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The bastard is missing, and Winterfell is in a panic. 'You'd think they're under siege' Jaime thought to himself as every man, servant, and soldier went searching the castle and grounds.
The Hand of the King had come to Winterfell with his wife Lysa to visit the Starks, no doubt an escape from the royal couple. Cersei is almost due with her second child, Jaime's child. Since the death of her first things have been very tense throughout the whole pregnancy. Naturally Robert had to send him with Jon Arryn right when Cersei need's him by her side the most.
A month away from her so the King's hand could catch up with the Starks, and to pay respect to the grave of Lyanna Stark by order of the King. The kingsguard had no idea how Robert lives in such denial.The girl hadn't even wanted to marry him in the first place. Jaime wasn't supposed to know that, but anyone with eyes at the Tourney of Harrenhal could see she wasn't happy with the arrangement.
Though his own sister despises the memory of the wolf maid it was hard for him not to be the slightest bit sympathetic to Lyanna Stark's plight, as a man he had the Kingsguard to escape to while Lyanna was a young girl that had no one on her side. Then again, she’d managed to take a dynasty of three hundred years down with her. Perhaps she got the last laugh over the men who put her at the center of their war in the end.
When they arrived, all of Winterfell was lined up to kneel. Stark's wife with their infant daughter, and young son at the front beside Lord Stark himself.
'All kneeling like sheep.' Jaime thought bitterly.
He tunes out for the whole "Winterfell is at the King's service." blah, blah, blah. He still scans the perimeter for threats, but not listening to the boring drivel of the reunion. He hears a shriek of laughter suddenly. Stark's son had slipped away, concerningly unnoticed by him, to play with some other boy his age. They throw snowballs at each other, giggling like the children they are. It's so out of place for Jaime to witness something as jovially innocent as children playing that he actually doesn't know how to react, but he feels something akin to guilt in his stomach for a moment. Catelyn Stark and Lysa Arryn are both seething beside their husbands at the happy display. Jaime quickly put together why.
'The elusive bastard of Winterfell.'
Jaime tries to keep the corners of his mouth from twitching into a smirk. He remembers vaguely when he'd seen him last, a tiny little thing bundled in Stark's arms after he'd returned from lifting the siege at Storm's end, and mourning his sister.
He honestly didn't think he would ever see Ned Stark again after the fight he and Robert had before he'd left, but their shared grief made all well between them when he'd returned without Lyanna. Ned hadn't let anyone but Jon Arryn look at his bastard though. Jaime didn't understand why he'd even bothered to bring the baby back at all if he was that ashamed of him.
The boys were too far away to get a good look at, but even at this distance Jaime could tell the bastard looked more like Lord Stark than his heir did.
'That must twist the knife in Lady Starks back'
He felt kind of bad for her, having to look at the undeniable living reminder of Ned Stark's infidelity everyday must be painful. He knows because it always hurts a little to see Cersei at Robert's side.
Hours later a somber Lord Arryn, Ned, and Ned's brother Benjen had just exited the crypt when Robb Stark threw himself around his father's leg trembling. Catching Jaime off guard for the second time.
"What’s the matter?" Ned asked him kindly while he gently peels his boy off his leg. Jaime never knew Lord Stark to be anything but cold and serious, but with his son he is warm and affectionate. It's very disorienting.
"Jon ran away, again!" Robb sobbed into his father's shoulder.
‘Again?’ Jaime questioned silently.
"What do you mean?" Ned asked his son gentally.
"I can't find him." Robb explained "I looked everywhere! He's just gone." Robb sobbed some more.
"It's alright, son. Uncle Benjen and I will find him." Ned promised. Though he sends a nervous glance towards his brother, clearly concerned about his missing son.
"I'll get my men to search the grounds." Benjen assures his brother.
"Take some of the Kingsguard." Jon Arryn offered.
"Thank you, my friend." Ned said.
So Winterfell had Night's Watchmen, Kingsguard, and nearly every soldier at Winterfell working together looking for a bastard boy of four years old. It took them an embarrassingly long time to find him, long enough that the sun had set and crept up again, Jaime had begun to consider that they may be looking for a body instead of a boy. As much as he didn't like Lord Stark he hoped that wasn't the case, he'd seen enough dead children for one lifetime.
