A Lion Still Has Claws

Part 15

Rhaenyra and Jaime moved to his rooms later that morning. She insisted, ignoring his whining by pulling him from her dreary room. The change of space would diminish the pain of their previous conversation.

After struggling to dress, they made way to her children's quarters. Domeric beamed at the sight of his stepfather clearly unaware of his younger brothers' apprehension. He grabbed at Jaime's flesh hand, squeezing with a peculiar eagerness that surprised the knight. Rhaenyra watched from afar, examining the conversation. Beside her walked Henry who showed no interest in the stranger.

Rhaenyra and her children sat at Jaime's terrace for breakfast. It sat in the shade of the castle, a slight breeze from the sea moved throughout the large deck. A large open doorway separated the bedroom from the outside. Curtains acted as a false door, billowing with the air's soft movements. Her husband made a mess in his room, moving clothing and drawers in search of some nonsense. She preferred to be alone with her sons.

"Domeric!" Jaime shouted from the room. Her son followed the call, with a drop of his plate. He easily disappeared behind the curtains. Rhaenyra was left with her youngest sons. Robb sat in her lap, slapping a spoon into his mashed pears. Henry mischievously glanced at his mother as he rose to stand atop his chair. 

He pushed his long hair from his forehead, carefully shifting his look into that of determination. His large cheeks turned to a bright red as he struggled to lift his knee onto the table's top. He reached past the towers of food to his brother's plate on the opposite side. Rhaenyra did not stop him but watched in intrigue as he dragged the plate with peculiar expertise. 

Henry beamed, "Mama look." He spoke with unique excitement as he offered Rhaenyra a strawberry. She shared his enthusiasm as she took the fruit from him, tapping his nose with its end. He laughed loudly, "Eat!" 

Rhaenyra winked to him, tilting her head back and snapping her mouth around the strawberry. She flared her teet. "Delicious!" Her voice pitched as she through the leaves of the berry to the ground. Henry squealed in laughter, covering his large smile with his hands. She leaned over the arm of her chair to kiss his smiling cheek.

The babe in her lap objected to her sudden movement. He dropped his spoon to the floor, where it clattered against the stone. Robb turned to her, his burning amethyst eyes staring curiously into her own. Rhaenyra smiled and pressed her lips to the crown of his head. She replaced his spoon, Robb quickly returned to his pears. Her hand caressed his dark hair, trying to flatten the thin locks. 

The sound of wood slashing pulled her attention. Robb cried in annoyance and nestled against her chest. Henry covered his ears at the sound. The noise scrapped to a halt as Jaime and Domeric rushed through the flowing curtains. Her son dragged a large wooden sword along the tiled floor, he beamed proudly. Jaime had a matching weapon and a similar look upon his face.

"Mummy look!" Domeric ran to her, the irritating noise returned as he rushed to her. He attempted to lift the heavy sword, "Ser Jaime says I can get a real one, with steel, for my birthday or name-day. He hasn't decided which."

Rhaenyra attempted to share his happiness as Jaime stood beside him. "Perhaps both," he said, "It will be a fine blade." His assurance pleased her son, making her feel oddly at ease. Jaime motioned for Domeric to follow him to the open space left on the terrace. She ignored the two, not wanting to focus on Jaime teaching her son the basics of sparring. Rhaenyra did not watch, she focused intently on her youngest children. Each murmur in the background induced a rise of heavy tears that none noticed. She thought of her late husband because a father should teach his son such a milestone. Jaime Lannister did not deserve the honor in teaching her son, Robb Stark's son, to yield a weapon. She missed him at that moment, more than she had in the past months.

She turned to Domeric quickly, cautiously watching as he lifted his sword to strike down Jaime. His eyes held immense joy, as did his stepfather. Domeric shrieked as he struck down Ser Jaime, who fell to the floor humorously to encourage the boy. Rhaenyra shook her head at the sight.

A tray slamming onto the table startled her. She shook slightly as her arms tightened around Robb. "The old Maester was too slow," Bella spoke nearly annoyed. She motioned to the scrolled letters and began to pick up the table's mess.

Rhaenyra's pulse quickened at the sight of the red, waxed, Bolton sigil. She reached for it, throwing the seal onto the ground. She sighed in relief at the recognizable handwriting. It was Ramsay. He wrote of his accomplishments, bragged about the new toy he simply called Reek. Rhaenyra was reminded to the man that stalked the halls of the Dreadfort. An awful smelling creature who followed Ramsay when he sat in her presence. She shuttered at the memory and continued reading. The letter faded from his tortures to his new legitimate state. Ramsay wrote, "You should feel lucky as not to have the burden of heir resting against your shoulders, sister."

Rhaenyra's grip tightened on the paper as she became annoyed with his words. The grasp loosened upon the letter's conclusion, he begged her to come North. "Home", he called it. Her arrival would induce a celebration for his new status, "a wonderful light in the dark lives of the Boltons."

She did not hesitate, "Jaime." He turned quickly, dropping his sword at her call. "I have something to ask of you." Domeric followed him as he returned to the table. He sat in his seat in his emptied seat slightly shock at his vanished dish.

Jaime leaned into the head seat beside his wife. His eyes glared at Bella who still cleaned around the table, "You, bastard. Are you going to listen to our conversation any longer or do I have to force you to leave?" He motioned for her to leave, she did as requested. Bella disappeared behind the curtains and could be heard cleaning the destroyed chambers. "Yes, wife?"

"Don't speak to her like that."

"Why? She is Robert's bastard, a tarnish in my sister's life. I feel it necessary."

Rhaenyra adjusted Robb against her chest, "Is Cersei your wife or me?" Jaime turned away, waiting for her question. "Now, I wanted to tell you my brother has been made heir to House Bolton." Her shoulders tensed slightly as she continued, "He has requested my presence in celebration."

"No."

"No?"

"I am not going to let you go North, you'll conspire another rebellion."

She smiled, refusing to disagree. "You can join me. We can make our move to Casterly Rock rather than returning to the Capital." Rhaenyra's voice softened as she continued to bargain, "I have not seen my brother in years, it is natural for me to miss him. My father will have my sons and me under heavy guard if I go alone." 

Jaime smirked, "I know that. Your father is very loyal to my house." He moved forward in his seat, whispering, "He betrayed his own daughter for my father. I am the new head of House Lannister, he would do so again if I willed it."

Rhaenyra did not react to his words, she tilted her head waiting for him to continue.

"I will let you go. I have the assurance of your father."

"You won't join me, husband?"

"I don't want to be killed."

Rhaenyra stood from her seat and excitedly reached to kiss his cheek.