edge_of_forever | (no subject)

It had been days, weeks if he had counted correctly, though, with constant sun or moon the days seemed to blur from one to the next -- connected by a string of endless confusion and incredible indifference and apathy. He had lived to see a year come and go in the dank cells of Riverrun, he had faced Robb Stark and his direwolf, he had lost the most beloved thing to him -- his sword hand and now he was on a ship with no sails that traversed an ocean of black instead of blue and none of it made sense to him.

Of the few pleasant thoughts he had of his father was the night his mother died giving birth to Tyrion. Casterly Rock had been a riot that night, maids running in and out of the room with hot water and clean sheets, he had to hold back Cersei from running into the room. I want to see, Jaime! I'll have babies one day, I want to know! She battled with him but he didn't let her, father would be angry if she barged in. But, later that night after the screams of his mother had faded away and died out to the sounds of Tyrion's tears Jaime was taken out onto the balcony of his father's room. Tywin's heavy had rested on Jaime's shoulder and he explained that his mother was gone, that she had gone off into the stars to be with the gods. It had been the only time Jaime had seen his father vulnerable and now that day meant nothing, the stars were a place like any other with comings and goings and among those coming and going ... was not his mother.

He had made no friends in this place. He didn't understand it and if he had spent a year in the captivity of Robb Stark, he could survive a year here -- it was far more pleasant than any cell he'd ever seen. It was a cell nonetheless and he wandered its halls like a ghost that went mostly unseen and unheard from and although that image of his mother in the stars had been ripped from him by this place there was something incredibly pleasant about watching those stars slowly creep by and from the observation deck he saw them best. As he paced toward the enormous floor to ceiling window his arms came behind his back, his only hand gripping just above the scared flesh of where his right hand had once been.

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She was better than Cersei had ever been. She was able to control herself in ways that his sister could only lash out, rave and throw things. "I'm sure that little shit is alive and well," if he knew his brother he had talked himself into safety. Tyrion had the ability to talk himself or buy his way into the skirts of a septa if he wished it, Jaime didn't doubt his survival skills. He had survived the Vale, the Battle of Blackwater but his greatest feat was surviving King's Landing.

"It would make us family," his smile was actually genuine as impossible as they may seem for a Lannister. "I'm sorry we had not crossed paths sooner," not necessarily. Meeting her soon would mean he had to admit to being who he was and whatever came with being who he was.

Her nose wrinkled at his use of lewd language, and she raised a brow - clearly some form of really? as she sighed. "I of course hope for his continued health." She seemed to mean it as well, even though - even though she'd thought about it, and while she had no apparent enemy in Tyrion Lannister, her husband had 'helped' her in almost no ways at all - besides saving her, once. Saving her from the blades of the Kingsguard, of being stripped in the public square. That, she was grateful for - and she considered it repayed. She married him. She became a Lannister, technicaly.

And a Lannister always pays her debts.

"I largely keep to myself," she said quietly of why they had not met. "But I have been here since the first day." She paused for a moment, and then- "As family, may I ask you a favor?" Her blue eyes sparked with intelligence, but it was a careful request. "There are many here who know me as Alayne Stone. I will... explain to them, but please do not take it upon yourself to do so, if it would come up." She knew very well that he may ask her why, but if he did or he did not, she still must ask it all the same.

He would explain that he wasn't exactly himself, had he known that she was insulted by his lewdness but it was somewhat Jaime's way -- though, in front of a Lady as exiled as her family was, as tarnished as her reputation was ... well, it was only befitting her station and her relation to him for him to be far more respectful. "Don't we all," he mocked when she spoke of Tyrion's health. After his confessions to murdering Joffrey and what hurt him far worse ... she's been fucking Lancel and Osmund Kettleblack and probably Moon Boy for all I know. But, that was beyond his control or care now. She had moved past him, as much as he begged her for what they had always wanted and was now in her power to have, she resisted anyway. He was no longer who he had been and was mostly worthless. So, he cared little for everyone ... as everyone could care little for him.

"The first day?" He didn't know exactly when that had been since he had kept entirely to himself and had learned little to nothing since he arrived but her request for a favor made his brows rise slightly, "if it is within my power." Alayne Stone, she was making herself pass as a bastard ... but that didn't matter here and his brows furrowed with confusion. "Why, mas I ask?"