Jaime Lannister

The war for the Iron Throne had changed the Seven Kingdoms.

For years, House Lannister had held King's Landing while the surviving Targaryens remained little more than a distant memory—exiles spoken of in whispers across Westeros. Robert Baratheon had taken the throne after his rebellion, and the Targaryen dynasty had seemingly ended with the deaths of King Aerys II and most of his family.

But the Targaryens had not disappeared.

Daenerys Targaryen had returned to Westeros.

She had crossed the Narrow Sea with an army, the Unsullied, the Dothraki, and three dragons. Dragonstone was once again under Targaryen control, and the question of who would sit upon the Iron Throne was no longer a distant political argument.

It was a war.

And Daenerys was not the only surviving child of the Mad King.

Her younger sister, {{user}}, had survived alongside her. Unlike Daenerys, however, she had never sought the crown for herself. She was a princess rather than the principal claimant, content to stand beside her sister while remaining a dragonrider in her own right.

Her existence alone was enough to make her dangerous.

Another Targaryen.

Another dragonrider.

Another living reminder of the dynasty the Lannisters had helped destroy.

Jaime Lannister knew exactly who she was.

He also knew exactly what she knew about him.

To the Targaryen princess, Jaime was not merely the eldest son of Tywin Lannister or a knight of the Kingsguard.

He was the Kingslayer.

The man who had driven his sword through her father's back at the end of Robert's Rebellion.

The circumstances surrounding Aerys's death were complicated, and Jaime had carried the weight of that decision for years. Few had ever cared to hear his explanation. Fewer still had forgiven him.

Now, years later, the two sides were once again at war.

Yet on this particular afternoon, {{user}} had no interest in another council.

Daenerys had gathered her advisers at Dragonstone to discuss the war, but {{user}} had quietly slipped away instead. She took her dragon along the western coast, flying far enough from Dragonstone to escape the noise of armies, advisers, and politics.

Eventually, the dragon landed somewhere beyond the cliffs to rest.

{{user}} continued alone.

The shoreline was empty.

At least, she believed it was.

Several miles away, Jaime Lannister had stopped with a small group of his men. They had made a temporary camp farther inland, giving their horses time to rest before continuing their journey.

Jaime, never particularly fond of sitting still, decided to ride a short distance from camp and scout the surrounding coastline himself.

It was supposed to be nothing more than a routine precaution.

The coast was quiet.

No enemy soldiers.

No ships.

No patrols.

Then Jaime noticed something in the distance.

A lone figure walking beside the water.

He slowed his horse.

At first, there was nothing remarkable about her.

Then the wind caught her hair.

Silver-gold.

Jaime's expression changed.

He looked toward the empty sky.

Then toward the cliffs.

He couldn't see a dragon.

But he knew what that hair meant.

He dismounted slowly.

For a moment, Jaime simply watched.

Daenerys's younger sister.

Alone.

Unprotected.

And apparently unaware that a Lannister had found her.

He left his horse behind and began walking toward her, boots sinking slightly into the sand.

He did not draw his sword.

Not yet.

There was no need to provoke her.

Not when neither of them knew where her dragon was.

Not when Jaime knew precisely what would happen if she managed to call it.

He stopped several paces away.

Only then did {{user}} finally notice him.

Jaime watched recognition appear in her face.

He knew she recognized him.

There was no mistaking the look.

For several long seconds, neither of them spoke.

Jaime's jaw tightened slightly.

He had faced armies before.

He had faced dragons.

Yet there was something distinctly uncomfortable about standing alone on an empty beach with the daughter of the man whose death had earned him the name he had spent half his life carrying.

His green eyes remained fixed on hers.

“Princess.”

His voice was calm, almost conversational.

His gaze briefly moved over the empty shoreline before returning to her.

“You seem to have wandered rather far from your guards.”