𝐆𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬 || 𝑾𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝑾𝒐𝒍𝒗𝒆𝒔 𝑪𝒓𝒚 𝑶𝒖𝒕

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐗𝐕: 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐫

꧁CHAPTER XV꧂

"SWEAR"
301 AFTER CONQUEST

꧁ JAIME ꧂

When he dreamed, he used to dream about Cersei. Cersei and her golden hair. Cersei and her jade green gowns and crimson jewelry, all of it laced with gold. Cersei and those green eyes like his, except even those had flakes of gold. Jaime dreamed of gold. Cersei and gold. But now, as of late, as the years have gone by, from captivity to Kingsguard, from that to a commander and finally a one-handed wanderer, Cersei had finally begun to loosen her claws that dug themselves deep into his heart and mind.

Even with the nightmares and the horrid thoughts about this and that, of past kings and current monarchs, of how dragons lived and how dragons died, Jaime had never slept better in his entire life.

But tonight, sleep alluded him.

Sleep was like chasing after a good dream once awake and alive, it was too fast. Grumbling to himself, Jaime lifted a hand and pinched his brow, blinking himself fully awake as the creaking cabin came into full view. A candle on the table was all there was besides flashes of lightning and rumblings of thunder that allowed him to see in the room.

"Oh, for fucks sake.."

He swung his legs over the side of the straight and narrow bed that felt more like a coffin without its cover, clutching his stomach with a groan. The ship rocked violently, shaking the remnants of sleep right out of him as he tried to stand, hunching over again as a sharp pain came to his stomach, threatening to come up as Jaime forced himself not to vomit.

Stumbling his way to the desk across the cramped cabin, he grabbed his sword and belt before it could fall of the table, taking a long moment to buckle it around his waist, struggling to do so with just the lone left hand before making his way to the steps leading to the upper deck.

Rain immediately soaked through his clothes, making his leathers weigh like a set of chain mail around his body as he stumbled forward. Men were running about, doing their jobs, maintaining the ship and allowing them to continue on with their journey. How they managed was beyond Jaime was the Lannister man was thrashed around by the rough sea.

"'Tis a lovely night, wouldn't ya say?"

Looking up, he saw Asha commanding the vessel with ease, up there on the helm. Beside her stood Theon, though still terribly weak and rather pathetic, he too almost seemed to stand with ease against the crashing waters, making Jaime a bit bitter as he stumbled up the steps, clutching the railing.

"Where the hell did this storm even come from?!"

He shouted.

"It was clear last night!"

"I told ya it was coming three days ago, Ser!"

Asha chuckled as even Theon seemed to smile a little.

"'Tis how the sea works, my friend!"

"And you're the expert on nature?"

It was stupid to even ask, as Jaime knew he knew nothing about the sea, only that water was wet and it was not a rather enjoyable experience to drown in it. Asha behind the wheel spun it a few times before catching it with one hand, giving him a glance with a smirk that asked are you stupid? Jaime already knew the answer but wouldn't give one as he scoffed, coming to stand beside Theon, though still clutching at a rail to hold on.