Jaime was the first to see the inn as they turned a bend in the river. After a short argument, which she won with Cleos backing her up against Brien, the young knight turned the skiff towards the dock. Having tied the boat up, she clambered out after him, managing not to trip on the hem of her ragged dress, and looked around. A sign swung from a nearby post, a king upon his knees done in flaking paint. 

"We could not have found a better inn," Jaime laughed aloud. 

"Is this some special place?" Brien asked, suspicious. Whilst her cousin explained the story of Torrhen Stark, the king who knelt, Jaime's ears perked up at the sound of a horse's whinny. 

"Horses in the stable. One at least," And one is all I need to put this boy behind me. "Let's see who's home, shall we?" Without waiting for an answer, she sauntered up to the door, chains clanking, and shoved it open with her shoulder, only to find herself facing a loaded crossbow wielded by a stocky boy of fifteen. 

"Lion, fish, or wolf?" The threatening demand was ruined slightly as the lad's eyes flickered down to her chest. 

"We were hoping for capon," Jaime heard her companions behind her. "Have you even used that thing before?" She looked doubtfully down at the crossbow.

"Yes," He sniffed indignantly. "It'll put a bolt through any man's heart," Oh, it was my heart you were looking at? She had forgotten that this dress had a low neckline, given there was no one to ogle her when she was in the dungeons, and Brien would sooner glower at her and call her a monster.

"Mine too?" Jaime flashed a charming smile - inwardly laughing at herself, for this one truly was only Joffrey's age - and the boy gawped at her a moment, before glaring at Brien as he appeared at her shoulder. 

"I don't kill women," The boy glowered. "But I'd kill him,"

"Perhaps," She shrugged. "But before you can wind it again, my cousin here will spill your entrails on the floor,"

"Don't be scaring the lad, now," Cleos said.

"We mean no harm," Brien said. "And we have coin to pay for food," He dug out a silver piece, which the boy looked over suspiciously, and then glanced at Jaime's manacles. 

"Why's she in irons?"

"Killed some crossbowmen," She said, giving a feral smile. "Do you have ale?"

"Yes," The boy lowered the crossbow an inch. "Undo your swordbelts and let them fall, and might be we'll feed you," 

"Three, are you?" A sallow, pockmarked man stepped through the cellar door, holding a butcher's cleaver. "We got horsemeat enough for three. The horse was old and tough, but the meat's still fresh,"

"Is there bread?" Brien asked.

"Hardbread and stale oatcakes,"

"Now there's an honest innkeep," Jaime grinned. "They'll all serve you stale bread and stringy meat, but most don't own up to it so freely,"

"I'm no innkeep. I buried him out back, with his women,"

"Did you kill them?"

"Would I tell you if I did?" The man spat. "Likely it were wolves' work, or maybe lions, what's the difference? The wife and I found them dead. The way we see it, the place is ours now,"

"Where is this wife of yours?" Ser Cleos asked.

"And why would you be wanting to know that?" The man squinted at him suspiciously. "She's not here. No more'n you three will be, unless I like the taste of your silver," Brien tossed him the coin. 

"He's got more," The boy said.

"So he does. Boy, go down and find me some onions,"

The lad raised the crossbow to his shoulder, gave them one last sullen look that lingered on Jaime, who bared her teeth, and then vanished into the cellar. The man waved the cleaver at the tables. 

"Might as well sit,"

She sat and stretched out her long legs under the table. The man cooked the horse meat for them whilst they drank, ale for Jaime and Cleos, a cup of cider for Brien. The young boy kept his distance, perching on the cider barrel with his loaded crossbow across his knees. The cook drew a tankard of ale and sat with them. 

"What news from Riverrun?" He asked Cleos, taking him for their leader. For the life of her, Jaime couldn't imagine why. He's the oldest, perhaps. Or is that me? She frowned. Ser Cleos glanced at Brien before answering. 

The conversation soon moved onto their destination, King's Landing. The man pronounced them fools for even attempting the journey, before relenting and saying they should avoid the river at least. Jaime's eyes narrowed slightly the more he spoke, something about his manner seeming off to her, but she said nothing, for now. 

