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ichorkurt · 3 months ago

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loved this !!! jaime lannister my beloved fr </3 we rlly do need more fics for him, i'm STARVING !

WAR HAS CHANGED.

jaime lannister x f!reader

word count. 2.2k

notes. slowburn, tension, angst, pining, non-canon lore drop, sibling duo cersei/jaime. this is my first fic, so go easy! hopefully this makes up for the lack of jaime fics, he’s so underrated.

gif by blackthornluce

“A visitor for the Lady.”

He knew he shouldn’t be here, at the seat of House Ambrose. The stone walls of the common hall appeared to have been recently cemented, remaining intact with only a few deep, noticeable cracks. Debris was scattered over the floors, and dust seemed to have accumulated over the regal chairs and tables.

Yet, Jaime was amazed at how quickly House Ambrose had recovered. Sure, the room now appeared dull and worn, far from what it once used to look like. But he knew this was still a fragile period; in the aftermath of the war, there were far more grave matters to attend to than scrutinizing the kempt of the fortress.

Jaime stood for a good minute or two. His weight shifted to his right, a hand on the hip as he tapped the floor with his left sole. His patience was quickly growing thin.

A herald had previously announced his arrival, to which two young knights took him into the empty hall and simply ordered him to wait there as they fetched the Lady.

They call themselves knights? Leaving a room unguarded with a foreign visitor? She can’t seriously entrust her life to these guards. She’s not even safe in her own walls.

Jaime glanced around the room. There was no one. He had made up his mind. He could not wait any longer. He took a few steps backward, slowly at first, before dashing out of the entrance. He circled to the back of the fortress, making quick work with his hurried footsteps.

He still remembers the exact spot of your past rendezvous. When he had convinced you to sneak out of your bedchamber on numerous occasions, despite your initial dismay. When you both watched the late-night festivities and scampered around unexplored parts of the village. That, however, was no longer a reality. You were children then. You certainly weren’t now.

The walls seemed to have aged too, now hosting a set of thick, long vines that spread across. The tower stood a few meters high, but it was nothing he couldn’t manage. With considerable strength, he tugged on the overgrown vines, placing one foot ahead of the other as he climbed the wall. The hour was still early, and sunlight rays seeped through the open balcony.

Jaime maneuvered over the balcony railings and landed on the floor with ease. He treaded lightly until he was able to peer into the interior of the room. There you sat, at the corner of your bedchamber, your back facing towards him. He, however, could see your expression through the reflection of a mirror positioned above the mahogany table. You appeared to be focused; your eyes trained on the parchment, a quill at hand complementing your concentration as you wrote intently.

Amusing, he thought. You looked so at peace. He decides to approach closer, and just as he is about to give a tap on your shoulder, you catch wind of the sound of his footsteps, and your eyes meet his own in the mirror.

Without care for another thought, you swing behind to stand, quickly seizing his outstretched arm, and pulling him towards you. This gave you an opening as you kicked hard at his groin with your knee. He groaned. Gods, your hits were always unforgiving.

You grasped onto the fabric of his tunic and slammed his body forcefully against the wall. Swiftly, you pulled out a dagger from the sheath that was latched onto your ankle, pressing it threateningly over the artery of his neck. Strangely, the only reaction you elicited from him was a chuckle.

“Miss me?”

That arrogant tone was all too familiar. That rich, velvety voice was hard not to notice. You finally caught up with your reflexes, taking a long, hard look at your perpetrator. It had been three years since you last saw him. His features had chiseled, his golden-haired locks had outgrown, and he bore a stubble. You’d dare say that at this moment, you found him more attractive than ever.

But your eyes widened in surprise and realization, and you backed away immediately, setting the dagger on the table.

“What in the seven hells are you doing here?” You hissed at Jaime in hushed tones. Surely the commotion had already alerted some nearby maids and guards. “Are you a fool? You could have been mistaken for murder!”

You weren’t wrong, though. The war had been long and exhaustive, costing both sides their men and resources, thus a parley was only held months ago. The relationship between House Lannister and House Ambrose remained fragile. Your father, Lord Ambrose, was no longer tolerant towards the Lannisters. He would instantly have Jaime’s head on a spike if he found out he was let near you.

“I highly doubt it, since your guards had so kindly allowed me in,” Jaime scoffed, folding his arms as he casually leaned back against the wall. “You could find yourself in Flea Bottom and still feel much safer there.”

You glared at him. Surely, he had not come all this way to mock your House.

“The feast,” he continued, ignoring your hard stare, instead taunting you with his signature smirk. “We’ve been through years to know it is tradition. Yet, you seemed to have forgotten to invite Her Grace. Might I help you recall, your Queen?”

This time, it was your turn to scoff. “So this is what it’s all about? I never took you Lannisters to be so petty over such trivial matters.”

“You and I both know this is not a trivial matter,” Jaime leaned away from the wall, moving closer to you, suddenly replying with all seriousness. “At least not for Cersei.”

The annual feast was held in celebration of House Ambrose; the vital port for agriculture. It was a prestigious event for Houses across the Seven Kingdoms to gather and dine. An invitation was honorable.

“What more could your sister possibly want?” You raised your voice, clearly growing annoyed. “Our harvests are depleting faster as we speak. There’ll hardly be enough food left to sustain the Realm for another two years. We have given her a more than generous amount, as coerced!”

“As promised.”

“At the expense of everyone!” you snapped. “Because of her selfishness, half of our harvests are gone! And yet Father insists on continuing the feast, but we—” You paused sharply, needing to catch your breath. You shut your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose.

Jaime could see the distress growing on your face. The war has changed you. It had thrown you into more responsibilities than you could handle at such an age, taking you to the faster route of a Lord’s burden. Before he could stop himself, he reached to touch your forearms, but you pulled away quickly, exasperated.

