Who: Ser Jaime Lannister & Yoooou!! What: We sure ain't in Westros no more :p Where: Massachusetts Street, When: Afternoon Rating: TBD but he does have a sword Status: In Progress
Jaime Lannister hadn't fled the city. That'd not how it would be told. The story would go simply thus, the Kingslayer rides North to fight for his brother. He'd attacked the Hand of the King yes, but Stark had admitted to having his wife capture Tyrion for suspicion of the attack on Bran Stark. The attack Jaime himself had carried out, and he wasn't going to let Tyrion pay for his crimes. So he would find a way to free him from the crazy Stark woman and her sister. Lysa Aryn in an ironic twist, he'd often watched the woman at court and thanked the gods he didn't believe in that he'd gotten free of that promise. How life had changed now, service to a Mad King and then a Fat one, more secrets than he could sometimes manage to keep in order. Love to a sister that was and remained a part of himself and yet he felt more free now than he had in years. He was the Lion of Lannister fighting for his family and that was all he had ever wanted to do. His family were the most important thing. Cersei, Tyrion and yes, the father he did all he could to please much as he was still so many years later upset about the loss of his heir.
He'd stopped to rest, his men standing guard. Loyal to House Lannister they would be loyal to him, much as he knew what they whispered, what they all did. Oathbreaker, Kingslayer. Never to his face of course. They feared him, and appropriately so. He was the best fighter in Westros. There was no denying that simple fact. With that thought in mind Jaime moved to wake his men, have his squire re saddle his horse so they could move on.
But there were no men. No squire and no horse. And suddenly, too suddenly, it was daytime again. It had still been early morning dewy and crisp the further North he'd gotten but now it was warm, balmy, more like Dorne or somewhere than where he'd been. And Jaime Lannister jumped back at a noise that whizzed past his ear, too fast to be anything he could fathom. His hand went to his sword instinctively and he wondered had he been wrong to laugh at the stories of magic and godly things.
If the Septas and faithful had been right all along he'd be very annoyed.
Another whizzing thing passed by and the sword was in his hand. And now there was screaming. and one man asking where he got his armour. Jaime didn't understand this place and he wasn't sure he wanted to either.