"We would need horses," Brien looked doubtful.

"There are horses here," She pointed out. "I heard one in the stable,"

"Aye, there are," Their host said. "Three of them, as it happens, but they're not for sale,"

"Of course not," Jaime had to laugh. "But you'll show them to us anyway,"

The stables had not been mucked out in a long while. Mounds of horse dung lay everywhere, but there were only the three horses to be seen; a lumbering brown plow horse, an ancient white gelding blind in one eye, and a knight's palfrey, dapple grey and spirited. 

"They're not for sale at any price," Their alleged owner announced. Jaime examined the saddlecloth, next to the palfrey's stall. It had originally been checkered pink and black, but now it was mostly brown. She did not recognise the original colours, but she recognised bloodstains easily enough.

"Well, her owner won't be coming to claim her anytime soon," She examined the palfrey's legs, counted the gelding's teeth, ignoring the looks she got. Her Uncle Gerion had taken her riding a lot as a girl, and he had a good eye for horses. "Give him a gold piece for the grey, if he'll include the saddle," She advised Brien. "A silver for the plow horse. He ought to pay us for taking the white off his hands,"

"Don't speak discourteously of your horse, my lady," The boy opened his purse. "I will pay you a dragon for each," The man blinked and reached for the gold, then hesitated and drew his hand back. 

"I don't know. I can't ride no golden dragon if I need to get away. Nor eat one if I'm hungry,"

"You can have our skiff as well," He said. "Sail up the river or down, as you like,"

"Let me have a taste o' that gold," The man took one of the coins and bit it. "Hm. Real enough, I'd say. Three dragons and the skiff?"

"He's robbing you blind, boy," Jaime said amiably.

"I'll want provisions too," Brien ignored her. "Whatever you have that you can spare,"

"There's more oatcakes," The man jingled the coins in his fist, smiling. "Aye, and smoked salt fish, but that will cost you silver. My beds will be costing as well. You'll be wanting to stay the night,"

"No," Brien said at once.

"Ser, you don't want to go riding at night through strange country on horses you don't know," The man frowned. "You're like to blunder into some bog or break your horse's leg,"

"The moon will be bright tonight," Brien said. "We'll have no trouble finding our way," Their host considered that. 

"If you don't have the silver, might be some coppers would buy you them beds, and a coverlet or two to keep you warm. It's not like I'm turning travelers away, if you get my meaning,"

"That sounds more than fair," Ser Cleos was plainly tempted. "A proper bed would do us all good, ser. We'd make better time on the morrow once refreshed," He looked to Jaime for support.

"No, coz, the lad is right. We have promises to keep, and long leagues before us. We ought ride on,"

"But," Cleos protested. "You said yourself - "

"Then," When I thought the inn deserted. "Now I have a full belly, and a moonlight ride will be just the thing," She smiled at the boy. "But unless you happen to find a side saddle lying around, and a horse trained to bear it, I'll need a pair of breeches. It's rather uncomfortable to sit astride in a dress," She had tried before, of course, and rubbed the inside of her legs raw. Riding through a war zone with her skirts around her thighs also seemed too much like asking for trouble. 

Brien frowned at her skirts. Their host rubbed his jaw. 

"Should be some old clothes left upstairs, there's likely something small enough,"

"Show me," Brien said.

"Yes," Jaime said. "And the sooner the better. There's far too much horse shit about here for my taste. I would hate for my skirts to trail in it," She gave the boy a look, wondering if he was bright enough to take her meaning.

She hoped Brien might leave her alone to search for a pair of roughly-fitting breeches so she could escape out of a back window, but he was still suspicious. He even stayed as she pulled on the garments she found - a pair of boy's breeches, rather small but the least mouldy ones there - under her skirts. With her hands bound as they were, she could not replace the filthy gown for a tunic or jerkin.

When Jaime suggested that he find her a pair of smallclothes to watch her change into as well, he ignored her, though he did agree to cut away the ragged remains of her skirts to her knees with his dagger. It looked absurd, but she would take that over being restricted by a long dress.