He made his way over to the God's wood. He's freezing, tired from searching all night, and he just wants to sit and collect himself. He walks among the bristlely dark trees and found it completely silent, not even the winds or falling snow could be heard. The only sound seemed to be the crunch of snow beneath his boots.
It's oddly peaceful in an eerie sense, but Jaime can only be alone in the quiet for so long. The silence turns from peaceful to uncomfortable when he finds the center of the forest, the face carved into the heart tree seems to stare at him no matter how he moves. It reminds Jaime of the knight of the laughing tree, which he never actually saw but makes him think of Aerys all the same, which makes him think of all the awful things he'd seen; so he tries to remember the good things like being knighted by Arthur Dayne, which reminded him of the Kingsguard, which brings the images of burnt and bloody mangled bodies that he'll never forget into his mind.
DAMN IT'- Jaime thought. Around and around it goes in his head. He turned to go back the way he came, but when he tried to track his way back he realized he's a bit lost. New fallen snow covering all tracks.
'Fuck'
He’s wandering, quite aimlessly, through the woods with nothing but his thoughts when he sees him. A tiny figure in dark clothes with his back to him standing next to the terrifying heart tree, he must have gone in a circle to get back to where he'd started but he didn't care. 'Finally, the nightmare ends.' Jaime thought as he treks over to him. The boy whirls around when he hears the crunching of snow get closer and shoves his hands behind his back as he gawked up at Jaime with terrified eyes.
'Never fear, the Kingslayer is here.' Jaime thought sarcastically as he took in the fearful face of the boy.
"What are you doing out here?" Jaime asks him, because after spending hours looking he had to know what the fuck he was doing all night. Poor kid's pale as a ghost except for his red cheeks and nose raw from the cold, his mass of dark curls are almost whitened out by the snow caught in them. He's all alone and looking rather embarrassed about being caught doing whatever it is he's doing. Jaime has no idea what that may be, but his money is on whatever he's hiding behind his back.
"Nothing." The boy mutters looking down at the snow on the ground while he shifts from foot to foot. Jaime's slightly amused at the childlike shyness.
"Half of Winterfell's looking for you. Your brother’s very upset you ran away." He's trying to keep the scolding tone to a minimum, he's not the kid's father and he's not in a hurry to sound like his own anytime soon. He may technically be a father soon, but the child won't ever call him that. That's not a role he's suited for, and it takes more than the ability to make children to be a parent, something he knows he's not likely to be any good at anyway. But try telling Cersei that.
Jon looks pitifully up at him for a moment before returning his eyes downward. It occurs to Jaime that maybe he's been told not to look at people when he speaks. "Robb's mad at me? I wasn't going to stay away forever, I promise." Jon said to the snow instead of Jaime in a meak sad voice. He looks up once more to peek beyond Jaime, trying to see if he can get around him through the narrow clearing without being snatched. Part of Jaime, the part that can't turn down a competition, kind of wants him to try, the rational part is much too tired to chase after the child. He likely knows these woods better than Jaime does, and Ned Stark wouldn't appreciate his efforts to get his son back to him anyway.
"What do you have there," he points to the boy's still hidden hand behind his back.
"and don't say 'nothing'. You're not a very good liar." Jaime tells him.
The boy looks back to the snow being kicked beneath his boots. Jaime notices that he's not nervously shuffling, though that's what he's trying to make it look like, he's actually burying something with his feet. 'Okay, maybe a better liar than I thought' Jaime thought to himself. The kid runs then, making a dash to Jaime's right. It's smart for a four year old. The kid knows the knight can't grab him and draw any weapons with his sword hand at the same time. Jaime's a bit disturbed at the idea of a four year old having the forethought to pull off such strategic thinking. He wonders what exactly these Northerners teach their children all the way up here, then he remembers that his father had him sparring with real blades since he was ten.
Since Jaime has no intention of drawing any weapons he has the boy under his arm in about five seconds. "Nice try." He taunts him.
He struggles, but he's just a little boy, and a small one at that. He weighs next to nothing for the Kingsguard. That doesn't stop the boy from flailing around all four of his tiny limbs, kicking and punching, he even tried to bite at Jaime's fingers at one point.
"Calm down." Jaime scolds when he investigates what the boy wanted to hide, all he finds are a few burnt matches half buried in the snow. Jon still had the box in his little hand; the hand that’s beating against Jaime's armour with all the strength a child can muster, creating a sharp hollow sound that disturbed the silence of the woods.
