thirteen

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Robb Stark, his wife, and Catelyn Stark have been brutally murdered at a wedding. The "Red Wedding" they're calling it. Sansa won't speak to anybody not even to me.

I sit with Tyrion and Pod drinking wine.

"Your mother asked me about you two," Tyrion says.

My eyes go wide, "What did you say?"

"I said that you guys are just friends. Look you know your mother won't let you two be together. You have to be careful."

"We will my lord," Pod says.

Tyrion and I finish our glasses like nothing and Pod can barely get halfway with his.

"Keep up," Tyrion tells him.

"I don't think I can my lord."

Tyrion pours Pod and me more wine, "It's not easy being drunk all the time. Everyone would do it if it were easy."

I hear the door open and my mother walks in.

"Leave," she says. Pod and I leave. My mother is still angry with me. After all, I am the reason why she has to marry Ser Loras. She gives us a weird look at we walk out but Pod doesn't notice.

*

Pod and I sit on my balcony looking at the city below us. I hear the door open behind us. Pod and I both turn around and it's Jaime. His hair is long and he has a full beard. His looks drained, eyes almost lifeless. He's also missing his right hand. I feel my eyes start to fill with tears. I run up to him wrapping my arms around his neck he catches me with his left arm.

I let go, "What the hell happened to you?"

"It's a really long story."

"I thought you were never gonna come back," I say quietly, as a few tears falling down my face.

"I will always come back, okay?"

I nod.

"So who's this?" he asks referring to Pod.

I wipe my tears away, "This is my...friend Podrick."

"Friend?" he asks raising his eyebrows.

"Oh, Shut it."

*

"What are we doing here again?" I ask Tyrion.

"We are waiting to greet our guest."

"Why do I have to be here?" I ask with a sigh.

"Because you are the princess, you should at least make an appearance every once in a while."

Pod holds the Lannister sigil and Bronn is sitting down drinking.

"How many Dornish men does it take to fuck a goat?" Bronn randomly asks.

"Please don't," I say.

"Seems to me the smart place to meet travelers is in a tavern. The way one party late, the other can drink some ale inside."

"This is the Prince of Dorne we are waiting for," Tyrion says, "Not one of your sellsword friends."

"If he's so damned important how come they sent you to meet him?"

"There's bad blood between the Martells of Dorne and the Lannister's if Casterly rock. Has been for a year."

"And just in case the Martells of Dorne are looking to spill some Lannister blood it may as well be yours, eh?"

"No need for cynicism. I happen to be an accomplished diplomat."

"Oh," Bronn takes a drink of his ale.

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