290 AC – The Red Keep
Lyonel's POV
The cry still rang in my ears as I ran. My legs burned from the sprint back from the city streets, but I didn't stop. The mysterious man's smirk faded from my mind, replaced by the guard's words at the gate: "The queen's waters broke. The babe is coming."
Mother.
I burst through the corridors of Maegor's Holdfast, dodging servants and guards who could barely register my presence. The queen's chambers were ahead, the door ajar and voices were spilling out with maids calling for more hot water, midwives giving out instructions, and that sound again: Mother's gasp, turning into a low moan of pain.
I pushed inside the chamber.
The room was a whirlwind of activity. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and blood. Maids darted with steaming basins and clean linens. Grand Maester Pycelle hovered near the bed, chains clinking as he mixed a vial of something milky. Tywin stood at the foot of the bed, his face a mask of stone.
Mother layed propped against pillows, her golden hair dark with sweat, clinging to her forehead and neck. Her gown was soaked from the waist down, the sheets twisted around her legs. Her breathing came in short, ragged bursts and her face pale . Her hands clutched the bedframe so hard the knuckles turned white.
She saw me and her eyes softened.
"Lyonel" she gasped, then her face contorted as another contraction hit. A low moan escaped her lips, building to a cry that made my stomach twist.
"Mother!" I rushed forward, boots slipping on the damp floor. I climbed onto the edge of the bed, my hands wrapping around her free arm. "I'm here, Mother."
She squeezed my hand hard and managed a weak smile through the pain. "My sweet boy… stay with me."
I nodded, throat tight. "I'm not going anywhere."
The midwives worked fast checking her, pressing cool cloths to her brow. "Push, Your Grace," the head midwife said, her voice steady as old oak. "The babe is close."
Cersei eyes squeezed shut as another wave hit. Her cry filled the room. I held on tighter, whispering whatever came to mind: "You're strong you can do this!"
She squeezed back so hard it hurt, but I didn't let go.
Grandfather Tywin watched from the foot of the bed, arms crossed with unreadable expression. But I saw the way his fingers tapped against his arm.
Cersei's cries turned to screams. The room grew hotter and the air grew thick with the coppery tang of blood.
Then the head midwife's voice rose: "Push now, Your Grace! I see the crown!"
Cersei bore down, face red, veins standing out on her neck. A long and full of agony scream tore from her throat.
And then a new cry was heard.
A girl.
The midwife lifted the babe, slimy and red, wrapping her quickly in clean linen.
I looked at my new sister and said "She's beautiful, Mother."
Cersei looked at me, eyes shining. "She is."
Tywin finally stepped forward to look at the babe his expression unreadable, but he gave a single nod. "She's a strong child. Good."
An Hour Later
The screams had stopped an hour ago.
Cersei lay exhausted against the pillows, her golden hair dark with sweat, her body aching in ways she'd almost forgotten since Joffrey's birth. But it was done and the child was born.
This time it was a girl.
Grand Maester Pycelle approached with the swaddled bundle, his chains clinking softly. "Your Grace, your daughter is healthy. She got strong lungs and good color..."
"Let me see her," Cersei demanded, reaching out with trembling arms.
The midwife placed the baby in her arms, and Cersei looked down at her newborn daughter, already searching for the telltale signs. The shape of her face, the set of her eyes and then she noticed
Black hair.
Cersei's breath caught in her throat. The baby's hair was as black as a raven's wing, unmistakably Baratheon. Just like Lyonel's had been.
For a moment she couldn't process it. She had been so certain, so absolutely certain that this child would have golden hair like Joffrey. Like her and like Jaime. She had felt it in her bones, known it with a mother's instinct.
But she'd been wrong.
Pycelle observed unnecessarily, peering at the infant with rheumy eyes. "The king will be most pleased your Grace."
The king. Robert.