"You like playing with fire?" Jaime asks him harshly. Memories of horrible smelling burning flesh and the manic laughter over howling screams are never far from his mind at any given moment, but they're especially at the front of his mind now. The accusation disguised as a question made Jon stop his useless assault on Jaime, going completely still and starts to whimper. Jaime’s afraid he'd hurt him somehow with the way Jon's tears roll down his little round cheeks and his ragged breathing bordering on hysterically.
"Hey, it's okay." Jaime assures him awkwardly as he moves the boy from under his arm like a sack of potatoes to sitting him on his hip.
"You shouldn't be playing with it though, fire's dangerous." He would know better than most, but the mention of fire only makes the boy cry harder.
"No, you don't understand. Something's wrong." He whimpered.
"What's wrong? We'll fix it." Jaime promises. He has no idea if he can keep that promise, but he wants to calm him down a little before handing him back over to the Stark family. He's stopped crying at least, but he still looks more like a man facing certain death than the happy four year old he'd seen throwing snowballs at his brother yesterday.
"Me. I'm wrong." He whispers brokenly to Jaime like he's confessing to the trees he no doubt prays to in these very woods. Jaime's tried to make himself heartless in recent years, but that answer got to him. He put Jon back on the ground to look at his face better. One hand still resting on his arm in case he tried to run again.
"You're not wrong. None of you is wrong." Jaime remembers saying something similar to Tyrion once upon a time. 'It's not your fault how you came into this world.' He’d told his little brother. Jon isn't a dwarf, but he assumed a bastard might feel just as ostracized. Accepted but not really welcomed.
"I am wrong. Look" Jon insists while he strikes another match alight. Jaime will deny to his dying day that it made him nauseous being so close to the flame. He’s shaken from his stupor when Jon holds the lit match close enough to burn himself with the flame.
"NO!" Jaime yells. He smacks the match out of Jon's hand to turn his palm up so he could see how badly the stupid little boy has hurt himself.
Except that there is no burn, Jon didn't scream or flinch or cry. Just a black soot residue remains on his tiny palm. Jaime doesn't understand how that could be. He thought maybe given his bad history with fire that his mind exaggerated how much danger a single flame could possess.
"See." Jon says quietly. Jaime looks at him, then back to all the matches Jon had tried to hide in the snow. Once could be explained away by luck, but all those matches with harmful flames that hadn't left a mark was not possible.
"Something's wrong with me. My father's going to send me away. I used to want to go away, but I don't anymore- and now they're going to take me away!" Jon rushed out in panic. He looks as terrified as Jaime felt.
He looks at the boy, really looks at him for the first time. He looks like a Stark, especially when compared with his Tully colored brother, but those curls aren't the same as Stark curls; neither is his jaw or the shape of his eyes; his eye color is a close match to the Stark likeness, dark pools of grey somehow just a piercing as Ned Stark's icy gaze, but they too aren’t quite right; when the light hits them a certain way hints of dark violet can be seen. Jaime recognizes it all. They're dangerous features to have and he's lucky that a decent study of his face is required to notice them.
Jaime had thought that the Mad King's ravings about his family blood of Old Valyria being immune to fire were just the rantings of a man that had lost his mind. Yet here’s Jon Snow, with Targaryen curls and dark purple tinted eyes, unburt by fire.
Jaime doesn't know how Jon is here, and he doesn't want to know. He considers killing him; it’d be easy, like snapping a twig. He could make it painless and just walk away for him to be found later. A Targaryen spawn could be a threat to the King, and more importantly to Cersei and their child. This boy could grow mad like Aerys and burn Winterfell to the ground; he's a sweet kid now, but Aerys was once loved by the people for being a kind and benevolent King.
‘What was Stark thinking?’ he wonders, but then Jaime pictures Robert and his temper, how he’d be more than happy to rip this boy apart slowly for a heritage he doesn’t even seem to be aware of out of pure hatred. He’d also kill the Starks if he finds out. All the Starks. Not in a merciful way either
'Robert will string up those children as an example of what treason gets you.'
Jaime thought with a sick feeling curling in his gut and the memory of another family literally torn apart for the sake of Robert. ‘For Cersei too.’ The guilty voice in the back of his mind reminds him, the voice he easily ignores most days.
