Secret Shores Of Blackwater Bay - King's Landing, CrownLands - A while after Jaime saw Tywin
Jaime was sitting on some rocks by the shores of Blackwater Bay. The area was isolated, hard to find and only a few people truly knew it.
It allowed him to be alone with his thoughts, his new sword laying on his lap and his eyes cast ahead at the rather peaceful blue sea.
He had a lot to think about, replaying things that had taken place and deep down wondering if he had made the right decision.
He let out a heavy sigh, knees bent faintly and he hunched forward. He barely registered someone approaching until they were close enough for him to hear their steps against the rocks.
Turning his head, his low eye level made him see a bloody red dress first. He craned his head until his eyes locked with amber eyes.
"Thought I would find you here," she said and gathered some of her long dress to allow her more movement.
She then managed to sit by his side despite the long fabric and not really caring if the rocks might stain the fabric or even tear it. Yet again, she never truly cared for such trivial things; compared to so many other ladies of her status.
"How?" Jaime asked her, turning his head to look at her as they sat side by side.
"I know you better than you think," she answered him with a sweet motherly smile. "As a child, you loved to come here and your Maesters would go crazy looking for you," she continued, making him smile faintly. "You and Rhaegar, honestly." She shook her head faintly as she thought of the past and now bitter memories of a happier time.
He didn't comment but his small smile made it clear that he felt better hearing it, knowing someone truly knew him and even came to find him.
Indeed he liked that place because it was the closest he could find that reminded him of Casterly Rock.
The stench of the city did not reach him there as the winds always blew in the direction towards him, allowing him to only smell the sea and nothing else. Sometimes he could close his eyes and imagine he was by the cliffs of Casterly Rock where as a child he would dive from and into the sea. Until his father found out and grounded him for it. Yet, the memories were there and he would never forget them. After all he had passed through, especially as a captive of Vargo; he could truly use some good memories or a nice retreat back home.
Back at Casterly Rock where people actually respected the Lannisters, where he was not the Kingslayer in their eyes but the firstborn son of Tywin Lannister. One might question what the difference was but to him, there was.
She let him in his silence, clearly seeing that his mind was occupied and she did not pressure him. However, she did take notice of the sword on his lap.
He noticed what had gotten her attention and he handed it to her. "A gift from Father," he said, his expression turning bitter at the fresh memory as the incident took place less than an hour ago; unless of course he had been sitting on the rocks for far longer and did not realize how the time passed.
A gift for his dream heir as Lord of Casterly Rock, he corrected in his mind but said nothing of it out loud.
It was ironic because everyone knew, especially Jaime, that in Tywin's eyes; Trystan was his dream heir. He was the intelligent perfect son, who obeyed him without speaking back. The young boy that had taken no oaths, the young boy that bore no titles and had no sins to ruin his reputation or his image to the world.
Yet, his father still thought that he could force Jaime to be his replacement instead; when he had the perfect candidate. He did feel bad for Trystan, though, knowing that he only acted that perfectly because he did not wish to fight his father or argue with him.
He felt bad because the boy was young and wanted to explore, to train and to be himself; not get imprisoned behind the fancy white walls of Casterly Rock where he would remain a prisoner of his own title.
Forced to marry someone he doesn't know and try hard to produce heirs, to please his father. Forced to waste all those years of his life acting as a Lord when the boy, while he could be a great one, clearly did not wish to do so; at least not now.
Visenya took the sheathed sword with her right hand before drawing the sword with her left, since she did favour a more left-handed fighting style.
Her eyes inspected the blade, letting it balance on her open palm as she took notice of the metal design; one she was very familiar with.
"Valyrian steel," she pointed out and he nodded.
She knew that it was not the original great sword of the Lannisters, Brightroar because that had been gone for years now. Plus, she was certain if he had somehow found it; she would be the first to know.
However, she suspected where this blade came from; for Valyrian steel was rare and the blacksmiths that could work with it equally rare. Yet, there was one Valyrian steel sword in their possession that could be reshaped by the proper capable hands of an experienced smith.
"Father gave it to me, I guess as a bribe to be the new Lord of Casterly Rock," he confessed, looking forward again. "However, he must regret it now after I rejected the offer. His failure of a son," he scoffed, that sentence leaving a bitter aftertaste on his tongue.
For so long he had tried to please him, to be what his father wanted him to be. One time he truly stood up for himself. One time he chose his own needs over the ones of his father and he got rejected, disowned and forever marked himself as a failure in his father's eyes.
Visenya's eyes softened and she sheathed the sword before placing her hand on top of his good one.