Cersei's eyes swept the chamber looking at midwives, servants, maester but no husband there. Robert hadn't even bothered to come. He was probably drunk somewhere, or hunting in the Kingswood, or buried between the thighs of some whore who didn't care that his wife was bringing his child into the world.
Fury rose in her chest, hot and bitter. She had just endured hours of agony and the child ends is another black-haired proof of his precious Baratheon seed and he couldn't even be bothered to show his face.
"Where is the king?" she asked, her voice dangerously quiet.
Pycelle shifted uncomfortably. "His Grace was… indisposed, Your Grace. I sent word, but-"
"Get out," Cersei said flatly. "All of you. Leave me with my daughter."
The servants and midwives scrambled to obey, filing out quickly. Pycelle lingered for a while longer, looking like he wanted to protest but one look at Cersei's face convinced him otherwise. He bowed and shuffled out, leaving the queen alone with her newborn.
Cersei looked down at the tiny face, at the black hair that marked her as Robert's. Another Baratheon.
But as the baby's eyes fluttered open, revealing a beatuiful green color, like Lyonel's, like her own and something in Cersei's heart shifted despite her anger.
"Myrcella," she whispered, the name coming to her unbidden. "Your name is Myrcella."
The baby made a small sound, and Cersei felt tears prick her eyes. Tears of exhaustion, fury and of something she couldn't quite name.
"You're mine," she told her daughter fiercely. "My daughter. I will always love you, little one. Even if your father can't be bothered to meet you."
Outside the chamber, Ser Jaime Lannister stood at his post, white cloak hanging perfectly still, his face a mask of composure but inside he was anything but calm.
He had heard Cersei screams, every one of them. He decided to stand guard outside the chamber instead of sitting inside and being unable to do anything to help her.
When the screams finally stopped and were replaced by the sharp cry of a newborn, Jaime had felt relief wash over him. She was alive and the child too. That was all that mattered.
But now, as the servants and midwives filed out, he caught snippets of their whispered conversations.
"The king will be pleased when he returns…" "The babe has hair just like Prince Lyonel"
Black hair.
Jaime felt something twist in his chest. He hoped even some part of him thought it sure that this child might have golden hair like Joffrey. He thought the child might be…
He cut the thought off viciously. It didn't matter. Cersei was Robert's wife. Any child she bore would be Robert's, black hair or gold. That was the way of things.
That was how it had to be.
"Ser Jaime," Pycelle's voice interrupted his thoughts. The old maester had emerged from the chamber. "The queen wishes to be alone with the princess. You may enter to pay your respects, but do not linger."
Jaime nodded stiffly and pushed open the door.
Cersei looked up as he entered, and the expression on her face made his heart clench. She looked exhausted, furious, and heartbroken all at once.
"Jaime," she said softly.
He approached slowly, his eyes moving to the bundle in her arms. "A daughter," he said, keeping his voice neutral. "Congratulations, sister."
"Look at her," Cersei said, and there was something almost challenging in her tone.
Jaime did. Almost immedietly noticing her black hair, unmistakably Baratheon.
He felt that twist in his chest again. Disappointment, though he had no right to it. Relief, perhaps, that there would be no questions, no whispers.
"She's beautiful," he said, and meant it. "What will you call her?"
"Myrcella," Cersei replied. "And Robert didn't even bother to come. He's out hunting, or drinking, or fucking some tavern wench. His daughter is born and he can't even be bothered to..." Her voice cracked, and she stopped, pressing her lips together tightly.
Jaime's hand moved before he could stop it, reaching out to touch her shoulder. "Cersei"
"Don't," she said sharply, pulling away. "Just… don't. Go back to your post, Ser Jaime. That's all you're good for now, isn't it?"
The harsh words stung, he bowed stiffly and turned to leave.
That Evening – The Queen's Chambers
Cersei's POV
Myrcella was sleeping in the cradle beside her. When the door opened again, and Lyonel entered with Joffrey, who was looking confused about being woken from his nap. He climbed onto the bed carefully, staring at the new babe with wide eyes.