“You expect us to live out our days like this? You expect me to believe that Cersei had reasoned out of the kindness of her own heart? That this was the best decision?”

“It is,” Jaime spoke softly but firmly. His eyes fixated on you with solemnity.

“She was going to burn this place to the ground,” he added after a moment of considerable silence. “I convinced her otherwise. Our men never had a penchant for agriculture. We wouldn’t have been able to cultivate these lands. We wouldn’t have been able to do what your people have done for Westeros.”

You didn’t fail to notice Jaime’s hint of concern and admiration for your people. You studied him, but you were only met with sincerity expressed in his blue eyes.

“Thank you,” you whispered, suddenly finding it hard to form more words. Jaime gave a gentle nod.

There was a pause before you remembered why he had come here. “But this matter falls entirely in the hands of my father. You know his sentiments. He won’t be willing to grant any Lannisters an audience.”

“Which is why I’m asking you to speak on my behalf and convince him.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, growing irritated at Jaime again. “And for what? To hear myself vouch for your sister? To pardon her actions?”

You’ve seen Jaime; that silver tongue of his. He was persuasive in settling disputes, and charming in… other areas. So why couldn’t he just do this himself? You couldn’t afford to compromise the relationship with your father. It was already strained as it was. You had to keep to his perspectives.

The thought of that suddenly frustrated you. You turned your heels, not wanting to pursue the headache of the conversation any longer. Just then, Jaime’s hand caught your wrist, pulling you unabashedly into his personal space.

“Cersei will perceive even the slightest of acts to be disloyalty. I know her, she’ll use any reason against your House to tear this place apart,” you noticed a waver in Jaime’s voice.

You knew Cersei never liked you, even when you were children. Perhaps, she was skeptical about how you and her twin brother had appeared to be so close. You had only seen her grow more unbecoming since the start of her reign, three years ago. Her temper and relentlessness. The war was, to put it plainly, awful. You couldn’t put yourself or your people through that again.

“A little diplomacy won’t hurt,” Jaime added softly. “It would work in favour for both of our families. For us.”

You suddenly became aware of how close you were, almost feeling the warmth radiating off him as if it was inviting you into an embrace. You quickly shake the idea out of your thoughts. Jaime appeared to have realized the proximity between the two of you as well, clearing his throat as he let go of your wrist.

“I’ll… I’ll speak to my father,” you resigned. “But you must know, he is stubborn.”

“Tell me about it,” Jaime replied, his shoulders loosening as a small smile tugged at his lips. You raised an eyebrow at his statement. “You know, I once sought your father’s blessing for your hand, but he refused. I received quite the reprimand.”

Wait, what?

“You… you did this when?”

“It was years ago. Before… all this happened,” He clicked his tongue. “Well, marriage is out of the equation now. I’ve been newly appointed as Lord Commander of the Kingsguard.”

Oh.

“I’m… pleased to hear that,” you replied, although rather unconvincingly. You felt the urge to hide your disappointment. “Just don’t start laying siege to our lands, or I’ll kill you myself.”

Jaime chuckled at your tongue-in-cheek remark, unexpectedly sending shivers down your spine. It was nice to hear his laughter after all these years. “I always knew you had a softness for me,” he quipped back, that smug grin growing wider than ever. You fought hard not to roll your eyes, and couldn’t help but reciprocate with a bashful smile.

He seemed to be returning to his usual, arrogant self, because he suddenly reached out, gently tucking a loose strand to the back of your ear. “I’ve missed you,” he murmured, a sudden wave of tenderness washing over the both of you.

“I…” You found yourself at a loss for words, a sudden ache tugging at your heart. You quickly cast your gaze downwards to the floor, feeling a wave of heat rushing to your cheeks.

He shouldn’t say that. Not when he’s—

Two fingertips are suddenly hooked under your chin, lifting your head, forcing you to meet his eyes.

It had been three years since Jaime last saw you. He failed to see the heightening tensions between your families. He only grew frustrated when he was barred from your lands. He longed for your presence. It was ironic; only a two days’ travel, yet the proximity between your Houses never really spoke of anything amicable. Or so he thought.

Fuck it, just a bit of self-indulgence. He chose to lock himself in this moment, the oath he had taken as a Kingsguard immediately thrown to the back of his mind. His eyes flickered down to your lips, and you could sense him leaning in slowly. He refocused his gaze on you, eyes never leaving yours as a form of reassurance. You wanted this too, right? His nose gently brushed against yours, settling into the feeling of his soft lips slotting over yours and—

“My Lady! Ser Jaime—”

The large double doors of your bedchamber creaked open forcefully, sending a flash of panic as you pushed yourself away from Jaime in an instant. The guard rushed to your side, but noticed the stiffness of your bodies and your stunned expressions. He glanced back and forth between the two of you, though not daring to say anything.

It wasn’t until a moment later the guard spoke again, breaking the awkward silence. “Shall I inform Lord—”

“No! No, it’s alright. I… I’ll inform him myself,” you blurted out, before adjusting your tone. “See that the doors are open as you leave.”

The guard bowed courteously. He took one last look at the two of you, confusion still evident on his face, but he left without a second thought.

Once you ensured he was gone, you turned back to Jaime. His expression had turned into a scowl, glaring at the openness of the hallway. The thought of him getting so worked up over this moment; you secretly found it amusing.

You gently reached to smoothened the fabric of his tunic, redirecting his eyes as they immediately softened at the sight of you. “You’d best take your leave now. I’ll see you in two days,” you lightly patted his cheek, before you walked out of the doors.

notes. don’t know if anyone wants a part two, but i already have some ideas! plenty of room for more exposition, stolen glances, flirting and jealousy 😅

#f;got #m;gotjaime #gen;angst #au;childhoodfriends

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