"Jaime, I know your father is hard to deal with sometimes but... in his eyes, you will always be his son. He can play tough all he likes but he burnt down the Riverlands for you. He let out a blood trail of corpses behind him on his quest to win this war and get you back."
He heard her loud and clear but his eyes remained on the sea. Yet, he appreciated her effort and the warmth coming from her hand; somehow truly wanting to believe in her words.
"Did he tell you about what happened to Vargo?" she asked him and he nodded. "Did you know that the torture the Mountain inflicted upon him was his idea?" Now those words made him look at her. "It was. He was furious and he wished to exact his revenge upon the man that harmed you because at the end of the day... no matter what, you are his son and he is proud of you." She offered him her motherly smile again. "As am I."
She placed her warm hand on his cheek.
Jaime leaned on the comforting touch as his head was fully turned to look at her, eyes open wider with surprise while hope still existed within his green orbs. He held on to those small parts of hope, truly believing that deep down his father was still proud of him. But in the end, hearing her also say those words had the same and even stronger effect.
She had always been the one who supported him, and motivated him when he was growing up. She had been by his side for most years of his life as a child and teenager, being the one he always truly wished to impress and make proud.
As if she was reading his thoughts or sharing his memories, her thumb caressed the skin of his cheek faintly.
"I am proud of the man you have become, Jaime and always will be," she said, looking at him like how a mother would look at their children. "You might not be my son by blood but know, it would have been my honour if you were."
Those words bypassed all of his defences and he closed his eyes before he leaned forward. She moved her body so he could rest his head on her shoulder and she gently kept cupping his cheek as she did.
She did not mind such contact since it was what Jaime needed at that moment and she was glad to give it. She knew that Tywin cared for him but he simply had a tough time showing it because that's who he was.
In all those years of their marriage, not once had he said 'I love you' to her because he did not know how to express such feelings. She knew that and she understood it, which was why she settled with anything else she had been given by him. Sometimes, she truly wished he could be a tad better with his words for his children to realize that but that was still young and did not understand his character; not yet at least.
After a moment of just silently sitting there and hearing the small waves falling against the rocks, Visenya chose to address one more topic.
"I do not believe I complimented you on your new hand," she said, trying to ease the situation with a rather bad joke.
Jaime glanced at the steel but painted gold hand that was given to him by Cersei, meant to be a replacement for what he had lost.
"It's a useless piece of metal, shaped like a hand," he commented.
"No, it is not useless," Visenya argued and he looked at her without moving his head from her shoulder. "Strap a shield to it and no one will be able to ever knock it off your hand since it will never get tired or numb." She suggested, making him think about it for a moment. "And with the right swing, that arm can knock a few teeth from someone's mouth."
The last suggestion became a vivid image in his mind and somehow it was comical enough to make him chuckle. "Good-mother, how can a woman of your status think of such things?" he replied with some sarcasm and a joke, the mood turning better and lighter.
"You have no idea what women of my status think. We are simply too good at hiding it," she smirked, going along with his joke and earning another chuckle from him.
"Such as?" he asked and moved his body to a sitting upright position again before looking at her, a playful smirk on his lips.
"You know I can't tell, my son," she said, her smirk softening to a smile as an idea popped into her mind. "How about we train like when you were younger?" she suggested, making him arch an eyebrow. "I can help you train, in secret and away from prying eyes; how to use your left hand to fight."
This surprised him and he blinked a few times, looking at her as if she had grown a second head right in front of him. "You would? You think it will work?" he asked with hope glowing in his eyes.
"Sword fighting is more training than natural skill. I am sure you can learn how to use your left hand."
"Are you sure about that? Helping me?"
She placed her hand on his cheek again and gently pulled him forward, before placing a gentle kiss on his forehead. "You are my son, Jaime and always will be. I will never let you on your own," she reminded him, looking into his deep and tired green eyes with true motherly love and care; glowing stronger than it ever did before.
Olenna's Solar, Red Keep - King's Landing, Crown Lands
The wedding of Margaery and Joffrey was coming closer with each passing day and the Red Keep was busy with the preparations. Lords from all across Westeros had arrived and were being hosted in the Red Keep or very expensive inns close by while the common folk talked about it nonstop.
Huge amounts of food and wine were to be used while the money would be split between the two families of the couple; since the expenses were too much for only one.
However, not everyone was happy about the upcoming arrangements.
One of them was a certain Queen of Thorns; who had taken it upon herself to save her granddaughter from marrying a monster.