"Joff," Lyonel called, holding out his hand. "Come meet our sister."
"Our sister?" he asked, voice a whisper.
Joffrey climbed onto the bed with less grace than Lyonel had, nearly kicking Cersei in the process. She winced but said nothing, adjusting so both boys could see the baby.
"She's small," Joffrey observed, wrinkling his nose.
"You were small once too," Cersei said, smoothing his golden hair. "Both of you were."
"What's her name?" Joffrey asked.
"Myrcella," Lyonel answered before I could. "And we're going to take care of her, right Joff? We're her big brothers."
Joffrey looked uncertain, but after a moment he nodded. "I guess."
Lyonel helped him get closer, with one arm around his shoulders. Joffrey peered into the cradle, reaching out a chubby hand to touch her head.
"She looks like you, brother," he said, looking up at Lyonel with wonder.
I laughed softly. "And she also looks like you too my darling. See her eyes?"
Joffrey nodded solemnly.
I reached out, pulling them both closer to me. "My lions," I murmured. "All of you."
We stayed like that for hours. Joffrey falling asleep against my side, Myrcella stirring only to nurse and my hand on Lyonel arm. The fire crackled in the hearth, casting warm shadows on the walls. For a moment, it felt like the world outside, the court, the crown and all the cracks didn't exist.
Several Days Later – The Queen's Chambers
Cersei sat in a cushioned chair by the window, Myrcella nursing at her breast, the babe's black curls soft against her skin. Tywin stood across from her, hands clasped behind his back, face impassive as always..
"You look well," he said, which from Tywin was practically effusive praise.
"I'm recovering," Cersei replied, sitting up straighter despite her exhaustion. "What brings you here, Father?"
"I came to inform you that I will be returning to Casterly Rock in a fortnight," Tywin said without preamble. "And as I told you before, Lyonel will be coming with me."
Cersei's jaw tightened. They had discussed this before, Tywin's desire to take a more active role in Lyonel's education. She had agreed, reluctantly, knowing that her father could teach her son things she could not. But now, with Myrcella barely a week old, the thought of losing Lyonel even temporarily made her chest ache.
"How long will you keep him?" she asked.
"As long as it takes," Tywin replied. "He has potential, Cersei, but potential means nothing without proper cultivation. He will learn what it means to be a Lannister."
"He's the crown prince" Cersei said sharply.
"And he will need to understand that Robert may have won the throne with a warhammer, but he will need more than brute strength to keep it." Tywin said sharply
Cersei wanted to argue, but she knew her father was right. Robert was a poor example of kingship, and Lyonel needed to be better otherwise the new ruling dynasty will not last long.
"Fine," she said finally. "But he'll stay there only for 2 years and he can come back to me after that is that clear father?"
"Of course," Tywin said, and there might have been the faintest hint of approval in his tone. "Also, Lord Arryn delivered the news to Robert today. The king has been informed of the arrangement."
"And what did my loving husband say?" Cersei asked bitterly.
"He was drunk," Tywin replied flatly. "He said something about boys needing to learn from their grandfathers and then returned to his cups. I doubt he'll remember the conversation by tomorrow."
Cersei's hands clenched in the bedsheets, but she said nothing. What was there to say? Robert was Robert, and he would never change.
"I'll tell Lyonel to prepare," she said finally.
Tywin nodded and turned to leave
Cersei sat in the silence, looking at her sleeping daughter with a soft smile.
The Next Day – The Red Keep Training Yard
Lyonel's POV
The sun was just peeking over the walls when the system chimed in my mind startling me.
[Quest Complete: Master the Blade]
[Reward: Truth Serum]
[Truth Serum: The person who drinks this potion will tell you their best kept secrets. Usable only once.]
He stopped dead in his tracks, staring at the floating text.
