while the cloak the person wore concealed a great deal of their outfit, those present could make out the slender legs, slim waist and shape of a woman's bosom.

"Well, well," Locke smirked, his confidence returning, "What do we have here? Let's see, are you by any chance the giant woman's little sister? Or better yet, the Kingslayer's lover? Can't quite decide since your face is all covered up."
Jaime and Brienne exchanged looks, knowing full well that the stranger wasn't either, but they were just as clueless as the Boltons and Locke.