Running

Chapter Twelve

He felt someone shake him awake.
"Time for duty Golden Boy. Get up!" Someone said. Jaime groaned and rolled out of his bed. His uniform had been dumped by his bed.
He wondered about his new name. He supposed it beat Kingslayer. It would do.
He put on the new uniform he had been given - grey trousers and tunic, the direwolf on the overcoat. It felt strange wearing the Stark sigil rather than the Lannister one. He heard sniggers all around him. The proud lion doomed to serve the direwolf. It was either this or death. Jaime picked up the helmet.
Brander entered the barracks.
"Those serving the early shift with the King, go now. That includes you Golden Boy." Jaime felt his cheeks go red as he had outright laughs. He would not be humiliated by these men. He was older than a lot of them. He barged past them and was nearly past Brander when the commander grabbed his arm. Jaime met his eyes.
"Do as you're told, keep your mouth shut. I want good reports about you. Go." Brander released Jaime and with a steely glare, Jaime left. He put his helmet on. He soon caught up to the group he was meant to be with. He knew none of them, but that would change given time. Whether they got on, that would be a different matter. They made thier way to the main hall. A guard when they got there handed Jaime his new sword which he sheathed. He wasn't getting in trouble for having a drawn weapon. No-one trusted him still.
The eight guards there bowed in front of the King.
"Remove your helms," Jon said. He liked to know who was guarding him each day. They did, Jaime last. Jon's eyes scanned thier faces and rested on his.
"Ah," Jon said. "We have the newbie amongst the group. Keep an eye on this one," he instructed the others. Jaime rolled his eyes. "You may put your helms back on." They did and took up thier positions, Jaime behind Jon.
"How do you like being a Stark soldier, Lannister?" Jon asked the man. "It's not quite the Kingsguard is it?" Kings of the North didn't have thier equivalent of the Kingsguard, so usual guards took that role on rotation. Jaime ignored Jon.
Jon was sitting at the high table when a messenger came. He bowed to the King in the North.
"Your Grace, Daenerys Targaryen is sending an envoy up to Winterfell." Jaime's breath caught in his throat. If he was recognised, he was dead.
"Why?" Jon asked.
"She wants updates on the North in general, and in particular the ongoing manhunt for the Kingslayer." Jaime was glad he had his helmet on. He could feel eyes on him. Not from Jon, but from other people. The messenger was oblivious that he was standing in the room. They were on dangerous territory. "Her envoy will be here in two weeks. She isn't coming herself but instead sends her Hand, Tyrion Lannister." Jaime began fidgeting. Tyrion was coming? He would get to see his brother again and thank him? The guard next to Jaime elbowed him in the ribs.
"Stop. You're making it too obvious." Jaime nodded slightly and resumed his original position - his good hand on the hilt of his sword, on the side he normally didn't have it. It still felt strange. His gold hand just flopped uselessly by his side. The messenger departed. Jon rose from the table and walked down the hall, the guards falling into formation. Jaime had to follow the others. He had no idea what he was doing. His mind was buzzing. Tyrion was being sent to Winterfell. Not Daenerys. And Tyrion would be on his side and let him be.
"I'm going onto the battlements to speak to Ser Davos," Jon addressed his guards. "I only need half of your number. Raman, Olivar, Everan, Harrin, you will accompany me. Kingslayer, as much as I'd like to keep you close, we're having a conversation about your brother. I don't think it would be wise if you overheard it. The four I have dismissed can wait in the hall for me to return." The four guards mentioned walked away with Jon whilst Jaime and three others remained behind. Jaime understood Jon's point about not being there as they spoke about Tyrion but he wanted to know what he could about his brother. For all he knew they could be saying terrible things about him and Jaime being Jaime would get angry and attack, even in the situation he was in. He would be immediately arrested and in the dungeons and sent back to Daenerys Targaryen. The worst possible outcome.

His shift was over and Jaime was back in the barracks. His sword had been taken from him as promised. He knew tensions had been rising around him and at one point, it was all going to come to a head. It seemed that point was now.
"Oi, Golden Boy," one of the soldiers snapped. Jaime, annoyed, turned round.
"What?"
"I heard the last time you were in Winterfell, you pushed Bran Stark from the Broken Tower."
"So what if I did? Times have changed. He's most likely dead and guess who's not?" Jaime went back to what he was doing.
"Look, Kingslayer, things might be different down in the capital with your fancy clothes and warm castles, but in the North we have morals. We stand by our own no matter what. Bran Stark is one of our own and you damaged him. That comes with retributions."
"It already has. Your old King in the North, who is also dead I might add," Jaime paused, staring at the angry faces of the Northmen. "Had me locked up in his camp for a year. I confessed to his mother about Bran. It was years ago. It's done. Move on."
"Not for us." The man who had been doing all the talking grabbed his sword hilt as did ten or fifteen others. "And guess who's the only defenceless one in this room? And why might that be? Because no-one can trust you."
"What if I were to just steal one of your swords and pierce you?"
"A one-handed man against hundreds of us? Good luck with that, Golden Boy."
"Try me." The guard had his sword half unsheathed when a large presence broke up the party. Commander Brander had entered.
"What is going on here?" He demanded when he saw Jaime on one side and twenty soldiers on the other. No-one said anything and broke away from each other. "No matter. Golden Boy, the King wants a word. With me." Jaime followed Brander out.
"What happened in there?"
"It was like you said. They hate me. I can deal with it."
"They try and harm you, you come to me. I don't particularly care for you, Lannister, but I will not have my men treat you that way." Jaime merely nodded. He and Brander entered the main hall.
Only Jon and Davos were there. Both soldiers bowed.
"Kingslayer, how was your first day in my ranks?" Jaime glanced at Brander.
"Fine."
"The reason I asked you here is because tomorrow you will formally bend the knee and swear allegiance to me."
"I have sworn allegiance to four kings already. One was a madman and I killed him. The second was a drunk who was killed by a boar. The third... just cruel. And the fourth too young. What makes you different?" Jaime felt he needed Brienne in situations like this. She always knew to warn him when to keep his mouth shut.
"You do always have the options of captivity or King's Landing. Your choice."
"By asking if you were different didn't mean I was refusing to serve you. Yes, I will bend the knee."
"Dismissed." Jaime and Brander walked away. The commander was studying Jaime curiously. There was more to this man that met the eye, Brander thought.
"You did well Golden Boy. Tomorrow you will officially be one of us."
Acceptance. That was all Jaime wanted. He may hate the North, but if they accepted him, he could put up with them. That was all he was asking for.