The system. I had completely forgotten about the system. He thought
*A truth serum, huh?* he thought, a slow smile spreading across his face. *Then maybe today I should go along with my plan. It's earlier than I planned, but if this potion can really bring him to open up quicker, then it's for the better.*
He dismissed the notification with a thought and continued toward the training yard, his steps quicker now, purpose driving him forward.
Ser Jaime and Ser Barristan were already there, waiting for him. Jaime was checking the practice swords while Barristan stood with his hands clasped behind his back.
"Good morning, my prince," Barristan said with a respectful nod.
"Good morning, Ser Barristan, Ser Jaime," Lyonel replied, unable to keep the slight excitement from his voice.
Jaime raised an eyebrow. "Someone's eager today. Did you finally figure out that overhead strike I showed you?"
"Maybe," Lyonel said with a grin. "Or maybe I'm just ready to impress you both."
The training session was intense, as it always was. Barristan worked him through footwork drills while Jaime corrected his form, the two knights working in tandem to shape Lyonel into a proper swordsman.
By the time they finished, Lyonel was sweating and breathing hard, but he felt good.
"Excellent work today, my Prince," Barristan said, genuine pride in his voice. "You're progressing remarkably well."
"Thank you, Ser Barristan," Lyonel said, bowing slightly. "I couldn't do it without both of you."
Barristan smiled and excused himself, citing duties that required his attention. That left Lyonel alone with Jaime.
"Uncle," Lyonel said, trying to sound casual. "Do you have time to spend with me? Just… talk for a bit?"
Jaime's expression softened. "I'm free until midday. Of course, nephew. What did you have in mind?"
"Just a walk around the Keep," Lyonel said. "There's something I want to show you."
He smiled warmly. "I'd like that, nephew. Lead the way."
They walked together, Lyonel leading the way through corridors and courtyards, talking about training and upcoming tournaments and nothing of particular importance. Jaime seemed relaxed, genuinely enjoying the time with his nephew.
Finally, Lyonel led them to a small, secluded courtyard tucked away in a forgotten corner of the Red Keep. It was overgrown with ivy, the stones cracked and weathered, but it was completely private.
Jaime raised an eyebrow as we slipped inside. "How did you find a place like this?"
Lyonel smirked. "It was when I was wandering around the Keep and I found it by accident. No one ever comes here.
They sat on an old stone bench. Jaime stretched his legs, relaxing.
"Uncle," I said, voice casual, "can I ask you something?"
Jaime looked at him curiously. "Of course, nephew ask away."
Lyonel took a breath. "Why do people call you Kingslayer, Uncle?"
Jaime's expression shifted immediately, his easy smile fading. He was quiet for a long moment, and Lyonel could see him weighing his words.
"You see," Jaime said finally, his voice carefully controlled, "it's because I broke my oath as a Kingsguard and killed my king when I was supposed to protect him."
I tilted my head. "I don't believe you did it because you wanted to or because you wanted to get grandfather's approval like people say, Uncle."
Jaime gave a soft smile. "Well, I might tell you when you're older, or you can order me when you become king."
I smirked back. "Okay, sure, Uncle…"
Jaime reached for his waterskin, taking a swig. He caught me eyeing it and chuckled. "If you wanted to drink, you could just say so, my dear nephew."
I blushed, turned away quickly with the waterskin uncle gave me making Jaime laugh at my embarrassment.
While turned away, I took a quick sip from the skin not to raise suspicion then, with slightly trembling hands, I poured the entire contents of the truth serum into the waterskin. I turned back, handing it to him. "T-thank you, Uncle. I was really thirsty."
They talked for a while longer, with me keeping the conversation light and casual, waiting for the potion to take effect. I wasn't sure how long it would take, but he forced himself to be patient.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, I decided to test it.
"Uncle," I said carefully, "why are you called a Kingslayer?"
Jaime's eyes glazed slightly. He replied with a distant voice. "You see, nephew, it's because I did something many people would be too scared to do, and some would just run away prioritizing their lives."