"Six miles downriver you'll see a burned village," Their host said as he was helping them saddle the horses. This time he directed his counsel at Brien. "The road splits there. If you turn south, you'll come on Ser Warren's stone towerhouse. It's a place best shunned. You'd do better to follow the track through the woods, south by east,"

"We shall," He answered. "You have my thanks,"

More to the point, he has your gold. Jaime kept the thought to herself. She was tired of being disregarded by this huge ugly man.

Brien took the plow horse for himself and assigned the palfrey to Ser Cleos. As threatened, Jaime was given the one-eyed gelding, which put an end to any thoughts she might have had of giving her horse a kick and leaving the lad in her dust.

Ser Cleos was all complaints as they rode out, still mourning his lost featherbed. They rode east, along the bank of the moonlit river. Jaime's mount plodded along placidly, though the poor old thing had a tendency to want to drift off to the side of his good eye. 

It felt good to be mounted once more, and she idly twisted her fingers in the gelding's mane, patting its neck. She had not been on a horse since Lady Catelyn's men had killed her palfrey under her in the Whispering Wood. That horse had been a gift from Stannis... But her husband was dead too, and she wouldn't have to hear him grind his teeth over the matter. 

When they reached the burned village, a choice of equally unpromising farmer's tracks confronted them. One wandered southeast, while the other arrowed due south. Brien considered them briefly, and then swung his horse onto the southern road. Jaime was pleasantly surprised; it was the same choice she would have made.

"But this is the road the innkeep warned us against," Ser Cleos objected.

"He was no innkeep." Brien said. "The man took too great an interest in our choice of route, and those woods... such places are notorious haunts of outlaws. He may have been urging us into a trap,"

"Clever boy," Jaime smiled at her cousin. "Our host has friends down that road, I would venture. The ones whose mounts gave that stable such a memorable aroma,"

"He may have been lying about the river as well, to put us on these horses," The boy said. "But I could not take the risk. There will be soldiers at the ruby ford and the crossroads,"

Well, he may be ugly but he's not entirely stupid. Jaime gave him a smile, which he gave a slightly awkward nod at.

Half the night passed before the boy allowed that it might be safe to stop. By then all three of them were exhausted, drooping in their saddles. The night was strangely peaceful. The war has not touched this place, Jaime thought. She was glad to be here, glad to be alive, glad to be on her way back to her children, even back to Cersen, despite being angry at him still. I'll scarce be able to recognise the little twins, they grow so fast at that age. Would they even recognise her, thin and shorn as she was? Arthur will likely have grown another head taller than me, and Helia will nearly be a woman. 

"I'll take the first watch," Brien told Ser Cleos, and the knight was soon snoring softly.

Jaime didn't sleep. She sat leaning against an oak tree and wondered what Cersen and Tyrion were doing just now. Wondered about Orryn, Helia, all her children. Now she was out of Riverrun, the fears she had blocked out were creeping in again. Locked away, she could do nothing to help her children, and didn't want to drive herself mad thinking of everything that was happening whilst she rotted away in chains. Now, though, since that first day on the river, she couldn't seem to think of anything else, all eight of them constantly at the back of her mind. 

Since she had left, Joffrey had become king, Orryn a lord. With her father in the city, it was only a matter of time before her daughters were betrothed. Helia might even wed, given she'd be four-and-ten by now. The idea of her daughter marrying without her mother there was the kind of unpleasant thought Jaime had been trying to avoid during her captivity. 

"Do you have any siblings, ser?" She asked, because surely he'd have no children of his own.

"No," Brien squinted at her suspiciously. "I was my father's only child,"

"Heir to Tarth, then," Jaime said, tired of his manner. "Big and strong, but dull and pig-ugly. How the ladies must fall at your feet," She chuckled at his expression. "Have you ever even had a woman?" Wordless, he turned away from her, his knuckles tight on his sword hilt, and that was all the answer she needed. He reminded her of Stannis, in some queer way. Perhaps it was that thought that made her say, "I did not intend to give offence, Brien. Forgive me,"

"Your crimes are past forgiving, Kingslayer," Why do I even try?