Rhaenys and Aegon weren’t shown mercy by any means, but they were spared from Robert at the fucking least. With them dead Robert would enjoy slowly murdering any Targaryen he could get his hands on. Even the four year old child of his best friend. He knows that, Ned knows that too apparently given that no one knows who Jon's, apparently Targaryen, mother is.
He thinks back to the happy boy just hours ago playing in the snow and he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. Aerys did so much harm and damage while he was alive, Jaime was not about to let him do more after his death. He wouldn’t let his ghost haunt an innocent boy, there was just no point. Besides, what better way to get some petty revenge on Robert than by letting his most trusted friend in the world, the honorable Ned Stark, raise his Targaryen bastard right under the drunken King's nose.Try as he might to destroy it there's still a heart behind his armor, and he's never been the type to say no to want he wants.
"It's okay. No one's going to take you away." He promises. He kneels down to wipe away his tears and allows a dangerous edge to his next words. "As long as you never tell anybody about this; not a maester, not your brother, not your uncle, not even your father. You understand?" Jon nods his head the best he could in between Jaime's hands. Understanding his dark tone to have dire consequences attached.
"What about you?" Jon asks. His eyes narrow at Jaime, suspicion evident even on his young features. He didn't trust Jaime to keep his secret. He's not surprised.
"I promise not to tell either." Jaime assured him.
"Swear it." Jon demands suddenly.
"What?"
"You're a knight, swear it. . .please."
Jaime was taken aback. He didn't think anybody would trust his word as a knight ever again, least of all a Stark; or a Targaryen for that matter. The irony is almost enough to make him laugh, instead he puts his right hand over his heart.
"I swear it." He promised again. That proved enough to convince Jon and he began to wipe his own tears away. His little face is still blotchy shades of pink, his eyes were puffy and red rimmed, and he sniffs up his runny nose every few minutes. Jaime isn't looking forward to the scornful glares of the Starks when they see that Jon had obviously been crying while alone with him.
Jaime stood up and reached his hand out to Jon. The little boy had to reach above his head to take it, but he still does. Jon is really the one leading the lost Jaime out of the forest, but Jaime didn't need to tell anyone that. They're close to the entrance when they both see Benjen Stark riding towards them through the thinning trees.
Jon let go of his hand and runs towards his uncle with a squeak of delight. Benjen dismounts his horse and drops to one knee to embrace the boy running to him. Jaime watches awkwardly from a far as the watchman holds the boy tightly with a look of relief on his face, like Jon is his own. It occurred to Jaime that he might be. Perhaps the young Benjen Stark had found a Blackfyre Targaryen descendant to have some fun with before he took his vows and his big brother had to step in to keep his secret. It didn't make sense though; Benjen had been in Winterfell for all of the rebellion when Ned brought little Snow back from Dorne with his sister's bones. "A life lost and a life gained" he heard Jon Arryn say to Stark.
Benjen pulled away and looks Jon over for injuries while Jon mutters assurances that he’s okay. Benjen sees Jon's still blotchy cheeks and sad puffy eyes. He glared over Jon at Jaime. 'Seven fucking Hells' Jaime thought. 'Is there nothing you people won't blame me for.'
"You have to stop this Jon. You promised you’d stop running." Benjen scolds his nephew. "Do you have any idea what your father would do if something happened to you?” Benjen wasn't really asking Jon as much as he was warning Jaime that he'd be killed, or worse, if he'd hurt the boy. Jaime believed him too.
"I’m sorry.” Jon says. Ashamed of disappointing his uncle. Benjen just pulled him close to his chest again.
“I know you are.” Benjen says softly. “Lets go make it right.” Benjen picks Jon up and gets back on his horse. He scowls at Jaime from atop his literal high horse with Jon seated in front of him.
“You know your way back?” he asks.
‘Ever the good first ranger’ Jaime thought spitefully before replying. "I got here didn’t I.”
Benjen didn’t say anything to that. He just rolled his eyes and turned to ride back to Winterfell leaving Jaime alone to walk back. Instead of immediately heading back, he backtracked his and Jon's footprints in the snow to the used matches that lay forgotten on the forest floor. He knew it was unnecessary, if someone found them they'd assume someone was trying to light a fire, not burn themselves unsuccessful. He still had to get rid of them for some reason, it would drive him crazy if he didn’t. He digs a hole all the way through the snow and into the semi frozen ground with only his hands and buries them.
