Game of Thrones season 7 fanfiction

JAIME

         The march to the Mud gate was long and gloomy.

Cersei had enjoined thirty Lannister men including her own sweet brother to escort Randyll Tarly to the Red Keep in one shape.

Jaime Lannister was at the front, his russet gelding marching speedily. Cersei should have welcomed him herself, he thought sullenly. People often described Lord Randyll as a man thin of skin and quick tempered.

"I pray it doesn't rain." Jaime looked to his right. A black robed Qyburn was riding beside him on a crème stallion.

"My sister sent you too?" Jaime asked, dumbstruck. They took a right turn.

The Maester nodded. "A Hand must always represent his queen."

The weather was getting damp and heavy. The morning sky turned into an unwelcome shade of purple.

They rode in silence for a while, the hooves of their horses beating against the cobbled streets.

Qyburn cleared his throat. "If you permit, may I ask something?"

"It's a long way," Jaime replied dryly. He glanced back at the chattering Lannister soldiers. "And I can surely live without the noises of these pitiful shits for a while."

"Are you having any problems with your sister?"

It started to rain. Fat raindrops splattered against his head and trickled down his face. Jaime licked his lips.

"What happens between me and my sister remains between us," he said sternly. "Don't lose your sleep over it."

"I have no intention of affronting you," the Maester said softly. "But your sister feels some strain in your relationship."

Cersei's gotten herself a confidant, Jaime thought crossly. As if a trustful brother wasn't enough. He flashed the Maester a mocking grin. "I was wrong. I prefer the noises of Lannister soldiers than your empty words of advice."

He reined his horse and marched forward, ahead of Qyburn and the rest of them. He wished Bronn was there with him. The knight had been sent on a mission with a bunch of Lannister soldiers to rid the kingdom of the Brotherhood without banners. A thousand complains was all it took for my sister to lift a finger.

The rain stopped entirely by the time they reached the Mud Gate. Cold and soaking wet, Jaime Lannister brushed a hand through his matted here. Qyburn reined his horse next to him. They stood there for a while in icy silence.

The riders emerged from the woods in a sea of emerald, the Tarly banners rippling as they galloped. Jaime kicked his horse. Qyburn followed him hastily, along with a Lannister knight who bore their sigil. The raindrops had worked the mud into a slimy mess.

The Tarlys stopped as they saw him approaching. Jaime noticed a huntsman on their banners, surrounded by green.

A horsed bald man stood in the front. "Do I have the honour of approaching Lord Randyll?"

The man's cold eyes bore right into Jaime's. "Yes," he rasped. "And who is this fellow?" he said looking at Qyburn.

"Maester Qyburn, my lord, the Hand of the queen."

"This is my wife Melessa," he said nodding at a plump woman dressed in an ivory gown. "That's my son Dickon and next to him, my daughter Talla." Jaime glimpsed at the two adolescents and nodded. "I would have introduced you to my banners," Tarly went on. "But we're too wet and hungry. If only the queen could give us some bread and wine and light a nice fire for us..."

Jaime flinched for a bit. "At once," he told Randyll.

He turned to the Lannister host. "TURN BACK!"

He rode back into the city, Lord Randyll and Qyburn either on each side.

"I had expected your sister," Tarly admitted sourly.

"The queen had business with the crown," Qyburn replied at once. "She barely has time to breathe."

"What the devil is wrong with your hand?" Randyll asked Jaime. "Or is it just a show off? I am a Lannister, I have gold." He cackled.

Sharp of tongue, Jaime thought. The people were right. "I lost it while fighting," he said coolly. They marched ahead, leaving Qyburn behind.

"Not a surprise," said Tarly. "So what future do you have now? Jaime Lannister, one of the greatest warriors in the seven kingdoms and now just a futile soldier with a lustrous arm."

Jaime was used to taunts and mockery. Spending half of his life with Tyrion had prepared him for that. He remained silent.

They took a left turn. The road was narrow and muddy, with not a soul was on the streets. They kept on riding

At the end of the lane, a portly hirsute man stepped in front of them, clutching a crossbow. He was garbed a stained beige robe. The seven pointed star on his forehead stretched as he gritted his teeth. "Revenge," he snarled in a ghastly voice.

Jaime shifted in his saddle, tensed. "Leave us be, ser, we bear no harm..."

Six armed children carrying sharp knives appeared from nowhere. Five Lannister men moved to the front, preparing to attack as the children formed a chain in front of the host, blocking their path. "Revenge!" The chant was cold alarming.

"What bloody nuisance is this?" Randyll flared. He glared at the lead. "One more word and I'll have your fucking heads on a spike!!"

The bearded man smiled cruelly and aimed his crossbow at Randyll's chest. The bolt came at him, rapid and swift. Lord Tarly ducked and the bolt went swishing past him slamming into the shield of one of his soldiers.

Jaime didn't even have to utter a word. The soldiers, Tarly and Lannister dismounted and pinned all the seven Sparrows, pressing a knife on their throats.

"What in the seven hells are you waiting for?" Randyll Tarly blustered. "Kill them!"

"WAIT!" Jaime roared. "They are not ours to kill! The decision lies with Cersei. Tie them and take them to the castle."

"We could have ended it much earlier," Randyll Tarly argued. "Attacking a high lord! This crime is punishable by death!"

"Do not worry, Lord Tarly," he assured. "Cersei will deliver justice."