Jaime liked Rosennis Stark. It was unexpected, he would admit, having befriended few women outside his family before. Her oddly-proportioned face, reserved manner and borderline hostile expression did little to endear her to strangers, but when Jaime had tried to get under her skin, for his own amusement, she had proven that she had a sharp tongue to rival his own. Much to his delight. Whether intentional or not, the Stark girl was entertaining to watch. She seemed entirely unimpressed by anything and everything she came across, especially him, which in itself was a novelty.

The road to King's Landing would have been dreadfully dull without anyone interesting to talk to. He had been in a foul mood since leaving Harrenhal, feeling like as big a fool as his father claimed he was when Aerys had sent him away from the tourney. Surely the King had not appointed him to the Kingsguard just to spite Lord Tywin? Jaime refused to believe that, and chose to take Aerys' command as a test, to see if he could put his childish desires of winning the tourney aside to serve his king.

One evening as they made camp, Jaime looked up at the sound of a commotion on the other side of the fire. One of the more foolish squires was attempting to mount Lady Stark's horse; no doubt he believed her occupied elsewhere. The horse appeared little more than a sturdy northern beast at a first glance, however when Jaime had taken the chance to look it over properly, he'd seen plenty of evidence of fine breeding. The animal was powerful, more so than any ladies horse had the need to be. More spirited too. The horse instantly took off with the boy with a steely stubbornness that matched its owner, refusing to slow down despite the fact the boy was not a bad rider. Ordinarily this would have been amusing, but they had ridden past quite a steep gully, and this incident had the potential to send both horse and boy to a grisly end.

Rosennis Stark reacted quicker than anyone else. She did not hesitate before swinging herself onto Jaime's own horse - a large courser wearing no saddle - and galloped up beside the idiot squire, leaping over fallen trees and dodging through the live ones, grabbing the reins of her mare. Only then did the horse come to a halt, rather close to the rocky drop of the gully for comfort. Jaime was impressed despite himself, at both her skill at riding without a saddle as well as her nerve.

The young lady returned, leading her own horse whilst riding Jaime's, face set in cold fury. The boy walked beside her, looking like he would rather be anywhere else. It was only when she dismounted that she said a word.

"Do all boys south of the Neck have mince for brains? I cannot decide what was more stupid - stealing my horse in the first place, or being unable to ride said horse without squealing like a stuck pig and almost breaking your neck. Had you killed my horse, I'd have dragged you out of that hole to throw you back in again. If you try anything like this again, I won't be rushing to save you - I'll be shooting after you with a bloody crossbow,"

Rosennis did not raise her voice, but her barbed tongue berated the squire harshly enough for him to be close to tears, despite the fact he was only a couple of years younger than she was. Or perhaps he was just mortified at having to be rescued by a girl. The other squires found this hilarious of course, teasing him mercilessly, and even the older men had taken to mocking the boy.

"Lady Stark's given that boy the tongue-lashing his mother should've done long ago," One soldier chuckled.

"He needs to toughen up fast," Another said, scornful. "He's near crying at the words of a skinny young girl. How's he to last in battle?"

"I don't know about you, but I'd take an armed soldier over an angry woman any day," One man said, which earned a few laughs.

"That woman in particular," The first glanced over to where Rosennis was settling the horse for the night, alone aside from her guards. "I heard they make Northern women with ice in their veins,"

"The Starks are all half-wildling, besides,"

Jaime went to join her, sitting down beside her.

"That livened up the journey considerably, Lady Stark,"

"Which part?" She asked. "The chase on horseback, or me making a squire cry?"

"Both. I thought young ladies were taught embroidery and singing, not how to ride like that," He remembered how Cersei had been furious when they had been separated as children, Jaime given a sword whilst she was given a needle.

"Southron ladies and their septas, perhaps," She said with no small amount of distaste, then smiled sardonically. "Have I impressed you, Lannister?"

"Shoot an arrow off the horse's back like a Dothraki and maybe then I'll be impressed," He said, though that was a lie. Seeing her jump up onto his large warhorse from the ground and gallop without a saddle over uneven ground to catch up with another mount was something he'd have admired a knight for doing, never mind a lady in skirts.