He looked to the face of the heart tree when he's finished, feeling watched by the wooden eyes dripping red sap tears the whole time. He swears that the thing is smiling right at him, as if he's pleased the old Gods with his mercy.
"I didn't do it for you." He says out loud. He didn't do it for his own seven either, truth be told. He doesn't know why he does the things he does, only that he doesn't do them for any God. If they were real, they probably don't care that much anyway.
By the time he made it back to Winterfell the sun was fully up over the horizon and everyone was gathered in the dining hall. Jon is sitting on Ned's knee, the Lord is actually smiling for once, obviously happy and relieved to have his son in his arms again. Jon's face isn't so puffy now and Jaime wouldn't have been able to tell he'd been crying if he hadn’t been the one wiping away his tears, but Jaime was sure Benjen had told Lord Stark all about how he'd found his beloved bastard crying and alone in the clutches of the evil Kingslayer. Robb looks over the moon to have his little brother back, which makes Lady Catelyn cross if her pursed lips and stiff posture is anything to go by.
Jaime finds it ironic that Stark hates him for killing the man that executed his father and brother, but adores the woman that clearly longs to see a son he loves dead.
Stark looks up and they lock eyes for a moment. The rare smile he’d had on slips off his face and the infamous stoic, unreadable expression takes its place.
‘It’s not so unreadable.’ Jaime thought as he could see the clear disapproval in Ned’s eyes. He’s seen it enough in his Father’s to know it well. Jaime gives a smile, not a predatory smirk, but a real smile. Afterall, what doesn’t he have to smile about; Aerys is dead, his sister is Queen, he’s still a Kingsguard, they’re together at last, and he’d be back with her soon enough and leave this freezing wasteland behind him.
He has everything he could ever want. Jaime may not be as clever as his brother and sister, but he knows that it’d be stupid to rock the boat now. It has nothing to do with the fact that saving Jon may relieve the pain in his chest he's been carrying for the past four years. Absolutely nothing at all.
¤●¤
They’d be leaving tomorrow. It was supposed to be that morning, but Lady Arryn is throwing some kind of fit. Jaime quietly observed Jon from afar in the meantime. He'd tried not to, but how could he not. He was a broody child, but when he had fun it's a heartwarming thing to witness. He watches from the balcony as Robb and Jon build a fortress made of ice and snow in the courtyard, Robb’s chattering on about how they should build a tall tower while Jon explains that the snow is too wet and soft, a tower that tall could collapse on top of them.
Jaime’s a little envious of the bond they share. Him and Tyrion are close and they love each other, but they have vastly different interests. The brains and the brawn of Lannister’s so to speak. Jon and Robb are practically twins age wise. Him and Cersei had-
Jaime cut off that line of thinking abruptly.Their relationship is incomparable.
“I told you!” Jon laughs at his brother while he digs Robb out of the collapsed foundations of their snow tower. Robb jumps up to tackle Jon to the ground and sits on him as a thank you.
“Get off me!” Jon hollers. “This isn’t fair!” he yells. Jaime felt odd observing something so innocent after years of horror. It isn't unpleasant though, even as an unwanted outsider. He wonders what type of bond his own children might share.
“That’s what you get for running away.” Robb teases, though he sounds sad at the idea.
“I was coming back!” Jon argues.
“Maybe now you’ll think twice about leaving.”
“I WAS COMING BACK!”
Ned looks over at the commotion then, “Robb, get off your brother.”
“I’m keeping him safe, father.” Robb argues. While only a few months older, Robb takes his role as big brother rather seriously.
“It won’t matter if he’s safe or not if he can’t breath.” Ned’s trying to sound authoritative, but he’s also trying not to laugh. Robb sighs but relents to his father’s orders. The moment Robb helps Jon up Jon jumps on his brother’s back.
“Hey!” Robb yells, crashing to the ground with an 'oof'. Ned sighs while pinching the bridge of his nose, exacerbated but also fond.
“Are you boy’s going to make me come down there?” Ned asks foreboding. Jon doesn’t appear fazed.
“Depends on how long it takes Robb to say sorry.” Jon sassed while still sitting atop Robb. Jaime isn't sure how no one else hasn't noticed this feisty dragon in wolf's clothing right in front of them as he laughs behind his hand. It wasn’t enough to muffle it from Ned though who glared at him.
