The Long Winter | Jaime Lannister X Stark OC | GOT/ASOIAF

Intents And Purposes

They arrived in King's Landing a month after leaving Winterfell. As always, Ren both welcomed and resented the return to the city. The imposing walls of the Red Keep atop Aegon's High Hill came into view first, a vague shadow on the horizon over the trees, followed by the rest of the city, a sprawling mass covering the three hillsides and spilling down to the Blackwater river. It looked impressive from here, and intimidating; both of which it was built to be, of course. Though the Targaryen sigils had been replaced with stags, gold banners replacing red and black, and the dragon skulls moved to below the castle, the spirit of the dragons who had ruled there for hundreds of years was never truly erased, worked into the walls of the castle itself.

Ren fell back into routine of being in the city. He woke early, did any squiring duties that were required, then sparred in the practice yard until past midday, Jaime often coming down to join him, whether that was to spar with him or other Kingsguard knights. Then lunch with Loreon and several of the other squires their age, sometimes Tommen too, depending whether his mother was looking for him or not. Ren's afternoons were his to do with as he pleased - half the time that involved another hour or two of practice - which now included the added presence of his family there.

Arya, Sansa and Morganna were staying in the Tower of the Hand along with his uncle. He didn't see Lord Stark much in those first few days; if the man wasn't in small council meetings, then the King demanded his presence, or he was meeting privately with certain characters like Littlefinger or Varys. About what, Ren wasn't certain, but he had his suspicions, and it could be nothing good.

A letter from his mother arrived three days after they reached the city. All letters from his mother came through Jaime - apparently the Grand Maester read through all letters that were not addressed to a Lannister - so it was no surprise when the knight handed him two unopened envelopes one morning, one for him and one for his uncle.

"Courtesy of Lady Bolton,"

"Thanks," He hesitated. "Why do you let her send her letters through you?"

"Why do you ask now?"

"The more I think on it, the more... unusual it is,"

"My uncharacteristic kindness, or her trusting a Lannister with private correspondence?"

"Both,"

The knight shrugged. "It started before the rebellion. I'd send ravens to Winterfell with her letters, before it became too risky. Seemed petty to stop,"

"I thought you said you barely knew her in the Rebellion?"

"She said that, not I,"

Ren gave up after that. There was something odd about the whole thing, but nothing he cared to dig too deeply into. Letters in hand, he bade Jaime goodbye and set off for the Tower of the Hand.

"From Mother," He handed the letter addressed Lord Eddard Stark to his uncle.

"So soon?" The man opened the letter in front of him, frowning. That frown only deepened as he read what was written in it.

Ren hesitated. "What is it, Uncle?"

"An assassin tried to kill Bran," He quickly added, "The man did not succeed, of course. Bran lost some fingers on his right hand,"

Lord Stark's tone was cold, his eyes angry, but Ren knew that masked the pain of knowing something so awful had happened to his son. Bran had wanted to be a knight. That seemed unlikely, with a crippled right hand, though he was young enough to learn with his left. Still; a horrible experience for an eight-year-old boy.

"Why would anyone try and kill Bran? Surely this means that his fall wasn't an accident, either?"

"It does seem that way," His uncle said, scanning the rest. "Your mother tells me my lady wife was most disturbed by the incident. She is on her way to King's Landing by sea - " He broke off, pausing. "What I say now cannot leave this room, Ren. Not even your friend Loreon Storm,"