Kingslayer

Sickness

Kyra was brought before Robb again. The girl was so nervous, Robb knew he had to be gentle around her. Kyra went to kneel but Robb told her to remain standing.
"Did you sleep well Kyra?"
"Yes Your Grace."
"Call me Robb. So have you made your decision?"
"Yes Your- Robb. I will be your medic."
"Great. Kyra, thank you. That's a great help to me. You will be given your own sleeping quarters and will tend to our wounded when you need you."
"OK, thank you."

As Kyra had been speaking to Robb, the guards outside Jaime's cell had switched duty. One came on that really got on Lannister's nerves. He didn't know his name but he hated him. The man never left him alone, he continually taunted Jaime. He knew how to rise above it but it drove into him. He saw this man over and over again and it never stopped.
The man had started again and Jaime had gotten into so much of a rage that he didn't feel himself take a turn. He started shivering uncontrollably. The other guard looked in, panic written on his face. As much as they hated the Kingslayer, they couldn't let him get ill and die.
"Get the King," he said to the annoying guard. He did as he was told. Kyra and Robb were still talking when the man burst in. Robb saw the man sweating and panicked.
"What is it?" He asked, clearly annoyed that he'd been interrupted.
"It's Lannister, Your Grace. He's... I don't know. He's ill I think." Robb's face went grave. He'd been dreading the day something happened to Jaime.
"Kyra, come. Your first patient awaits." The three of them rushed back to Jaime's cell. The man himself was laid on the floor, a mess. Kyra's eyes widened.
"Unlock the cell, remove the chains,take him to my tent and strip him." Robb was surprised how this shivering, timid girl could become a ferocious leader when she needed to.
"Can't remove the chains," the annoying guard said, looking to Robb for permission. Robb raised an eyebrow at Kyra and slightly shook his head.
"Look I can't tend to him if he's chained up. It's not like he's going to be doing much just now. If he dies, it's on your head. If he dies, you don't get Sansa or Arya back. They'll probably be killed too. Unchain him and bring him to my tent." The guards looked at Robb. He paused for a second before nodding. The cell was opened and the guards made quick work of un chaining Jaime. There was six guards in the cell. Four of them picked the man up and lifted him to the tent Kyra had only spent one night in. They weren't letting him entirely go free. After they'd stripped him, they attached one of his wrists to the pole holding up the tent.
"Now, give me space," Kyra commanded.
"Four of you stay in the tent but give her the space she needs to do what she needs to do." He knelt down beside the girl. "Do what needs to be done. Save him, please. Get one to come and get me if there's developments." Kyra nodded. Robb left the tent, his mind full of doubt. If Jaime Lannister died, he lost. If Tywin's eldest son was to die, there'd be no end to the revenge he'd enact on the King in the North. No, Robb needed Jaime healthy enough. Lannister's cousin, Alton, had not yet departed. Robb went to meet him by the stables. Robb had decided to leave Jaime's sudden illness out of his letter to the Crown. That would rile them up too much. They would crush him with thier entire forces to get the Lion of Lannister back if they knew he was on the verge of death. Robb just hoped Kyra could do her job properly and bring the man back.

Kyra ordered one of the men to get her water and a cloth, some milk of the poppy and a spare change of clothes. The guards insisted they didn't have anything but Kyra told them to cobble something together. She started by cleaning all the mud and blood off his body. There was so much of it that the guards had to change the water multiple times. Once she could actually see skin she put a hand to his forehead. Jaime was burning up and breathing short, quick breaths. He was fighting to keep his eyes open but eventually gave in and passed out. This wasn't looking good. Kyra got cold cloths and put them all over him. She spent ages working on him. The man was a mess. The beatings he had received had taken thier toll. His wrists and neck were red raw from the chains that constantly bound him. She defied the guards orders and unshackled Jaime's wrist. One of the guards in the room caught on and started to call out when another shushed him. Kyra forced milk of the poppy down Jaime's throat. The guard who went to get the clothes came back with a simple pair of trousers and a shirt. She put the trousers on him but left the shirt for the moment.
"Come on Jaime," she whispered. It would be a long night.