A/ N: What happened when Jaime leaves for King's Landing and before the war against Cersei. Bäahal is in her bath and inevitably, her thoughts come back to haunt her a little bit. This is taking place right before the war against Cersei.
Xxx
Farewells were never her strong suit, and if given the opportunity, Bäahal would avoid them. Alone in her bath, her silver locks stuck to her face, back and shoulders, Bäahal was thinking of the previous days. The silver queen requested her presence by her side when the golden lion and Lady Kyra would leave Winterfell for the Red Keep. Bäahal walked in a circle in her room before dawn, wondering how she could handle watching the golden-haired knight leave the castle. What was she supposed to do? Watch in silence as he rode his horse away from her? Should she say something? Should she do something? Her heart was racing in her ribcage, pounding so loudly that she feared someone might be able to hear them. He was an enemy. The expected reaction from her was to remain stoic as she watched him leave and she would have. She wanted to, yet couldn't. As soon as he paid his respect to Daenerys with a slight nod of his head he turned to his left and stared at Bäahal. The moment only lasts a few seconds but felt like an eternity for the princess. Her eyes grew wide and she instinctively waved at him. It didn't last long, maybe just a second, but her fingers wiggled before she clenched them on her dress and furrowed her brows. He bid her farewell with a short sentence, a few words she knew carried more weight to them than a speech. He was returning to the life he chose, close to the one he loved. He was now an enemy she shouldn't worry about, someone she should consider a threat and never trust, especially not on a battlefield. He was taking with him the memories of her he had and should she die, he would remember her. That was implied in his farewells, that was implied indeed.
Bäahal sunk into her bath, the water now reached her nose while her knees were up in the air. Her hands were wrapped around her legs, holding herself in the bathtub as she was now thinking of the days to come, the war to come. The first war was a test, a baptism even and she was reborn out of that fire into someone new. The second war was something else. The crown was at stake, Daenerys' destiny had to be fulfilled. Bäahal was focused on this and this only. There was no room for hesitation, let alone confusion. Things were very clear from the start, the line on the sand was drawn. Jaime was an enemy. He was just another knight she would slice should she encounter him on the battlefield. They promised each other to do so, give the other an honorable death. She was ready to do so, but deep down, the princess didn't want it. She didn't want to kill the knight, she didn't want him to die. Exasperated by her own self, the princess allowed the top of her body to sink into the tub, and closed her eyes until it became vital for her to breathe again. Think! Think! Bäahal! Think! She sat back on the tub and took a deep breath. As fresh air entered her lungs, the ebony bastard furrowed her brows. She crossed her arms on top of the tub and leaned her chin on them. Lord Jaime was a fool, a fool who lost himself in the maze of his feelings for Cersei. Tomorrow he would fight for the usurper, he might die for her. He would die for an evil soul who could care less about him.
It had the taste of waste on Bäahal's tongue but why did she care? Why did she spend her time thinking of the life of another man? She shut her eyes and sat back on the tub. That was stupid, she couldn't feel anything for him except maybe gratitude for the way he spoke to her. Indeed, there was gratitude and a little bit of interest. He had his charm, she had to admit. He was way more interesting than the stories and gossips made Jaime be. The golden lion knew pain, he had scars and she saw them too. It was the first thing she realized about him once they went past pleasantries and actually talked. Jaime quit being her enemy the moment they talked by the fire and for the first time in her life, she saw him as he was. He was broken and this made her want to comfort him, make him feel better, wish him better. Bäahal felt her cheeks burn and put her hand against her heart, breathing slowly as to help calm her down. Bad choice, bad luck, bad everything. He was cursed and so was she so no. No! He would die... What if he didn't? then he would surrender. What if he didn't? Then he would die. What if he was pardoned because he helped? Then he would go into exile...He would be forgotten.. he would be gone.
He would be nothing. But he was not « nothing ». He was the one who lit the fire inside of her when he awoke her desire to live. He was the one who shook her to the core, so yes, she was grateful. She gritted her teeth together and grabbed the soap she threw against the wall before she slowly started to sob. Tomorrow would be a decisive battle. The fate of her sister was at stake and nothing could stand between them, not even Bäahal. Tomorrow was clear, it would be a battle to the death, one that could only be won if one of the two queens died and it wouldn't be her sister. Bäahal would make sure of it, so quietly, she stood up and took the soap she threw moments earlier, wiped her tears off of her face and clenched her fists, determined yet again and focused on her mission. Daenerys would sit on that throne and to hell with the rest.
-TBC-
No comments:
Post a Comment