Chapter Text
The Lannister caravan disappeared in the distance, trailing lazily among the first rays of the sun.
They had procured everything needed for the wedding in the capital, sent invitations and messengers in advance towards Winterfell and Lannister lands for preparations to be made ready for the traveling party’s arrival to Casterly Rock.
Sansa had stubbornly attached herself to Jeyne’s leaving party. Claiming she needed to be there and help in her sister’s wedding. She had packed her bags, her wolf and refused to be convinced otherwise. With Lady Genna’s full support on her behalf (and Jeyne’s approval) Ned had been unable to refuse the request least he offends the Lannister House.
He knew that woman’s name still resonated in the Highborn’s mouths many years after her marriage so there was no doubt of her qualifications to take his daughter under her wing and Sansa would benefit greatly of her connections.
Instead, he could just hope that Jeyne would learn something just by being in close proximity to the woman.
At least his baby girl had agreed to refrain from consumating the marriage until the ceremony was finished, if only because it could damage her sister’s chances of getting married to a groom of their choice.
It was only then that Jeyne had begrudgingly agreed, but a victory was a victory in Ned’s books.
And he had had so few of those ever since Jeyne passed her eight nameday.
He had sent a message to his son, who would go on his behalf to Jeyne’s wedding, to take a hard look to his daughter’s treatment in Lannister’s lands. The lad was young but he wouldn’t hesitate to take his sister’s away if anything wrongful was taking place.
However, as crazy as it may seem, he dared to think that there wouldn’t be anything to worry about. He had great faith in Jeyne and looking at the three Lannister’s devoted eagerness for the wedding… well, everything coming from that corner seemed assured.
Anyway, it would still be best for his second daughter to go to Casterly Rock for a while (and how just thinking that pained him!), just like Sansa, he wasn’t very happy with Joeffrey’s coinceited manners. With time, perhaps the boy would grow into himself. Or, with luck, get infatuated with another Lady forgetting all about his daughter so that he wouldn’t have to break his friend’s heart and ask him to retract their promise of the engagement.
Furthermore. Queen Cersei seemed to have some strong protests against her brother’s marriage that the Lannister Head of House was blatantly ignoring. That seemed to affect her mood which was then directed nastyly towards Sansa.
Not even her daughter's objections, the Queen's complaints, seemed to make a dent in Tywin Lannister’s resolve to get his son married as fast as he could.
Poor deluded foolish Old Lion.
Did he thought getting a Stark in his family was such a piece of cake? Did he believe getting a Targaryen into his family bloodline was an easy thing?
Ha!
He had raised a Dragon for fifteen years. Now that it was grown, he had to release her into the wild.
What would it do now?
Built a nest amongst the cliffs and rest?
Or, would it swallow the world and reign over it like all those before her?
Soon, the Lannisters will learn.
And others will remember what they had forgotten.
What it means to live at the same time as a Targaryen.
Just wondering how long it would take for his daughter to take over everything the man had, brought a content smile to the Lord Stark's lips.
Though Jamie had wanted to impress his beloved with his hunting skills, which admittedly were lower that his sword skills, he had to give up gracefully no more than one hour later.
His Jeyne decided to go with the hunting party, wearing one of her delightful mounting pants, and his gaze had thus been effectively distracted from any possible existing game. He was admiring her figure, protecting her from any wandering gaze not his own, throwing ferocious glares to anyone daring to look her way.
She was only his. His, because she chose him and she allowed him.
He had to take care that she wouldn’t change her mind.
So, he wanted her to see he could provide for her in any way, thus the showing her how good he could be at hunting. Which did not go according to plan.
“Goods, look at that!” One of his Lannister cousins exclaimed for the third time. He was one of the main hunters in his father’s caravan. The others in the hunting party gasped and pointed not very discreetly towards his fiancée.
Among the tree leaves, she had her arm still extended after releasing her arrow, her back straight and her braided hair resting behind her, she looked like an ancient forest goddess bathed in sunlight.
Jaime felt his chest inflate with awe and then with pride when it was revealed that her arrow had struck true and instantly killed a mature deer.
His fiancée kept gathering more and more game and the hunting’s party admiration kept on growing. And when they returned to camp and she began expertly helping to skin and bleed her hunting spoils…
Ahhh, Jamie had never thought someone covered in sweat and blood could be so, so, tempting…
How he wished the wedding day could come faster.
By the time half the party is awake, the band of thieves is scrambling to run away as soon as possible. They seem to have quickly realized they tried to take on more they can manage.
Some servants are huddled in places and other knights are naturally forming teams to chase after the stragglers. The quick witted are turning on torches to help illuminate the camp more properly while others are arranging the things that got thrown away in the fighting.
Tywin is sending people to check on their people, luggage and reserve food when he hears the commotion.
On the edge of the camp, surrounded by people watching the proceeding, his Northerner daughter-in-law drags an unconscious man tied by his legs. By his attire is obvious he is one the man who had just tried to rob them blind.
She’s smiling contently and singing while she swings the rope and secures it with difficult knots to a sturdy tree.
No one seems inclined to stop her, and Tywin feels intrigued when she begins to gather some rocks and branches directly under the man.
Then, she cuts the man’s clothes and sets the little pyre on fire.
She is holding the final rope, and whenever she relaxes her grip, the man falls behind towards the fire. When she gathers the rope, the hanging man returns to higher ground, but that places him directly in front of her.
It’s like a little game, the man comes and goes while she is testing the rope.
Then, he wakes up, and screams.
He screams and pleads in a pathetic way but his daughter in law seems inclined to ignore him.
From afar, thanks to the fire, the Lannister Head of House can see the knife gleaming in her right hand whenever she makes another cut in the thief. Taunting him, mocking him and throwing him to the fire whenever she feels like it. It’s quite the sight.
He goes near and hears the gossip among his men.
It seems his son had been fighting two men when another had ambushed him from behind, the filthy thief lucked out and made a cut in his left arm. His daughter in law, discontent, had then caught the man intending to pay him back.
He can hear the murmuring everywhere, praising her, shocked mumbles admiring her and voices talking about how dazzling and astounding she is.
Among the crowd he can see his son in front, looking flustered but glowing, he seems happy and flattered by his fiancée taking revenge for him. Near his son there are some relatives he gets along well enough; they’re jarring and pocking at him about his perfect fiancée. His Jamie, bless his youthful soul, gets red in the face but stands his ground radiating nothing but pride.
But Tywin can see beyond all these fools.
It’s a warning, of blood and fire, spreading with heart-rending screams and a smell of burnt human flesh in the camp.
A warning for thieves.
A warning for Lannister, Stark and every other great House.
It’s a notice as well as an announcement to all that will hear of this tale from now on.
That any who dare to touch Jamie Lannister shall meet their end through her hands.
It’s bold, dangerous and vicious.
Just like a roar from a Lannister should be.