And then, as if a dam had broken, the whole story came pouring out.
"The Mad King was obsessed with it. He loved to watch people burn, the way their skin blackened, blistered, melted off their bones. He burned lords he didn't like, he burned Hands that disobeyed him, he burned anyone that was against him. Before long, half the country was against him."
I listened, his heart pounding, as Jaime continued.
"Aerys saw traitors everywhere, so he had his pyromancer place caches of wildfire all over the city: beneath the Sept of Baelor, the slums of Flea Bottom, under houses, stables, taverns, even beneath the Red Keep itself."
Jaime's voice was hollow now, lost in memory.
"Finally, the day of reckoning came. Robert Baratheon marched upon the capital after his victory at the Trident. But my father arrived first with the whole Lannister army at his back, promising to defend the city against the rebels. I knew my father better than that. He's never been one to pick the losing side. I told the Mad King as much. I urged him to surrender peacefully."
His hands clenched into fists.
"But the king didn't listen to me, didn't listen to Varys, who tried to warn him. But he did listen to Grand Maester Pycelle, that grey sunken cunt. 'You can trust the Lannisters,' he said. 'The Lannisters have always been true friends of the crown.' So we opened the gates and my father sacked the city."
Jaime's voice cracked slightly.
"Once again I came to the king, begging him to surrender. He told me to bring him my father's head. Then he turned to his pyromancer. 'Burn them all,' he said. 'Burn them in their homes, burn them in their beds.'"
I felt tears prick my eyes as he listened to my uncle's confession even though i heard it once watching the show in my last life, it did not had the same weight as it does now nor was I so close to Jaime as I am now.
"I always wonder what would my brothers from the Kingsguard, would Lord Commander Gerold Hightower or my mentor Ser Arthur Dayne do if the king ordered them to kill their own father and stand by while thousands of men, women, and children were burned alive? Would they have done it? Would they have kept their oaths then?"
Jaime's voice was barely above a whisper now.
"First, I killed the pyromancer. And then, when the king turned to flee, I drove my sword into his back. 'Burn them all,' he kept saying. 'Burn them all.' I don't think he expected to die. He meant to burn with the rest of us and rise again, reborn as a dragon, to turn his enemies to ash. I slit his throat to make sure that didn't happen."
He looked down at his hands as if seeing blood there.
"That's where Ned Stark found me. Sitting on the Iron Throne. I didn't sit on it because I wanted to be important or to make myself king. No, I was just tired, overwhelmed, and my legs had lost all strength. When Ned came in, I pushed all other thoughts aside with all my strength and somehow could control my thoughts again."
Jaime's voice broke completely.
"Later, when I learned what happened with Princess Elia and Prince Aegon and little Princess Rhaenys, I was devastated. I not only broke my oath that day but also failed to protect the family of my friend. I didn't deserve to wear the white from that point, and I was ready to die or, in the worst scenario, to be sent to the Wall."
Silence fell over the courtyard. I felt tears streaming down my face, but I didn't wipe them away.
"If this is true," I said, his voice thick with emotion, "why didn't you tell anyone your side, uncle? Why didn't you tell Lord Stark?"
Jaime laughed bitterly. "Stark? You think the honorable Ned Stark wanted to hear my side? He judged me guilty the moment he set eyes on me. By what right does the wolf judge the lion? By what right?"
The moment the words left his mouth, Jaime's eyes widened in horror. He seemed to suddenly realize what he'd just said, what he'd just revealed. His face went pale, and he shot to his feet.
"I—" he started, backing away. "Lyonel, I didn't mean—"
But I was faster and quickly grabbed his hands, my hands holding them tightly despite their small size.
"Uncle, relax," I said firmly. "I'm glad you told me your whole story."
I looked him in the eyes. "You should not be called Kingslayer, Uncle. You are a hero who saved millions of people. You deserve that white cloak more than most of them." I pointed at his Kingsguard cloak. "You did not break your oath because you wanted to impress your father. No, you made a very hard decision and put lives of innocent people above a mad king who was ready to destroy this city."
