Chapter Text
The guards were flooding the castle. Her father was a traitor, or at least that’s what they’d tried to force her to believe. She hadn’t seen her younger sisters, Arya or Sansa, but she knew that she had to do meet them on the other side of this. There was no other way.
“My lady.” Her heart stopped as she turned to face the voice. Jaime Lannister. She thought they’d become friends, but of course that went to hell the moment he’d hurt her father in that courtyard.
“Kingslayer.” She curtseyed, before beginning to run back up the stairs she’d come down on, the sound of metal clanging chasing her. She slammed the door behind her, locking it. She began to try and barricade, only to hear Jaime banging.
“Y/N!” He shouted through the door. “Let me in and I’ll keep you safe I swear it.”
“Because your oaths mean so much.” She replied, her voice dripping with an angry sarcasm. She knew that would hurt his ego, but she also didn’t care, not anymore.
“I have a solution, please.” He begged. She’d never heard him beg before.
She hesitated, a box in her arms that she’d planned block the door with. “And how do I know you’ve not got an army of gold cloaks on the other side of this door, waiting to arrest me?”
“You don’t,” He sighed, “You have to trust me.”
“I don’t trust you any further than I can throw you.” She replied, but she unlocked the door, hoping a little risk might pay off.
He heard the lock click and his hand pushed the door open. The room was a mess where she’d began to take things apart to put in front of the door. The bed sheet was even already ripped, ready to make a rope for herself. Jaime couldn’t deny the fact that he was impressed by her speed.
She was standing by the window, breathing heavily. Her chest moving up and down. She wasn’t sure if her breathlessness came from her rushing about, or her fear. She hid it well, but the thought of her family in danger terrified her more than she thought was possible.
“I… I have a solution.” Jaime began tentatively. He thought about approaching her, trying to comfort her, but he knew better.
“So you’ve said.” She snapped back. A smirk formed on Jaime’s lips.
“I can take it away and call the city watch if you’d rather?” He raised his eyebrows, knowing that would shut her up. She needed to listen if this was going to work.
“Okay.” She whispered. Jaime took her newfound quiet as a queue that he could relax a little. He said down on the torn mattress. He beckoned for her to join him, but she shook her head. Jaime sighed, this was going to be harder than he’d hoped.
“Y/N, will you marry me?” Jaime said, attempting a dashing grin in her direction.
She grabbed the jug of wine on the table next to him, and threw it in his face, before standing rigidly against the window again.
“I’ll admit,” Jaime finally said, wiping his eyes, “that’s not the response I was hoping for.”
“Well, what were you expecting?” She half screeched, half laughed. How could he be so nonchalant?
“Let me explain myself.” He continued to wipe himself down. She grabbed a towel from the floor and walked over to him, sitting herself on the bed, offering the soft towel to him. He nodded and took it. They sat silent for a moment, Jaime cleaning wine from his uniform, her sitting silently watching him.
“My father’s never wanted me to be a knight.” Jaime spoke as he continued to clean himself down. She couldn’t tear her eyes away as he slid the towel up and down his muscular arms, wiping away the red of the wine. “He’s always wanted me to be the Lord of Casterly Rock, but it’s never appealed to me until now. I’ll give up my knighthood to protect you, I’ll marry you, Lady Stark.”
“But I don’t understand, why?” She stared at him, still enchanted by his looks but also bewildered by his proposal.
“Because whilst we may not love one another,” He raised his eyebrows and she blushed, “I have grown fond of you. You’re not like- well you’re not like any other woman I’ve had the pleasure of being with, and I think perhaps one day you’ll be able to make this up to me.”
She wasn’t sure whether to believe him. Hell, Jaime wasn’t even sure he believed himself. His reason wasn’t exactly a lie. He was fond of the oldest Stark girl. He’d watched her be kind to Tyrion at Winterfell, and then again act nobly when confronted by Joffrey on the travels down from Winterfell to Kings Landing, including sacrificing her beloved dire-wolf for her sister’s continued betrothal to the prince. Yes, he was certainly fond of the girl, but his motivation remained the same as it had for the majority of his life; Cersei.
Jaime had done everything for her, he’d even pushed the Stark boy from the tower to keep their relationship a secret, but things had changed. Joffrey had become more manic, more obsessed with the idea of power, and now that Robbert was dead, Cersei was sure to put the boy on the throne. Jaime couldn’t support it, not anymore. He was the boy’s father, and yet he wasn’t, not really. This was his attempt to save his wrong doings, save the things that were right in the world, and she was what was right with the world in his eyes.
She took a deep breath. She had to make a decision that she didn’t have time to make. Jaime was the Kingslayer, oath breaker, rumoured sister fucker. But what choice did she have? He’d never done anything cruel to her, and this was her chance to save her family. Poor Sansa and Arya still in the Keep, not knowing what was happening. She had to go through with it.
“I accept your proposal, Lord Jaime.” She said, after what felt like an eternity.
“Then it’s decided.” Jaime stood up. “I’ll write to my father and tell him the good news.”
She stood up to join him, and he looked at her more intently. She blushed as he took her hand and kissed it softly.
“You’re safe now.” He whispered, and for the first time since leaving Winterfell, she felt like maybe she finally could be.