✅️ The Last Velaryon - Robb Stark

44 - Claiming House Tully

Haelesa's pov - House Frey

The flickering candlelight danced across Jaime Lannister's scarred face, highlighting the cynical amusement playing on his lips. The scent of woodsmoke and something faintly floral – a desperate clinging to a past life – filled the air of the dilapidated tavern.  I had snuck off to his chambers and begged him to speak with me, for I doubt I would ever get another chance.

"So, my former Lady wife Haelesa Velaryon, wed to the... let's call him 'robustly unpleasant' Lord Frey now seeks my assistance," Jaime murmured, swirling his wine. "Explain to me how exactly you went from being the young wolf's queen to now a prisoner to a weak old man."

I met his gaze, my eyes, the same startling violet as her father's, brimming with a desperate hope that clashed sharply with the grim reality of her situation. "Jaime, I love Robb. When the Red Wedding took place Frey would have killed my family, Chezney, Tyrion, Robb and myself.  I sacrificed my happiness to spare their lives. But now...now I need to escape from him before he likely kills me trying to get an heir in my womb."

Jaime knew the Freys. He'd dealt with them, from a considerable distance. Their lecherous smiles and blood-soaked history were enough to curdle even his hardened heart. "And what makes you think I, of all people, would help you?" Jaime asked, his tone laced with a familiar blend of arrogance and weariness.

I hesitated, then pulled a small, intricately carved box from her reticule. Inside, nestled on faded velvet, lay a single napkin with the golden lion sigil stitched into it.– a Lannister heirloom, undoubtedly worth a king's ransom. "This," I said, my voice gaining strength, "belongs to your house and came from your brother when he came to our camp."

"Tyrion's alive." The former Knight of the Kingsguard set his cup down and scooted to the edge of his chair in an attempt to get closer to me.

I leaned closer, my voice dropping to a whisper, "I offer another... a promise of... discretion. Tyrion now sits on my lover war council. We spared his life when Renly Baratheon wished him dead.  And so let's say I may be able to offer you the same agreement if you bring me back to my true husband."

"Little Velaryon has jokes now I see." Jaime chuckles dryly under his breath.

Bringing a hand up to my forehead I hit my hands lightly on the wooden table.  "I'm being serious.  Robb will listen to me if you help return me to him."

Jaime's interest piqued. He knew enough to understand that a woman in Haelesa's position, desperate and connected, would have access to secrets that powerful men would kill for. "Tell me about your escape plan," he said, his gaze sharp.

Unfolded a crude map, tracing a route leading away from the Frey's stronghold. I spoke of bribed guards, hidden passages, and a waiting ship at a remote cove. She painted a picture of daring, of risk, and of a desperate woman's will to reclaim her life.  "Violet will tip the guards off with some wine until they get so drunk they pass out.  After that we can slip me away on a small boat and sail until we reach where you're men are. Then I will ride to House Tully with you to reunite with Robb."

"It's audacious," Jaime admitted, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. "Foolish, even. But... intriguing." He considered my offer – and I could see the expression on his face change.

Reaching across the table I took his real hand in both of my hands, eyes filling with tears.  "The night I let you out to escape Robb's camp you told me to run with you and I refused.  I didn't see that a small part of you cared for my safety.  This time I'm asking for your help."