To ensure her plan would work, Olenna had invited Visenya for some wine and a light snack; a small quality time between the grandmothers of the couple. Yet, behind those closed doors of her solar; the two women discussed anything but the usual gossip expected from ladies of their status.
"You seem agitated," Olenna pointed out, noticing how often the Dragoness was drinking from her goblet compared to some other times.
"I simply have a lot in my mind right now with the wedding," she excused herself, placing her goblet on the table.
A half lie was easily thrown without much of an effort, the 'excessive' drinking a mere act she kept around; to allow Olenna to feel as if she had the upper hand. Accepting to form some sort of alliance with her was not enough because Visenya was far smarter and the two ladies knew it.
Yet, she could try to disguise it or reduce the amount of suspicion existing on her by playing a role she had recently mastered.
"And what exactly are you doing for that wedding?" the Queen of Thorns asked as she also placed her goblet on the table.
"Organize the feast and the drinks quantity that will be served, the servants and the service mostly to ensure all run smoothly and properly without any incidents. The usual duties of a Lady Paramount," she said, earning a silent chuckle from the older woman by her side.
"Ah, yes. The usual duties except popping babies like some sort of breeding stock," Olenna commented and earned an arched eyebrow from her.
Too specific, your example. What are you implying? she questioned mentally but did not dare to say any of them out loud; unaware of how Olenna had threatened Tywin by exposing that she knew of her condition.
"Yes, until something goes wrong and then the blame is to fall upon the one responsible for ensuring nothing would happen," she replied and took some cheese, biting softly into it.
She dismissively waved her hand. "Oh please, you are the Lady Wife of the Hand and the most powerful woman across Westeros. No one will dare to blame you without risking being eaten by that grumpy old Lion of yours," she joked and then something seemed to twinkle in her eyes. "Of course, no such thing will take place if one has someone to blame already."
"The right scapegoat," Visenya concluded from her words and Olenna nodded, glad to know her latest acquaintance was of a sharp mind and quick. "I do not suppose you have someone specific in mind?" she asked, although a part of her expected the answer that came next.
"It doesn't truly matter to me. As long as we do not end up with a second Mad King ruling us all," the older woman commented and drank some wine.
"You do realize what we are talking about here," she reminded the old woman since such an act was punishable by the gods and everyone knew it.
"So is Kingslaying and yet your stepson has returned to you, alas with one arm less but still alive," she commented. "It is not that if you are not the one with the blood on their hands, is it now?" she smirked and refilled their goblets.
Visenya did not say something immediately but instead pressed her lips into a thin line, deep in thought. She knew she was stepping on a very thin line at the moment since she had just been confirmed of Olenna's plan but had not the courage to tell Tywin yet.
Because Tywin was obsessed with legacy, he could have easily argued, then gone ahead and imprisoned Olenna; ruining their alliance. Of course, he might not act that rashly but she did not wish to risk any of it, especially because the more Visenya saw of Joffrey; the more she saw her brother.
After the small council meeting, Visenya felt hatred against a child for the first time. Joffrey was the first child she would not feel remorse if dying and the first and only child where her motherly instincts did not kick in when around him.
Instead, there was always this warning whenever the boy was around. The smallest of uneasiness in her stomach, and the passive increase in her heartbeat, all were signs that nothing good was around the boy. Like with a storm hidden behind a sunny day, one's instinct knew that something bad was coming but many simply chose to ignore it; forever regretting it after meeting the Stranger itself.
"You know, just recently I heard of the boy's punishment to a servant. That poor girl suffered at his hands and all I could think was... another Aerys in the making," Olenna confessed. "I am well aware that you were present when the Mad King abused your sister, weren't you?" she asked her rhetorically, deciding to play a nasty card but one that would ensure the Dragoness would not betray her or back down. "Imagine another victim of such abuse in Margaery. An innocent flower that will just have to suffer silently because the man she married wore a stupid golden crown and called himself the King."
Visenya took her goblet that had been refilled and took a sip. "Low blow, Lady Olenna; even for you," she commented but the older woman was amused, nonetheless.
"Is it now? We are merely having a discussion and bringing up the past," she faked and Visenya felt the need to roll her eyes but did not.
Instead, she lowered her goblet. "If you are worried that I will betray you or back down, I will not. I am not stupid and I have spent my years helping the realm. If I know this is the only way to ensure the past does not repeat itself, I will do it."
Olenna smirked. "It is rare to see a woman so dedicated to looking after a whole Kingdom when the same people she tries to keep happy would rather see her burning on a pyre. I knew I chose well when I approached you, Visenya and you will find out that... not many women think like us, so it is better to stick together; in this pitiful world ruled by incompetent men and boy-kings."