“Jon!” Ned reprimands. A bit harsher than he normally would have had he not seen Jaime laughing, or just Jaime at all.
“Sorry.” Jon apologizes reluctantly and released his brother.
Ned nods, satisfied. He turns his attention to Jaime. “Shouldn’t you be guarding Jon?” He asks. Jaime knows Ned couldn’t give less of a shit about his responsibilities, he just wants him away from his children. Jaime gives a smirk, "which Jon? I'm getting confused." he asks pointing below to Ned's boys. Lord Stark looks positively murderous at that. Jaime can take the ‘Kingslayer’ whispers. He did slay the King, he was a crazy old man that enjoyed hurting people and about to blow up the capital so he could come back to life as a dragon and burn some more, so yes, he shoved his sword into Aerys Targaryen and he's not sorry about it. What he can’t stand is the silent accusations, the ones from Ned, and Benjen, even Lady Stark seems to think lesser of him since he found Jon. The stares and the muttering as he walked by follow him everywhere, he won't take it lying down. “Tell me, what terrible, horrifying, unforgivable things do you think I’ve done to your little bastard?” He asks bluntly.
It’s worth it to see the near terrified look on Ned's face, thinking that Jaime was about to admit "what he'd done" to his boy, but being true to his reputation as the Quiet Wolf, Ned holds it in. Looking as stoic as he possibly can. "That's a good question. He won't talk about it." Ned says with a poisonous hatred in his voice. Jaime supposed that didn't look good, but at least the kid can keep a secret. If Ned knew what Jaime had found out he would likely throw him off the balcony and make it look like an accident. He looks away and sees none other than Jon looking nervously up at them from below with his big dark eyes full of fear. He runs away when Ned notices him too. Jaime turned back to Ned.
"Well then, I guess you'll never know." He said smugly. Jaime had no doubt in his mind that Ned Stark was about to punch him in the face right then and there had his Lady wife not called him and Robb in for lunch.
Jaime was walking back to his post when he almost tripped over Jon. 'Why are these Stark brats so quiet?' He thought before he noticed that Jon looked absolutely devastated up at him.
"You swore not to tell." He accused in a tiny voice. Jaime realized that he thought he'd told Ned their secret when he saw them just now. Jaime kneeled down so he could speak quietly to the boy.
"I did, and I meant it. I didn't say anything." He told him. Jon relaxed a little, but not much.
"But he looked so angry." Jon argued. Jaime winced a bit on the inside. There's something he has to ask before he leaves.
"Do you ever get angry?" he asks the boy.
Jon looked confused at the shift in conversation but answered honestly anyway. "Yes, sometimes." he said, he sounds ashamed of it. “Old Nan says that everyone gets mad sometimes.” Jaime figured he's definitely at least half Stark after all if the boy thought he had to defend having feelings, but Jaime has to know what he means by that. "I mean really mad, like you might- might hurt someone?" Jaime explained hesitantly. Jon's eyebrows pinch together as he thinks about it.
"Sometimes when father won't tell me about my mother I get really mad and hit the straw man with a stick, but I think I might just get mad because it makes me sad." Jon told him.
Jaime let out a relieved breath he hadn't meant to hold at that tragically sad answer. "You're a good lad." He told Jon. The boy gave a shrug like he didn’t particularly care if Jaime thought he was good or not, but his pink cheeks told Jaime he took the complement to heart. "You are going to be just fine, Jon Snow." Jaime told him. He isn't sure if he’s trying to comfort Jon or convince himself of that.
“You’re a lot nicer than people say you are.” Jon says giving a compliment back. ‘I’m not.’ Jaime thought. ‘But you could be’ that annoying voice he can’t seem to get rid of whispers optimistically.
¤●¤
The next time Jaime sees Jon Snow he’s kneeling on the ground behind his father and half siblings with the Greyjoy hostage. Jaime hadn't thought much of the secret Targaryen Stark child in the cold north, in fact he hadn't spared him a thought at all until he found out they'd be riding up north after Jon Arryn's funeral. There was no need to think of Jon Snow, who was far away and likely had no real claim to the throne anyways.