Despite amusing moments like that, however, Jaime remained miserable at the fact in joining the Kingsguard, Cersei's idea for them to stay together, he had separated them by an entire kingdom. Losing Casterly Rock, he did not really care about, and his father was always disappointed in him no matter what he did, so it might as well be something big like this. But he had lost his sister, and Cersei was irreplaceable.

Judging from the bitter expression that was often on her face, Rosennis Stark wanted to be headed to King's Landing just as much as he did.

When they made it to the city, things weren't much better. He didn't see as much of the Stark girl. He spent his days guarding the queen and young Prince Viserys - a dull task, no matter how pleasant Rhaella was to him - and she spent her days doing... whatever girls did. He occasionally saw her with the queen and her ladies, practicing embroidery and the like, though from her cold manner, it was clear that she held Rhaella partly to blame by association for the whole mess with her sister.

But then a week or so later, Aerys returned from Harrenhal, and Jaime's boredom turned into something else entirely.

The first burning - a thief and serial rapist - was bad. Bile rose in Jaime's throat at the smell, and he struggled not to flinch at the inhuman screams of the burning man on the pyre. Even if he knew the man deserved to die, seeing his blackening body twisting and writhing as the flames consumed him was far worse than the quick, clean fall of a headsman's axe. Beheading would have been justice; this was gratuitous.

The second burning was nothing short of horrific. The only thing keeping his eyes forward was the harsh stare of Ser Gerold opposite him, daring him to look away. Jaime left the hall in a rather dazed state, trying not to think about what he had just witnessed. They had said the King was mad, but gods, it was only a little boy who stole a cake. He was the same age as Tyrion, and everyone had just stood at watched, all those people, all those knights. The boy had pleaded with anyone he could as he was dragged towards the pyre, imploring the brave knights of the Kingsguard to come and save him. No one did a fucking thing, himself included. He hadn't had a good night's sleep since.

Branded into his memories of that day, along with the dancing glow of the flames and the high pitched screams, was the image of two glazed grey eyes from across the hall. Rosennis Stark had been there, the only one present who wasn't a guard or gaoler, certainly the only woman there. The king seemed to delight in making the girl uncomfortable, hence why she too had to witness such horrific acts. But Stark hadn't taken her eyes off the flames, nor the dying child. Her face was blank, her mouth set in a line, and her expression didn't change at all. Jaime resented this at first; was she so cold that she didn't care? Then he realised that of course that wasn't true, but was still resentful as he doubted he was doing nearly as thorough a job at keeping his face straight.

"Did you enjoy that, Lady Stark?" Aerys called to her, gleeful from on top of the Iron Throne. He had cut himself on one of the barbs again, blood dripping down his sleeve, though the King barely seemed to notice.

He saw her wrestle with herself, then, forcing the words, "Yes, your Grace," out of her mouth. At least she had the intelligence not to disagree with him to his face, though that seemed to crack her impeccable mask. Suddenly she looked much younger, like she was fighting to keep her face in check.

Aerys cackled at that. "Tell me, Lady Stark, were you jealous when my son picked your sister over you?"

"No, your Grace,"

"Of course you were," The King continued. "And there's no question why. Look at you! I believe I saw your face in a book of folk tales - a witch, or a banshee, or perhaps the hero's horse? That's why I wanted you here, of course, instead of your whore sister - no temptation for my treacherous son Rhaegar,"

To talk to the daughter of a great house so disgustingly would have been a grave insult even from a king, and no doubt if Rickard Stark overheard then he would be demanding recompense. Rosennis did not reply to that, wisely, though her mask was back up, no trace of emotion on her face.

For whatever reason, that made Jaime seek her out after the audience was over, as the dozen or so other witnesses left in a cowed silence, ashamed at themselves, buried in duty or scared for their own lives.

"You had to say yes, when he asked about the burning," He said, for once not trying to sound sarcastic or mocking with her, falling in stride as they walked down the corridor. "He might've put you on the embers of that pyre if you'd said no,"

"I know that," She snapped, but he recognised that for what it was; embarrassment that he had caught her weakness, combined with horror left over from seeing a child burn to death. "Sorry, I - "

"I know," He cut her off, because he really did, then grinned. "Also, and I will say it only once for fear of being far too nice - you do not look anything like a horse,"

That earned a small laugh. "A witch or banshee is about right, though?"

