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"DO you pity me?"
Laila glanced to Jaime beside her. She thought both him and Brienne were asleep, since the lady knight was snoring soundly. Laila had been leaning back on a rock, trying to keep the fire going in front of them. Besides a man keeping watch over the Bolton army, she thought she was the only other person awake. She had been staring at the stars before Jaime disturbed her with his question.
She quirked a brow upwards. "Do you pity me?"
"You didn't answer my question."
"You didn't answer mine," Laila said.
Jaime groaned a bit as he shifted in his spot. He moved more to her side, so he could be closer. One of his ears seemed to be blocked for a few days, and he could only really hear out of his left ear. He rubbed his hand – his one hand – on his leg. "I don't –" he cleared his throat "– I don't pity you."
Laila paused, staring at him with a skeptical expression. After a moment, she replied, "I don't pity you either."
"But my depression makes you emotional?"
She shrugged. "I guess."
"I'm not depressed."
Laila viewed at Jaime, and then released a chuckle. It came out soft and sweet, but he knew there was mockery behind it. He furrowed his brow. "Why are you laughing?"
"Because you, Kingslayer – of all people – would deny being depressed," she laughed on. Laila then pointed to his form. "I mean, look at you. It's like you wrote it on your forehead with ink."
Jaime rolled his eyes, becoming quiet. He quickly glanced over at the handmaiden, who was flexing her wounded hand back and forth. She winced at the pain before unwrapping the cloth tied around the hand. It was getting infected.
"You should have one of them clean that up," Jaime muttered.
Laila tsked. "Like any of them would do that. We're prisoners, don't forget." She nodded her chin towards his stump. "Gods, they took off your sword hand. Who knows what they'd do to my infected wound."
"Maybe next time you shouldn't grab the tip of my sword to stop me," Jaime spat.
"Maybe next time you shouldn't piss off the man who's holding you prisoner," Laila said, eyes going back and forth from his stump to his eyes. "You'd probably still have that hand."
Jaime leaned forward. "I was saving you," he whispered loudly. He gestured with his head over to Brienne. "I lied to save both of you. Because I decided to be a good man, I lost a hand. Don't you dare try to pit my loss against me."
Laila looked down at her own hand. She didn't reply, because she knew he was right. She wrapped the cloth around her infected wound again. "You said before, 'Let them have what they want. What does it matter?'" Laila repeated his words, looking to the fire. She licked the corners of her lips. "What changed your mind?"
Jaime flicked a rock into the flames. "I had a change of heart."
"That's hard to believe." She slowly lifted her eyes to his. Her lips went into a thin line. "Why won't you tell me, or Brienne?"
Jaime paused. He bit the inside of his cheek and sighed. "I thought about ... if I were a woman." He frowned. "It's not normally something I'd like to think about, but I did. I heard you both scream, and I felt it. It pained my heart. I thought about how I'd have them kill me if I were in that situation. I thought about how much you both probably wanted to die, and I ..." He then groaned, frustrated that he had to release his innermost thoughts. "I knew I couldn't let you die before I got back to King's Landing. Gods know this lot isn't going to take me there."
Laila giggled softly. Jaime liked the sound. "You believe in the gods?"
"Yes," he said, as if it were obvious. "What do you believe in?"
"Whatever's out there," she replied with a snort.
Jaime wanted to believe that when he looked at Brienne and Laila, he saw his sister. Actually, he tried to see her wherever he went. But when Jaime Lannister saw Laila Ryswell smile, he thought of the gods. "Whatever's out there," she said, but what if one of those – the gods – was her? Why did a woman who was as good as Lannister gold decide to depart on a mission she was greatly unqualified for and didn't want to do? Jaime could only think of one answer: she was a good person. He wanted to be that.
"So ... you envy me," Jaime muttered. "Can I ask why?"
Laila's one earring jingled in the wind as she viewed up. She lost the other earring during their journey. "You're a Lannister," she said. "Your family may be terrible, but that doesn't stop from your loins being filled with gold. The Ryswells gave my family shit. They were so ... angry at my father for marrying a lowborn." She felt herself growing sad again, but she didn't dare shed a tear. "I want what you have."
"Don't envy me, Laila. Pity me." He held up his arm. "Look at me. I have one hand. My father hasn't done anything to retrieve me back. You ... you have people who care for you. Lady Stark cares for you. The Ryswells may have left you in the dust, but the Starks have always been there. You have more than you know."
Laila rubbed at her arms. "Are you really going to argue with me about who has it better?"
"Honestly," he replied, "look at us three. None of us have it particularly well."
Laila giggled again. It sounded like bells ringing from the Great Sept. It was something innocent, almost pure-like. Jaime's eyes saw nothing of his sister. He only saw Laila Ryswell, because she was unique and original. He needed to stop trying to see his sister in everything. Cersei could not be his whole world, because there were so many other things in the realm to cherish.
Jaime felt like kissing her then. He never had a problem kissing girls, or receiving one from them. Women were always willing to be around him, but this woman next to him was different. She was more different than his sister and Brienne combined. She was everything and anything.
Laila Ryswell was wind chimes blowing in the air. She was the scent of a fire burning on a cold night. She was the giggles of highborn children, running through the Red Keep. She was the sweat that trickled down your brow while making love to your partner. She was the singing of the birds in the morning. She was all of these things and more.
And because of all of this, Jaime Lannister sat back and said nothing. He closed his eyes at the same time she did and fell asleep.