He doesn’t look anymore Targaryen now then he did then, just subtle little details hidden among his predominant Stark features.Then there was something in the way he stood up. Jaime felt the world stop. He swore he was screaming, but he feels he has no control of his body, trapped in his own skin. He feels lightheaded and his heart's pounding so fast his chest hurts. It was a split second, but Jaime had just caught a glimpse of a ghost he never thought he'd see in the flesh again. He saw the Last Dragon.
It made his stomach curl unpleasantly and the shiver that goes down his spine has nothing to do with the northern chill, in fact he found himself sweating in his suddenly too heavy armor. With one look it all came crashing back onto him, seventeen years worth of nightmares and regrets he hadn't let himself dwell on are flooding his body with pure dread and anxiety that are making it hard to breath. He must be composing himself somehow because no one's looking at his strange or asking him if he's okay while he feels like he's dying in the middle of the cold courtyard.
It all made so much sense now; Rhaegar’s promise of change wasn’t just a promise to depose his father, it was a promise of new life.
'Watch over my family, things will be different when I return.' Rhaegar had asked of him.
He thought they were safe, but he made the same fatal mistake so many had about his own father, he'd underestimated how far he was willing to go to further house Lannister's interests. Ned Stark is turning out to be either smarter than anyone thought or just fucking lucky. He’d gone to save his sister, came back with a baby he claimed as his own, and everyone believed him. Jaime included. He’s Ned Stark after all, how could he lie. Now it’s painfully clear that Jon Snow is not Ned Stark’s son, he is Lyanna and Rhaegar’s.
The wolf maid had supposedly died from a fever, however the rumor was that there was a still born child that Ned buried in the crypts with his sister. Robert decreed that anyone who uttered that rumor would have their tongue removed, but people still remember. Apparently the only thing Ned Stark had buried was the truth. Just like Jaime had buried those matches years ago. 'No.' He tries to push that thought deep down and lock it away never to be accepted. If he accepts it, this means he has a second chance at keeping his promise to Rheagar, but hadn’t he already? He's kept his mouth shut about Jon. He's kept Lord Stark's secret for over a decade.
It's different now though. Jon's the rightful heir, not some distant Targaryen relative that didn't deserve Robert's wrath. He still doesn't deserve it, he's still just a boy. Jaime knows he should tell somebody, he made a vow to his family and this kid could topple everything his family had worked for. He could just start the rumor, gossip would reach the King eventually and it would be done. Rheagar had never come back anyways, so what does it matter if he breaks a promise he's already broken.
'How am I always breaking one vow to keep another?' He wonders.
Ned and Robert left for the crypts, and he’s been staring for too long to go unnoticed. Jon looks over at him with a confused expression, like he recognizes him but can’t remember where from. He had only been four years old when they met after all, it’s possible he has forgotten. ‘Good.’ Jaime doesn’t want him to remember. He was smart at four, he’d be able to put two and two together if he ever remembered.
Jon looks away and shifts uncomfortably where he’s forced to stay standing, not liking the attention. Whether it’s because he thinks that he’s being noticed as the bastard or if it’s simply because it’s the gaze of someone he thinks to be a stranger, Jaime can’t tell. It reminds him of Rhaegar nonetheless, the fake political smiles and fawning attention of the royal court drained the Prince. He’d gotten used to all the attention, but he never really enjoyed it, accept when he was singing. The kingsguard could now see more of Rhaegar in him the longer he looked. He should have said something years ago.
Jaime can't help but recall the child Jon had been; kind but wild, scared yet brave, and thinking the best of people. Even the Kingslayer. He could rationalize it as a child's innocence, knowing he's the 'Kingslayer' but not really understanding what it meant, but that didn't change the fact that Jon had trusted his word, as both a knight and as a man when no one else was willing to.
'You're a lot nicer than people say you are.' He remembers him saying.
Again, Jaime found that he just couldn't do it, he couldn't betray that vow. He'd keep Jon safe. From Robert, Cersei, Tywin, the whole bloody lot of them. There’s only one way to do that; say nothing. He's been doing that for seventeen years, it should be easy by now. Just look the other way when they call him bastard the same way he looks the other way when they call him Oathbreaker. It's easier than he'd like it to be.
"Where is our brother?" Cersei's question bringing him back to the present. "Go and find the little beast." She ordered. He goes wordlessly to find Tyrion, who hopefully had some kind of alcohol with him when he did, he needs a drink for more than one reason. 'It's going to be an interesting time at Winterfell.' Jaime thought. He hadn't expected how very right he was about to be.