The Way Of Winter | Robb Stark

ARYADNE - XXV

"WHERE EXACTLY DO YOU plan on taking me?"

"Home," Jaime gruffly answered, giving a tug on the rope that bound Aryadne's wrists. It had been fashioned in a hurry out of a grimy shirtsleeve.

They had not stopped walking since the escape. Now, sunlight bled across the tree-crested horizon. It chased at their backs. Jaime was taking her west. Once on his family's land, she supposed it would be easy to arrange guarded transportation back east to the Crownlands. Her pace slowed so that she could take a look at their surroundings. There was nothing but hills and woods for miles. In the distance, a plume of smoke marked the camp, beyond the thick woods they had wandered all night. She earned another sharp pull that almost sent her sprawling forwards. "Do you know what happened the last time I was taken to Casterly Rock?"

He did not humour her with a reply.

"I was kidnapped. By Lannister defectors, no less. They planned to ransom me off. One tried to rape me. I killed him."

It was enough to catch his attention, but not a single glance. He had not looked her in the eyes yet. His head bowed, the matted tangle of blond hair shifting with the movement and the tattered shoulders of his jacket tensing. "All the more reason to bring you back home. It's time you stopped playing Queen."

"I am not 'playing Queen', I am Queen," she spat.

Finally, he rounded on her. With his short, shaggy beard and blood-spattered face, he was almost unrecognisable. "You are a girl! A stupid, little girl with no idea of the danger she is in. I am taking you home, and you will come willingly or I shall drag you there. Either way, this ends. Have you even spared a thought for your poor mother? She'll be beside herself." 

She rolled her eyes. Another near-fall over a patch of mud sent her head spinning, almost knocking her off-balance. "Oh, please. I doubt she even noticed I was gone until one of her spies told her." Another tug on the rope prompted her to groan in annoyance. "Will you stop for just a second? Unless you'd rather drag my wearied corpse through the gates of Casterly Rock. I'd imagine there would be questions."

"The sooner we get there, the better."

This time, he pulled on the rope but she planted her feet and yanked back. It did not take long for her to regret it. Her dizziness had grown too extreme. Dark spots swam across her vision, multiplying until they became all she could see.

It was not long before she woke, though she could not bring herself to move. It seemed she did not have to. She could feel every step he took, the squeeze of his shoulder against her middle. Even when he set her down, she remained limp and barely conscious. Bit by bit, the ringing in her ears quietened and she could open her eyes. They had taken refuge under the low boughs of a spruce.

Jaime was leaning over her. Too groggy to push him away, she waited as he placed his rolled-up jacket under her feet. He sat against the trunk, forearms resting on his knees, and watched as she gradually came to. "Why were you there?"

Groaning, she tried to sit upright. "Nightmare," was all she managed to get out before turning to the side, retching as the familiar taste of bile burned up her throat. There was nothing to throw up, and yet her body still persisted. With each passing day it seemed to rebel against her more and more.

The last thing she expected was the sensation of his hand rubbing her back, the other gathering her hair away from her face. This gentleness was so unlike him. The Uncle Jaime she grew up around was proud and aloof. He had always had time to play with her siblings, but rarely her. Now she realised why. The instant she was done, she shoved him away from her. There was no use trying to run away in her state, so she curled up on the ground, trembling and clutching her cloak around herself.