"That name again," Jaime twisted idly at her chains. "Why do I enrage you so? I've never done you harm that I know of,"

"You've harmed others. Those who trusted you. The unsuspecting, the innocent - "

"The king?" It always came back to Aerys. "Don't presume to judge what you do not understand, boy,"

"My name is - "

"Brien, yes. Has anyone ever told you that you're as tedious as you are ugly?"

"You will not provoke me to anger, Kingslayer,"

"Oh, I might, if I cared enough to try," If she was good at anything, it was that.

"Why did you do it?" He glowered at her. "You were one of his wife's ladies, Elia Martell's close friend. You knew her, knew her children. Aerys took you in as his ward, you earned his trust, then stabbed him in the back whilst your father's men slaughtered the prince and princesses. Why?"

Why? What could she say that he might possibly understand? 

"I was a girl. Fifteen, at the start. To be one of the queen's ladies was a great honour," Though not so much for Jaime, who wanted to be back in the west with her brother. And Elia was my friend. I played with her children, little Rhaenys and baby Aegon. I killed their grandfather, though they'd thank me if they'd stayed alive long enough to see it.

"That is no answer," He said scornfully. You would not like the truth.

"You are not old enough to have known Aerys Targaryen," Nor womanly enough to know what it's like being completely helpless, useless. He would not hear it. 

"Aerys was mad and cruel, no one has ever denied that. He was still king, crowned and anointed. He trusted you, honoured you as his ward, and you stabbed him in the back," I slit his throat with a stolen sword. But she had long since stopped trying to correct people on that. They believed what they wanted to believe, and a knife in the back fit their idea of events so much better.

"He never trusted me. Underestimating me was his folly," Jaime would've tossed her hair, had she had enough left. "And honoured me?" She laughed. "I was a hostage in all but name, boy,"

"That doesn't make what you did right," He loomed above her, six feet eight inches of freckled, frowning disapproval.

"What you did as well. We're both kingslayers here, if what I've heard is true,"

"I never harmed Renly. I'll kill the man who says I did,"

"Best start with Cleos, then. And you'll have a deal of killing to do after that, the way he tells the tale,"

"Lies. Lady Catelyn was there when His Grace was murdered, she saw. There was a shadow. The candles guttered and the air grew cold, and there was blood - "

"Oh, very good," Jaime laughed. "Your wits are quicker than mine, ser, I confess it. When they found me standing over my dead king, I never thought to say, 'No, no, it wasn't me, it was a shadow, a terrible cold shadow.' " She laughed again. "Tell me true, one kingslayer to another—did the Starks pay you to slit his throat, or was it my son Joffrey? Or had Renly spurned your advances, was that the way of it?" Her smile sharpened. "You're not as pretty as dear Loras Tyrell, I fear,"

For a moment Jaime thought Brien might strike her. A step closer, and I'll snatch that dagger from his sheath. She gathered a leg under her, ready to spring, but the boy did not move. 

"It is a rare and precious gift to be a knight," He said. "And even more so a knight guarding the king. I would not scorn and soil my cloak that way,"

"Good for you," Jaime smiled. "But I'm no knight. I have little faith in them, personally. I have no cloak to scorn, no code of honour to adhere to, aside from keeping my legs shut until my wedding night," She leant back against the tree, eyes not leaving his. "Yet I killed a king nonetheless. Are knights the only ones who can pick up a sword and kill men who deserve to die? Does that make you any better than me? I'm so not sure it does,"

The look Brien gave her then was full of loathing. He would gladly hack me to pieces, but for his precious vow. The boy stalked off without saying a word, and she was glad for it. Jaime curled up beneath her cloak.

When she closed her eyes, Aerys Targaryen appeared before her, pacing alone in his throne room, picking at his scabbed and bleeding hands. His purple eyes stared at her, saw the blood on her stolen sword, and she saw his mouth open in a scream. In her dream, Jaime smiled. 

*

Once again this was tricky as there was so much text I had to cut down, as there wasn't much difference with a female Jaime. Do you feel like Jaime in these ASOS chapters is consistent with the Jaime I wrote in the Before chapters (2 and 3)? 

All text from A Storm of Swords belongs to GRRM. If you feel like I'm taking too much from the original or not changing things enough, please let me know.

I hope you enjoyed this chapter, thanks for reading!