The Dargon Cub

Chapter 1

Prologue.

Pyke 289 AC

Jaime Lannister.

Jaime stood in his tent and began to remove his armor, the fighting was done and the rebellion had been quashed. Why the Iron Born had thought they could match the combined forces of most of the Seven Kingdoms was a mystery to him. Did they really think that Robert's rule was that fragile? Did they not understand that with Stark and Arryn, Robert controlled 3 kingdoms and with Cersei as his wife that gave him a fourth?. Even if the Reach didn't join in, which they had, that alone was surely too many for a pile of rocks to handle.

His father may have held back during Robert's rebellion but he'd never hold back with his blood on the throne. Then just to poke the Lion even more they decided it was a good idea to attack Lannisport. Were they really that dumb?. Evidently so, as now Balon Greyjoy sits a broken throne with two of his sons dead and the other to be a hostage to his good behavior. No doubt Robert would give that dubious honor to Stark, Jaime thought bitterly.

Jaime had felt alive in the carnage of the fighting, it was the only thing that actually did make him feel anything since that day in the Red Keep. He had failed his prince that day and no matter what he did since, that failure always kept coming back to him

"Look after my family, Jamie, things will change when I return" Rhaegar had said.

But Rhaegar hadn't returned and Jaime could have never known that his father would sink so low. Before his thoughts could get the better of him once again, he was interrupted by a boy at his tent.

"Ser Jaime, the king wishes to speak to you" the boy said nervously.

"Very well. I'll be there presently" Jaime replied.

As he entered the king's tent he could tell that this was no ordinary meeting. Eddard Stark sat there with the king, his usual serious expression showing on his long face. Wait what was that look? Was that pity? Who the hell does he think he is to pity me? Jaime thought as he looked at the man. His anger threatened to rise but before he could say anything, the king spoke very quietly and very unlike the jovial or even the angry Robert that he was used to.

"There have been bad tidings from Harlaw, I know no other way to say this other than to say it, your father he fell, Ser Jaime, he's gone" Robert said, as he looked at him.

The rest of the conversation had been a blur and he wasn't sure if he heard anything after the news about his father. Tywin Lannister, the Lord of Casterly Rock, the Lion of Lannisport, fallen to a damn Iron Born reaver. Surely this was wrong? Surely the messenger had been mistaken? Jaime clutched his chest, his breathing erratic, and then he fell down onto the ground and looked up to see Ned Stark above him offering him a hand. He brushed it away and forced himself to his feet and as he turned to leave the tent, the king began to speak.

"We need to...." Robert began.

"Not now your grace" Stark said angrily and for the first time, Jaime actually felt something other than contempt for the man.

Later as he sat in his tent he felt more composed or as much as he would be this day. He'd drank so many cups of water since he'd been told the news that he could now feel the results pushing against his bladder. So he walked outside to the nearest empty space and relieved the pressure, each drop making him more relaxed. He laughed at the absurdity of it all, here he was pissing against the wind while his father lay dead miles away. What a waste he thought as he placed his manhood back in his britches.

Heading back to his tent the realization began to dawn on him, his father was gone, and yet where there should be sadness he felt only relief. Oh for sure there was pain mixed in there also, but surprisingly the overriding emotion wasn't what it should have been. His father had been a monster, the events of the rebellion had proved that and so Jaime barely mourned the man, instead, it was the monster he thought of.

The body was covered in blood and the red Lannister banner covering it couldn't hide it all, but it was the two others that his eyes were focussed on. Smaller and yet equally blood-spattered, children they were only children.

Jaime stopped and the entire contents of his stomach emptied against the ground, though luckily he hadn't really eaten since he had heard the news of his father's death.

As he reached his tent the same small boy was standing there, no doubt bearing another message from the king.

"Ser Jaime" the boy began nervously.

"Let me guess, the king wishes my presence once again, very well lead the way young man" he said as he smiled at the boy and they began to walk towards the king's tent.

As before when he entered, Ned Stark was again sitting to the right of the king but the look in his eyes was different this time. What was it? hope, no it wasn't hope, Relief was it relief? no not that either. Whatever it was Jaime didn't get the time to figure it out as once again the king began to speak to him.

"Ah, Ser Jaime, it's good to see you're feeling better" The king said smiling at him.

Feeling better, was he a moron? Did he think he was sick? His father had been killed and this was the best this idiot could come up with as a greeting. Jaime noticed that even Stark was looking at him incredulously as Robert continued to speak.

"We have much to discuss, Casterly Rock for one and we shall need a new Warden of the West. It seems your time in my Kingsguard is at an end, Ser Jaime" Robert said and Jaime felt his breath catch in his throat at the thoughts of what that could mean.