•𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖉𝖚𝖘𝖙 • Jaime Lannister OC

✹twenty six✹

╣as soon as the children could walk they were holding swords╠

Essos would have been beautiful if they weren't on the streets every other night. The thought crossed Rhena's mind almost every second of the day and she hated the way that she couldn't enjoy the new sights around her.

Daenerys, Aryen, and Tyros were wrapped against Rhena's breast, secured by a torn up dress of Rhaella's and Viserys was almost always clutched to her side. The Targaryen and Lannister name meant next to nothing across the Narrow Sea. Essos was far too caught up with their own politics and kings to be concerned with the Iron Throne.

So Callan worked for coin. And when he did not Rhena did. Her skilled hands shaped for easy life and embroidery were put to use in a linens shop, sewing and mending fabrics. She carried her sword with her everywhere and it was the first time in her life when she could do so freely. In Westeros, Rhena couldn't go anywhere with a blade without receiving scorn from someone. Now, in Braavos, no one even cast her a glance.

Dara, the woman who owned the linens shop, was a loud woman with a louder presence. She adored Rhena's children. All three, for Rhena passed Daenerys off as a sibling to her sons. Dara often commented on her silver hair and how rare it was.

Rhena dyed it black with soaked tree bark the day after the comment was made. Memorable traits were dangerous especially when assassins were being sent by Robert and Cersei Baratheon.

Over the next few years, they made their way to Pentos. The children were large enough to walk and they had sold most of their possessions for food. Rhena had been in close contact with Varys the Spider who had informed her that there was a man willing to house her and her children if monthly payments were made.

Daenerys was a quiet child opposed to the twins who would talk as long as they were able. Callan and Rhena feared that she was mute for she was five and had not yet said a word. "Perhaps it's the Targaryen incest." Callan suggested one night over a shared bowl of stew. Rhena had only frowned and nodded, for wasn't she a product of the same evils as Daenerys?

Callan noticed her mood and she woke to her favorite cream oats in the morning and a note of apology.

When Daenerys spoke her first, it was directed towards Rhena who cried that night. The word was mamma and Rhena didn't have the heart to tell her otherwise.

Rhena and her children, along with her two siblings all slept in the same feather bed, all scrunched together in the sea air. It was the only time that Viserys ever spoke to her. He had become bitter during their five years away from Westeros. Rhena was having a far better time adjusting to life away from watching eyes and gold and comfort than him. That in itself was very clear. At three and ten, the lost prince longed for his kingdom and his mother. Though he didn't show longing for the latter as much as he did for the former.

The day that they sold their mother's crown was the day that Viserys' childhood died. He was only ten and one, but the memory of Rhaella's last possession being sold had fed a darkness in him that Rhena was honestly afraid of. She was a large part of his early days but the two years that she had been in the West, Viserys had been at their father's side. It worried her.

As soon as the children could walk, they were holding swords. Though she showed promise, Daenerys didn't find much interest in the way of the blade. Nor did Tyros who preferred to study with his aunt in the vast library of the nameless man who was letting them use his home. Over the year that they had been living with him, they had received no name nor information about him.

Aryen however, had inherited the natural gift of weaponry that his father and mother had before him. At seven, he held a sword with more grace and control than Viserys and at nine, he could throw a dagger with precise accuracy. He loved it as much as Rhena did as a child and most of their time spent together was in the training yard with a weapon in hand.

Both of her sons looked like Jaime. Their hair held a golden glitter passed from Lannister to Lannister and their faces mirrored his to a point. Rhena had forgotten Rhaegar's face over the years, but she was glad that she would never be able to forget Jaime's. Aryen and Tyros wouldn't let her.

Rhena never withheld information about their father from them. As children, their bedtime stories consisted of the adventures of Rhena's childhood with Jaime. They heard so many stories so many times that Rhena's memories had become their own. If they ever referred to Jaime, they spoke as if they were alive when Jaime was with them. "Mother do you remember when father would..." Rhena didn't mind but she hoped that one day her sons would be able to make their own adventures and memories with their father instead of living through hers.

Viserys' words were not so kind when he spoke of his goodbrother. In his eyes, Jaime had betrayed them. Jaime was Viserys' brother in all but blood and he had stabbed his father in the back and taken the throne for Robert Baratheon.

None of them knew the reason for Jaime's actions but Rhena was just glad that her father's madness was gone. There was a large stain on their name in the form of Aerys Targaryen and Rhena was relieved that he was gone and washed away from the fabric of their house.

It was money and honor which called Rhena away from her family. A merchant they had come across in Braavos years prior had hinted to a Meereen noblewoman that a woman of great skill of blade roamed the continent freely and was always open for service. Rhena and Callan had saved the merchant from a gang of thieves on the road and he had payed them generously. Never had it been implied that Rhena demanded money. Though the sum which the woman was willing to pay was too much to pass on.

So the day after the children's ten and one nameday, Rhena rode for Meereen. Tyros had cried when she left, so did Daenerys. Aryen and Viserys however, stood silent next to Callan who would be watching over them for as long as Rhena was gone.

The ride to Meereen was though long, uneventful. Rhena's horse was strong and the trip only took a week. Still, she was glad to be led to a warm bed when she arrived in the huge city.

Lady Mondera of Meereen was a kind woman. She had slaves.

King Aerys was not a kind man. But he had Rhena.

It had taken her many years for Rhena to understand that many are not what they seem.

Lady Mondera had demanded Rhena's services much as one would a sell-sword. The money which she received was earned by being a decorated guard dog. Much like Jaime was to her father. What Rhena got, she sent back to her siblings and children. It was more than Rhena had made in her ten years of exile. For two years she stayed away, gathering as much wealth as possible to keep her family alive.

On a particularly scorching afternoon when Rhena had been given the day off, she received a scroll sealed by a Targaryen crest.

Daenerys was being married to a horse lord for an army. The paper crumpled between Rhena's fingertips. If there was one thing that she had always promised her sister, it was that when the time came, Daenerys would choose the one which she would marry. Not Viserys or Callan or Rhena herself. Daenerys.

It seemed that Viserys was growing impatient for his crown.

No one could find Rhena the next day when Lady Mondera called upon her.