"Precisely,"

"Thanks, Lannister,"

"You're most welcome," A pause, as they walked together. "I thought there must have been a mistake," Jaime blurted out. "When they brought the boy in. I thought one of the Kingsguard would say something, that they - we - couldn't possibly kill a child like that. But no one said anything, and - " He broke off, realising how pathetic he sounded.

"The Kingsguard obeys the king," Rosennis said slowly. "I suppose they are only as honourable as whoever sits the throne," A humourless smile. "Which goes against the stories, quite considerably,"

"So much for vowing to defend the weak," He muttered. "If that happens again, I can't just - stand there, watching,"

"You'll get yourself killed too if you do anything else," She said, harsh but honest.

"He wouldn't kill a Lannister," Jaime said. "Anyone can see that would start a war,"

"Any sane person," Rosennis glanced at him. "You saw him, in there. Would you put anything past him?"

That was a good point. "How did you do it? Keep such a straight face, through most of that?"

"I go away inside," She said. "Convince myself I'm somewhere else,"

His own haunted eyes reflected in her own as they stopped at an intersection, turning to each other. She was to go one way to Maegor's Holdfast, him the other way to the White Sword Tower. After what they had just seen, it seemed unthinkable to be alone with his own thoughts, to carry on with life like they hadn't seen a child die screaming. Both were too proud to ask for company, however; for his part, Jaime felt like he had been far too open with the Stark girl, but would have torn his own hair out if he hadn't voiced his thoughts.

"I'll see you, I suppose, Lady Rosennis" Jaime broke the silence, turning to leave. "Hopefully not at another burning, though I wouldn't count on it,"

A bony hand grabbed his elbow before he could. "Ross," She corrected. "Call me Ross,"

"Very well," He put on some approximation of his best charming smile. "See you next time some poor sod has to die, Ross,"

That earned a strangled laugh. "Goodbye, Jaime," She turned on her heel and left in the other direction, in a swirl of dark skirts and clicking boots on stone.

Days later, and she hadn't spoken to him since. But there had been another burning that morning when Jaime was on duty, and it had been awful. An old man, who begged for his life and insisted he was nothing but a loyal citizen, innocent of whatever crime they'd pinned on him. He most likely was. Not that innocence meant a fucking thing in this place.

Ross was there too, as ever, but had vanished as everyone left. Jaime stood on duty two more hours afterwards guarding Princess Elia and her daughter. It was surreal, going from that awful scene to watching little Princess Rhaenys giggling as she played with dolls in silk dresses and painted toy dragons. If anyone tried to attack the royals under his watch, he wouldn't be much use, being in too much of a shocked daze to react quickly to anything. Elia eyed him with concern, but seemed to understand after asking where he had come from, giving him a regretful smile and kindly pat on the arm that made him feel rather pathetic.

Now he was off duty, he still couldn't unsee the way that man's skin melted perversely, the way he screamed that he had a young granddaughter to look after, that he was all she had, that she'd die on her own.

Feeling like he'd go mad just sat in his room in the White Sword Tower - and Ser Gerold had forbidden him from training even more excessively than he currently was, lest he overtire or injure himself - Jaime found himself wandering aimlessly around the castle. All these lords and ladies, so perfectly mannered, so beautifully dressed, the picture of civilisation. All these knights, shining examples of chivalry and honour.

It was ironic, really, the real world. He didn't like to think of himself as naive, but any illusions he may have had about knightly honour were quickly being corrected.

Jaime was passing the stables when he heard a commotion, the unmistakable sounds of a horse out of control. Crashing, cursing, shod hooves clacking on cobbles. He jogged the rest of the distance there, more for something to do than any desire to help. However, when he rounded the corner he was met with a surprising sight.

The stable hands were all standing in the yard, surrounding a huge black destrier. The animal was wild, snorting and dancing around. A snapped rope hung uselessly from its halter from where it had broken free as it spun and reared defensively, threatening to kick anyone who went near it. The grooms had all backed off, giving it space, yet a thin figure was approaching it, Ross Stark.