Jaime stood frozen, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to find words that wouldn't come.
I continued: "You are a knight any king would be delighted to have in his Kingsguard, and the same goes for me."
"L-Lyonel," Jaime finally managed, his voice shaking. "You really don't want to have a Kingslayer as your Kingsguard. It's better to just strip me of this cloak and send me back to the Rock. At least you'll win favor with your grandfather."
I smiled. "Sure I could do that, but I know that's not what you want, is it? You never wanted to be the heir to Casterly Rock. You always dreamed of being a Kingsguard, and your talent with the sword makes you one of the best knights ever. Besides, you always knew Tyrion is a better fit as the heir of the Casterly Rock, right?"
Jaime's words made him speechless, and all he could do was nod.
I got up slowly from the bench and stood in front of Jaime, looking kinda funny how a 6-nameday child tries to look so serious, but all Jaime saw in that moment was not a 6-nameday boy but a future king who's about to give out his judgment. "Kneel Ser Jaime."
And Jaime, almost without thinking, dropped to one knee.
I started speaking again. "Will you protect your king even at a cost of your own life?"
Jaime got quite shocked hearing those words but automatically replied, "I will."
"Will you counsel him when counsel will be requested and keep silent when it will be not?"
"I will."
"Will you keep his secrets?"
Jaime replied again, though with a bit of scorned face but I didn't say nothing at that because I knew he thought it's about keeping Robert secrets. "I will."
"Will you serve his pleasure and defend his name and honor?"
Jaime looked into my eyes and replied, "I will."
"Will you swear not to wed or father any children?"
Jaime replied, clearly startled at the last part, "I-I will."
I nodded with a satisfied smirk. "Then rise Ser Jaime Lannister. From this moment on your oaths are renewed and you are the first and newest member of Kingsguard."
Jaime replied, still on his knees, "Thank you my prince." Then as he was slowly getting up he looked confused. "The first member my prince?"
I smiled widely at that. "Oh right! I didn't say it yet but I never meant those oaths were for my father. You're the first member of my Kingsguard or should i say it's Princeguard for now, Ser Jaime, so I hope now you understand how much i value you and you have a chance at redeem yourself now and have a completely fresh start."
Jaime looked stunned and then knelt again. "I swear by the Seven I will do my utmost best."
I nodded. "Good, that's what I'm hoping for. Now please get up uncle, oh and don't tell anyone about this yet."
Jaime smiled. "I just renewed my oaths didn't I? I promise to keep all your secrets safe, my prince."
I looked at him with serious expression again. "Let's sit for a bit more uncle because there's something I want you to do but do not worry you don't have to do it immediately in fact you should take your time."
Jaime sat down and looked confused at what I was saying. "What are you saying nephew?"
I sighed and continued. "I mean uncle you have to tell your side of this story to Lord Commander Ser Barristan. Yes I know you don't want to but I want you to tell him that. You probably think why there's a need for Ser Barristan to know that. Uncle I really need Ser Barristan to be on our side and for him to trust us and not only that but for two of my best kingsguards to trust each other with their backs."
Jaime rubbed his forehead. "Lyonel I don't think it's good idea I doubt Ser Barristan will believe me even if I said that and besides he takes his duty very seriously, why would you think he might not be on our side?"
I replied. "Uncle we both know that he never stopped being Targaryen loyalist he only surrendered to my father because it was all he could then. I'm sure even if Viserys or Daenerys were making a name for themselves in Essos he still wouldn't abandon his post and rush to them but if they came back to Westeros with army and started gathering lords I'm sure he would kneel for them. I'm planning on making Ser Barristan get completely on our side and I need him to trust you and stop doubting you, I need him to understand why you did what you did."
Jaime stared at me for a moment then answered. "I will think on it nephew but I won't do it now."
