Game of Thrones Imagines Book Two

Fate - Part 3 - Jaime x Reader

"Can you see her?" Jaime called out to the others, as they ran through the throng of people. Tormund jumping up onto a stone water trough so that he could look over the heads of the populous, that milled around the congested city.

"Not a thing. I can't see er anywhere." Tormund bellowed over the hum of human voices. Jaime fear stricken as he continued to push his way through the mass of bodies.

How could he lose her? He had only just got her back into his life, and he had let her go into a city that she had never been in before. A city that was full of danger. Full of thieves and cut throats. Full of people that would happily do you harm. And as good as she had been with a sword when she was a child, that didn't mean she had retained the same skill. And anyway, it wasn't as if she was armed, was it. If anything happened to her. If she was...........If anyone dare touch even so much as a single hair on (Y/n)'s head, he would kill them. And as much as he hated to admit it, he would take great delight in doing it.

Jaime was sure that the heavens were against him. And it didn't seem to matter how many times Robb told him that it was not true, Jaime couldn't help but believe that he was cursed. First there had been his relationship with Cersei. The scandals. A hanging that had never happened. And now, now he had lost (Y/n). All of it seeming to suggest that the Gods hated him. And at this present moment in time, Jaime couldn't help but hate them back.

Suddenly, Tormund saw some of the citizens make their way through one of the backstreets to a courtyard that he knew lay behind the buildings. The big man was well aware that there were only two reasons that the people of Paris would run like that. They were either running away from a fight so that they didn't find themselves caught up in it. Or, and this seemed more likely to the big man, seeing as they were running towards the courtyard and not away from it, that they were after watching a fight. The smallfolk of Paris never averse to a little entertainment. A good sword fight always sure to break up the monotony of everyday life.

"Jaime! I think a found our lady." Tormund called out. The other Musketeers quickly making their way over to where the large red head still stood on the stone trough.

"Well? Where is she?" Jaime demanded to know. Not sure what to think as Tormund jumped down onto the dirt floor beneath him, the big man drawing his sword.

"If I'm right, ya girl might just be as handy with a sword as she ever was. But I would suggest that we go find her, just in case." Tormund said cryptically. The others looking at one another momentarily, before drawing their own swords and following after Tormund through the crowd. The sound of excited chatter filling the air. The words "a lady" and "the Cardinal's men" reaching Jaime's ears as he rushed to catch up with Tormund who was pushing people out of the way. Growling and huffing at anyone that dare not move.

Suddenly they were in the courtyard. The Musketeers watching on in disbelief as there in the middle of all the chaos, all the noise, was (Y/n). Her now tattered skirts flying up with every turn and spin. The four Cardinal's men fighting her, in as much disbelief as the Musketeers, as the lady thrust and parried. As she blocked and countered every one of their blows. It was obvious to even a blind man, that Baelishs' buffoons were outmatched. (Y/n) was poetry in motion. She made the whole thing look so easy. As if she knew each of her opponents moves before they did. As if she were playing a deadly game of chess. A game that she knew that she had already won.

Jaime could see a hint of blood on her skin. The Musketeer not sure whether it was hers or her opponents. But either way, the sight of the crimson made his own blood boil. Angered that these cowards would dare raise a sword against a lady. Yet as he tried to make his way over to help (Y/n), he found himself stopped. His eyes growing wide as he found that the hand gripping his arm, was that of Robb.

"Let me go. I have to help." Jaime growled, trying to pull away. Further angered as the crowd suddenly laughed as (Y/n) kicked one of the men in the backside. The man fumbling and stumbling as he tried his best to get his feet. The coward finally managing to get up, only to race out of the courtyard in the other direction like a dog. His life, though not his honour, intact.

"No, Jaime. Let her do this. I think that she has got it in hand. And I may not know her like you do. But I have a feeling that if we go barging in there and think that we are saving the day, (Y/n) won't be very happy. We will be here if she needs us." Robb reasoned, as he placed his sword back in its sheath. Tormund and Jon following suit, as they continued to watch the lady make fools of the supposedly great Cardinal's men.

Jaime hated to admit that his friend was probably right. That (Y/n) would not be pleased if he were to treat her like a damsel in distress. Yet could he really let the woman he loved, face three men all by herself? Then, without warning, a thunderous cheer from the massed crowd went up. Jaime turning to see that the Cardinal's men had given up the fight, and were running from the scene, dragging their cut and bruised bodies off in the direction that their compatriot had scurried off to, with his tail firmly between his legs, only moments before.

"Oh, there you are." (Y/n) said with a huge smile as she came up to the amazed Musketeers. Members of the crowd patting her on the back and saying that they had never seen anyone better with a sword in their lives. And congratulating her for putting the four, odious men in their place.

"I would have asked you to join in the fun. But as you saw, they were nothing that I couldn't handle." (Y/n) chuckled. Robb, Tormund and Jon smiling broadly as (Y/n) pulled back her skirt and slipped her blade back into its sheath. The lady squeaking slightly as Jaime pulled her into his arms and held her tight.

"Are you alright, (Y/n)? I thought I had lost you. You could have been hurt, or worse. What were you thinking? You should have let us deal with those men." Jaime told her. (Y/n) huffing as she struggled out from his grasp.

"I will have you know, great golden lion, that I do not need your help when it comes to dealing with fools like that. I am still perfectly capable of looking after myself, thank you. In fact, I was having fun, so it is good that you did not come to my supposed rescue. And I was thinking that I was defending my honour if you must know. I have my father's name to uphold.........." (Y/n) began indignantly. Her tone changing as she saw the look of concern in Jaime's eyes.

"Jaime." (Y/n) said softly as she moved closer again. Placing a soft hand on his cheek. Neither of them noticing as the crowd slowly began to disperse around them, and the other Musketeers tried to look at anything else, but at the two old friends.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped at you. And thank you for worrying about me so much. But, I assure you that I am alright. I think that I may have a small cut, but other than that I am fine. And I promise you that you haven't lost me yet, my sweet lion. Even after all these years, you are still the young man that I adored." (Y/n) told him, as Jaime's arms instinctively wrapped themselves around (Y/n)'s waist and pulled her close. Their eyes lost in one another's gaze. Jaime sure that (Y/n) had somehow made time stand still. That at that moment, nothing else existed but the two of them. (Y/n)'s delicate hand ghosting over his slightly stubbled chin and up into this hair. Her fingers wrapping themselves in his thick blonde hair, as their mouths moved closer and closer until they met in the most glorious of kisses. Jaime knowing that he could not lose her to another man. And humble Musketeer or not, he had to make (Y/n) his, as he should have done all those years before.