Kingslayer

Trapped

Kyra neared the gates of King's Landing. She joined the large queue forming to pay their way into the city. She only had two silver coins. She hoped it would be enough. She neared the man.
"What is your business here?" The man asked her wearily, sick of his job.
"I have business with Ser Jaime Lannister, the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. He is expecting me."
"Ser Jaime is unable to accept visitors at the moment. He is busy. I'm afraid you'll have to come again. He can't see anybody right now. He won't be allowed visitors until instructed otherwise." The guard was telling her exactly what Tywin had ordered them to say. Kyra found that odd. But he was a busy man, she supposed. He was just home after a long time away. He would have business to attend to.
What was she supposed to do now? And Jaime wasn't allowed visitors? What was happening in the Red Keep?

Jaime was in his second day as a prisoner to his own father. It sounded weird in his ears yet it was the truth. He couldn't believe his father had chosen that punishment for him above all others. Well, no, on second thoughts he could. This was Tywin Lannister.
The guards brought him his meals, of a much better standard than what he grew used to in the Stark camp. The maids came to do thier usual duties, but no-one spoke to him. People who had been in his service for years and he had grown a rapport with. His two days had been spent in complete solitude. The people who usually dealt with him throughout the day would have been warned by Tywin to keep their mouths shut. So many times Jaime had tried to get information out of them and they had said nothing. Jaime hadn't even been allowed to carry out his normal duties as a Kingsguard. Tywin had stopped even that. But the current King was Joffrey, and Joffrey couldn't make any decisions. So Tywin had manipulated and told him that Jaime was to be confined and he agreed as he would have done if Tywin had asked to have Jaime killed. If he made the right kind of reasons. It was a prison with comfort. That much he couldn't deny. And he wasn't being held in his chambers in the White Tower, which was his right as a knight of the Kingsguard. It was a completely separate room, not close to Tywin, Tyrion or Cersei's quarters. He was completely isolated even though he was closer to his family now than he had been in the last year. It was basic. A bed, a desk, a clothes rail. That was it. No sword, no armour, nothing that made him the man he was. Even at the Stark camp he was surrounded by soldiers, men who fought, spilled blood, and lived for it. He had reminders of what he would do when he was released. Here though in King's Landing, there was just nothing. Politicians and fancy lords. Jaime had no time for people like that. He lusted for the things he longed for. He wished for the day he could hold a sword and feel the blade slicing something. Tywin knew the best way to keep Jaime in line was to take away the one thing he loved and keep him in one place when he liked to roam free. Jaime had no idea how long his father planned to hold him here. A week, a month, he didn't know. But every day he would grow more and more frustrated. He would resent his father more and more. In the Stark camp, he knew why he was being held hostage. He served a purpose to Robb Stark advancing his war effort. He was a prisoner of war. And he accepted that. Here, he didn't have a purpose for his imprisonment yet he had to endure it anyway. And he couldn't accept that so well. The only purpose he could think of was Tywin's ego. And surprisingly what he also found worse was the freedom even inside that very room. His wrists were free of chains and he was able to walk around, even onto the balcony overlooking King's Landing. He had a little fresh air when he needed it. But that was the problem. Being able to move made him fidgety, agitated at times. He'd find himself often thinking he had a sword in his hand or feeling the need to and finding out that in reality he didn't. While he may have been chained by the wrists and neck to a pole by Robb, at least knowing he was bound so tightly and enclosed, he could do absolutely nothing. He knew there was no point in even trying. This was different. He was in a familiar place, needing to do what he felt familiar doing. Jaime looked out over the balcony which was situated to look over at the main gates.
He saw a slim, brown haired girl being turned away, a sad expression on her face. From where he was it looked like Kyra. But as she turned her face, he knew he was right. Plus, by the colours and style of what she was wearing, he knew where she'd come from instantly. He'd spent the last year looking at that uniform. She was far away but he could recognise her straight away. It was Kyra. She was too far away to hear him. And if he shouted, the guards would be in here. Thinking back to that beating Stark's men had given him, he did not want a repeat of that under any circumstances. As he walked back over to the bed, the limp was still there but nowhere near as bad as it had been before.
He wished he could talk to her, to try to make her see sense. For one she was wearing the Stark uniform. He was surprised the gold cloaks hadn't snatched her off the streets already, simply for wearing the uniform she was. She should have changed into something different. If she was in King's Landing, that also meant she wanted or needed something. And that was most likely him, he thought. He needed to see her, but how could he when his father wouldn't let him go?