Not seeming at all scared by the huge animal, she grabbed its halter on both sides, forcing its head in front of her own and holding on, planting her feet into the ground even as it tried to rear again, her bony wrists looking ready to snap. She wasn't gentle, but wasn't rough either, and her lips muttered fast words too quiet for Jaime to hear, breathing into the horse's large, flaring nostrils. And after a tense few moments, the animal began to calm. She lead it over to the wall, and tied it up very loosely with a fresh rope before taking the bridle off a nearby boy and, after loosening every strap as far as it would go, eased the bit into its mouth. The horse snorted and stamped a little, but the girl remained calm, holding its face steady even as she had to stand on tiptoes to pull the headband over its ears, murmuring to it all the while.

He had seen her tack her horse before while on the road, of course - remarkable only because most highborn women and no small amount of men couldn't tell one end of a horse's tack from the other - but not after taming a half-wild animal that weighed over half a ton.

Then she turned, catching sight of him.

"Ser Jaime," She nodded a greeting.

Everyone in the yard suddenly looked at him, startled at his appearance. He ignored them, as the head groom barked at them all to get back to work. Jaime stepped closer to the stallion and noticing the girl wore a riding habit.

"Are you going to ride that monster, my lady?" It shouldn't surprise him, given her display in the woods on the road from Harrenhal, yet somehow did.

She smiled. "As no one else is up to it, then yes,"

He had walked into that one. "Is it even broken in?"

"Not very well," Ross said, making a nearby groom snort with laughter, whilst another scoffed as though 'not very well' was an understatement. A stable boy approaching with the horse's huge saddle caught her attention and she rounded on him. "Remember what I told you. Don't fling it onto his back unless you want him to break loose again, but don't be too nervous around him either. They pick up on it,"

The poor boy looked terrified, but nodded. "Yes, Milady,"

"Is this not a job you only trust yourself to do?" Jaime couldn't help but add, as the boy ever-so-carefully placed the saddle on the horse's back.

"I cannot lift the saddle that high. It is... heavy," Her glare dared him to say anything to that.

He laughed, watching her reach to do up the girth. "I suppose those skinny arms of yours would snap, Stark,"

"Unlike yourself, of course," She said, and he didn't catch that she was mocking him until she continued. "Jaime Lannister, brave Knight of the Kingsguard, strong enough to saddle a large horse. That's something to write in the White Book, being able to lift more than a girl of fifteen. Well done, Ser,"

Jaime's mouth was slightly open in outrage and amusement both, as the grooms turned away to hide their smirks. "For once, I haven't got anything to say - my family would be shocked. I pity whichever man you are betrothed to, my lady,"

"Lord Bolton more than likely has a cellar full of human skins, so I wouldn't pity him too much," She said, without a hint of joking.

He hadn't known she was betrothed at all. While he was contemplating that, Ross put her foot in the stirrup and pulled herself up easily from the ground to sit astride the horse's back. The great beast wheeled around and tossed his head, giving a few rears before she collected the horse with a well-practised hand. She wasn't short by any means, but looked like a child sat on that giant beast.

"Where do you ride today?" Jaime asked her.

"Around the keep," She said, frowning slightly. She probably wasn't allowed out. "The horse needs exercising, and my head needs clearing,"

For one foolish moment, he was tempted to saddle his own horse and join her. If he had, it certainly would not be meant as an attempt at courtship, like many would interpret it; she was betrothed, and he was a Kingsguard, not to mention it was laughable to compare Rosennis Stark to Cersei. It was just... her company helped stave off the darker thoughts rattling around his head.

"You are on the perfect horse for that," He said instead. "When you fall and crack your skull on a rock, your head will be nice and empty,"

Ross smiled. "As if I'd ever fall," Was all she said, before releasing her hold on the reins - all it took for the horse to leap into a canter - and leaving through the gate in a clatter of hooves the size of dinner plates.

*

Edited August 2024. Again, I found myself cringing at my own writing from years ago, hence the edited form needed to be posted as soon as possible haha. It will be interesting to see if any existing readers prefer this version (I bloody hope so) to before.