I nodded. "I don't expect you to do it right away uncle, you have time until I come back from Casterly Rock. When I come back you better be ready to do it, if you still won't be then I will order you to, understand?"
Jaime smiled softly. "Clearly nephew."
I then got up. "Okay let's go now uncle, your guard duty starts soon."
Jaime shook his head amused. "Right let's go before someone misses us."
As they walked back through the corridors of the Red Keep, Jaime found himself looking at his nephew. This child, his nephew, this six-nameday boy had just done something no one else had managed in fifteen years.
He'd made Jaime Lannister believe in redemption again.
Two Weeks Later – The Lion Gate
The morning was crisp and clear as the Lannister party prepared to depart for Casterly Rock. Horses stamped and snorted, their breath misting in the cool air. Lannister soldiers in crimson cloaks stood in formation, their armor gleaming in the early sunlight.
At the center of it all stood Lord Tywin Lannister, mounted on a magnificent white destrier, his presence commanding even in silence.
Beside him, a smaller horse, a gentle pony suitable for a child waited patiently. That would be Lyonel's mount for the journey.
Cersei stood with her children, Myrcella bundled in her arms, Joffrey clinging to her skirt. Her face was composed, but Lyonel could see the tightness around her eyes, the way her hand trembled slightly as she reached out to cup his face.
"Be good," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "Listen to your grandfather and learn everything he has to teach you."
"I will, Mother," Lyonel promised, leaning into her touch.
"And write to me I want to know how you're doing."
"I will."
Cersei pulled him into a fierce embrace, holding him so tightly he could barely breathe. "Be safe, my sweet," Cersei whispered, bending to press a long, lingering kiss to my forehead "And come back to me my precious boy."
"I will," Lyonel said again, his own voice cracking.
When she finally released him, there were tears on her cheeks, though she tried to hide them.
Lyonel turned to Joffrey, tugged his sleeve, with wobbly voice. "Come back soon, brother. Promise?"
"I promise," Lyonel said, ruffling his curls.
"Be good while I'm gone, Joff. Take care of Mother and Myrcella and don't let anyone take your toys without a fight."
He nodded solemnly. "Yes big brother i will."
Lyonel ruffled his brother's golden hair, then moved to the bundle in his mother's arms. Myrcella was awake, her green eyes staring up at him with infant curiosity.
"I'll be back soon, little sister," he said softly, touching her tiny hand. "And when I return, I'll tell you all about Casterly Rock."
Then came the moment he'd been dreading. Robert stood nearby, looking uncomfortable and out of place, clearly wishing he was anywhere else.
"Father," Lyonel said, bowing formally
Robert stood a little apart, arms crossed. When I approached he looked down at me, eyes bloodshot and hard, like he'd drunk half the night away.
"Boy," he grunted. "Don't let your grandfather turn you into some scheming Lannister. You're a Baratheon. Better act like it."
I nodded once. "Yes, Father."
There was no hug and no warmth between us. Just the same old distance, like a wall I'd never climb.
Lyonel turned away and found Ser Barristan waiting. The old knight's face was warm with pride and affection.
"Ser Barristan," Lyonel said, standing straighter. "I promise to be diligent with my training and to never skip it."
Barristan smiled. "I know you won't, my prince. You have the dedication of a true knight. When you return, I expect to see even more improvement."
"You will, ser. I swear it."
Barristan placed a hand on Lyonel's shoulder, squeezing gently. "Safe travels, my Prince. May the Seven watch over you."
Finally, Lyonel turned to Jaime. His uncle stood in his white cloak and armor, looking every inch the perfect Kingsguard. When their eyes met, there was warmth there… but Jaime looked a bit hurt.
When Lyonel got closer, Jaime sighed and spoke, voice low and bitter. "I thought I'd be going with you nephew I really wanted to."
Lyonel met his gaze steadily. "I know uncle but i really need you here. You need to rebuild trust between you and Ser Barristan. Also, think of you staying here like a small test i have for you."
