Who: Jaime Lannister & Isabela What: Clandestine and shady type meeting Where: Isabela's room When: Late evening 19th April Rating: TBD Status: In Progress
What was he doing?
What was he thinking? Was he thinking?
He just knew the conversation they were having, he couldn't have over such an impersonal device as the 'computer'. He was still unsure as to if he liked it or not. Things could get twisted in translation, said without thought. And expression meant so much in a discussion. He needed to talk to Isabela. His Martell-Greyjoy wench that was from a world similar to but yet so very unlike his own. A woman he'd have considered as no more than a baseborn tart with no right to speak to someone like him, let alone break his vows with. But what was one more oath broken to the so reviled Kingslayer. Honour was something he'd always wanted to hold on to, but little by little, choice by choice it got ripped away from him. Oaths made and broken, lies told for the good of other people, lies that hurt so many, and a secret lie that Tyrion had discovered in his time here. One of many. And his worst lies, his worst betrayals of the oaths he swore? It hadn't been Aerys at all. That, he still stood by as his finest acts. But his worst lies had lead to a tower in Winterfell, a decision that instead of going hunting he would stay back with his sister the Queen and share some time with her, and a discovery that had lead to the Stark boy being left cripple. And this, this was the man that Isabela said could find his honour again.
Cersei didn't care about honour. For her it was appearances. Oh she loved him, much as he loved her, but she would never give her love. He had always to ask. He had always to go to her. Take her in his arms, ask her for the affection he needed from her. She would give it, but only when he asked. But she had been always faithful. Always his. Bar the occasional times she'd had to fuck the fat oaf she married to keep up appearances, her heart was his. And Jaime's heart...well, Jaime didn't know what to make of what it was telling him.
He was going now to meet Isabela. The pirate wench who had so caught his attention. Who said things he didn't always want to hear but things that sometimes made so much sense it stopped him in his tracks. And the woman he'd thought he'd pushed away forever by rejecting yet another son of his. Three sons and a daughter and Jaime had laid his claim to none of them. Joffery most times didn't even feel like his son and Myrcella and Tommen were still so young and still had so much growing to do before he would know the kind of people they would become. He didn't know what Joff was. Not really. He only knew what he could see and the boy needed to be taken in hand. He needed to be taught.
His sister coddled him. ..
But fatherly affection was far from his mind. Most things were as he knocked on the wench's door sharply but quietly. Cersei did not stay here, prefering as he did to stay close to her...their...son But his sister had undoubtedly considered spies as much as the man, Moriarty had done. He hoped they'd never meet.