Jaime sighed heavily, shoulders sagging just a fraction. "I understand, nephew. I'll stay."
Lyonel nodded. "Good, besides I have Ser Arys and Ser Boros with me and Ser Arys is quite capable."
Jaime looked at his Kingsguard brothers standing nearby, then back at Lyonel, eyes narrowing. "Yes you're right, Ser Arys might be capable. But Ser Boros is completely unreliable. Not fitting to be a member of the Kingsguard." He said it through gritted teeth, the words dripping with contempt.
Lyonel patted his shoulder gently. "Don't worry, uncle. I have a plan already to deal with that. When I come back, Ser Boros most likely won't be wearing white anymore."
Jaime's eyes widened for a moment, then gave a slow nod.
Jaime replied "You'll do well at the Rock. Your grandfather is a hard man, but he'll teach you things no one else can."
"I know." Lyonel paused, then lowered his voice so only Jaime could hear. "Remember what I asked of you, uncle. When I return, I want to hear that you've done it."
Jaime's jaw tightened, but he nodded. "I remember. And I… I'll try."
"That's all I ask." Lyonel smiled, then threw his arms around Jaime's neck in an impulsive hug.
Jaime stiffened for a moment before his arms came up to wrap around his nephew, holding him close. "Be safe, Lyonel," he murmured.
"I will uncle" Lyonel promised
Jaime stood, his hand lingering on Lyonel's shoulder for a moment before he stepped back into his formal stance.
Lord Tywin's voice cut through the morning air, cold and commanding. "Lyonel. It's time."
Lyonel took a deep breath and walked to his pony. A servant helped him mount, and he settled into the saddle with the ease.
From his elevated position, he looked back at his family one last time. His mother, tears streaming down her face despite her attempts at composure. Joffrey, trying to look brave but clearly upset. Little Myrcella, blissfully unaware in her mother's arms. His father, already looking like he wanted to leave. Uncle Jaime, his white cloak stirring in the breeze, his green eyes fixed on Lyonel with an expression that held hope.
"I'll be back," Lyonel called out, his voice carrying across the courtyard. "I promise."
Cersei raised one hand in farewell, unable to speak.
Tywin wheeled his horse around. "Move out," he commanded, and the Lannister column began to move.
As they rode through the gates of the Red Keep and into the streets of King's Landing, Lyonel resisted the urge to look back. He kept his eyes forward with his back straight and his hands steady on the reins.
He was six nameday, and he was leaving his home, his mother, his siblings. He was going to spend months perhaps longer under his grandfather's tutelage.
But more than that, he was taking the next step in his plan. The plan to save his family, to prevent the disasters he knew were coming, to forge a better future for the Seven Kingdoms.
The truth serum had worked. Jaime's secret was out, at least for now only to Lyonel. And now, slowly but surely, Lyonel would build the foundations of his own Kingsguard. Knights who were loyal. Knights who understood what true honor meant. Most importantly knights who were brave and were skilled not appointed for political reasons.
As the Red Keep disappeared behind them and the road to Casterly Rock stretched out ahead, Lyonel allowed himself a small smile.
Jaime stood at his post by guarding King's chamber with heavy own heart.
He had made a promise to Lyonel, a promise that terrified him.
But he had made it nonetheless.
And Jaime Lannister, for all his faults intended to keep this one.
For his nephew.
For his prince.
For the boy who had looked at him and seen not a Kingslayer, but a hero.
The boy who had given him something he thought he'd lost forever.
Hope.
Jaime's eyes flickered with resignation, but not anger. "I know, nephew. I know. I'll try getting used to the idea, though it won't be easy."
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Yes I made Myrcella trueborn since that also helped make Cersei mad at Jaime which will create a cracks in their relationship.
It's the longest chapter yet with 6073 words, if you notice some mistakes or doubled text please comment and I'll fix it right away.