A Dragon Kissed by Sun

Jaime Lannister 283 AC

At any other situation, Jaime, now known as The Kingslayer, would have laughed; it had been six months since the glorious Robert Baratheon became the king of The Seven Kingdoms.

After becoming the king, the first thing he did was announce a colossal feast, completely forgetting that his "True Love" was still not found and possibly dead, not that it mattered much to Robert.

The first month Jaime did nothing but avoid his father and sister like the plague, which helped that they weren't looking for his company, except Cersei, who came to him and requested something that destroyed everything one night.

' Jaime walked inside his bedchamber, the weight of his armour weighing more and more each passing day; he felt that his own sword was against him.

Just closing his eyes, he could still see her, her dead eyes looking at him with disappointment and betrayal, but she never cursed him; she only said one thing.

"Protect my little brother."

Jaime had almost gone to Ser Barristan. It wasn't that he was trying to hide it, the way Barristan was eyeing the king, the same way Cersei would look at the servants, with Disgust.

Jaime had thought to ask Ser Barristan what the dream could mean, but he knew he was the last person Ser Barristan wanted to see right now.

Sometimes, Jaime himself wanted nothing more than to open his belly, but he knew he wasn't as strong as Robert and not mentioning he was the king and killing him would probably leave his sister Heartbroken.

Removing his armour, he still felt a weight around his shoulder; taking a deep breath, he rubbed his face with his hand, removing the last bit of his armour.

"It took you long enough, Jaime."

Jaime immediately turned around to see Cersei walking from a corner of the room, his muscles relaxed. Only now, he noticed that she was almost naked, the light of the moon brightening up the room through the glass window, her yellow dress was barely hiding her nude body, her nipples were hard through the fabric, her womanhood covered by her right hand.

Her beautiful golden hair reached her middle back, her face shining.

Jaime felt himself getting hard, his breeches getting uncomfortable; Cersei noticed it and a triumphant smirk on her face, a smirk that Jaime didn't like for the first time.

He got a hold of himself as she approached him slowly, her right hand slowly letting the thin fabric fall to the ground.

"I can help you with that, Jaime", she whispered, her tone husky and full of lust. Jaime swallowed a huge breath, trying to get himself in control.

"What do you want, Cersei?" Jaime found himself asking; he knew there was more to this; if she had wanted his company before, why Now? Isn't she waiting to marry her glorious Robert?

The smirk on Cersei's face disappeared, a frown replaced it, and in an instant, Jaime swore he saw someone else in her green wildfire eyes.

"Has been a month since the Stark dog left to find the whore; she might return soon, and if she does... Jaime, you always promised me that I would be the perfect Queen," Cersei said with a sweet tone.

'Before you ran to play knight and left me alone with our mother's killer', Cersei wanted to say, just the thought of the little devil creeping out during the night, walking inside her room, his hands around her neck, strangling her, 'The valonqar shall wrap his hands about your pale white throat and choke the life from you.

Just the thought made her scared; she hated fear, she was a lion, and no one was above lions.

Jaime blinked when she heard what Cersei said; taking a step back, he felt his whole body turn as cold as the Wall itself, his warmth disappeared as soon as it appeared, the only thought he could have in his mind right now.

Disgusted

Jaime remembered the cries of help from Elia, Rhaenys...

His green eyes darkened as dark as night, his hand made a fist, and his teeth clenched together.

Cersei flinched from his eyes; these weren't the eyes of her Jaime; no, he would never look at me like that...

"Out", Jaime said with a voice full of Disgust; Cersei's eyes widened, her teeth biting her lower lip, preventing herself from screaming at him.

"Jaime, my brother... " "OUT" Jaime screamed and almost hit his sister, maybe soon to be Queen.

She looked furiously at Jaime, grabbing her nightgown she left with what little dignity she had left; she didn't even turn to look at him.'

Cersei had avoided him for months from that day, not that Jaime was looking for her company.

He still remembered fresh in his mind when they were younger, Cersei had gone to his room one night saying how she would be the perfect Queen one day; Jaime had asked her why she was so sure she would be a Queen.

She only had just put her finger in her lips and moved her lips, saying 'Never.

Jaime couldn't find this situation more ironic, Cersei was the Queen of The Seven Kingdoms right now, yet she looked as miserable as the poorest man in Westeros.

Her face looked red, her veins around her forehead looked ready to split open, as Robert grabbed a servant and started grabbing her breasts shamelessly.

Jaime had to close his eyes or just look the other way every time the "King" did something like this.

After marrying Cersei, Jaime had waited to see what kind of king Robert would be, but it had taken only a week for them to see it.

A week after marrying Cersei, Robert had thrown a feast, and Jaime, along with Ser Barristan, helped him to his bedchamber; Cersei had left to her bedchamber long ago. Still, after a short time, a woman walked inside the king's room, followed by Ser Meryn Trant, a fish straight out of a garderobe.

"The king needs company", he said and left the poor girl who was only around her early twenties.

Jaime felt himself wanting to vomit; Ser Barristan just looked the other way.

That night they were forced to hear the girl moaning to the seven, sometimes praying for a bastard son.

Releasing a sigh, his eyes glanced at Ser Barristan, who looked at the symbol of Baratheon standing at the largest window of King's Landing.

The throne hall was filled with Stag and Lion symbols everywhere.

At first, The King had tried to hide it, but the pass-first month of marriage, Robert didn't even try to hide it anymore, having a feast every day. The older man, Jon Arryn, tried to talk, but the words just fell on deaf ears.

Jaime sighed again; he tried to talk with his lord commander; every time he tried, his glare and eyes filled with disappointment pushed him away.

Kingslayer

How much Jaime hated that word when people whispered 'Kingslayer' behind his back. He wanted to yell at them, and he had saved all of them.

Burn them all

Jaime felt sweat on his forehead, his eyes seeing that everyone was still busy with the feast; he suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder, his head turned to his left to see Ser Barristan.

"You alright, Ser Jaime" The young Lannister could only nod his head.

'What is wrong with me?' Jaime asked himself, not knowing why he suddenly started sweating.

Jaime Lannister 284 AC

He was standing guard but might as well just fall asleep, his commander standing to his left as the king was in bedchamber sleeping with two women.

"YES Yesss Yes, GIVE ME YOUR CHILD"

The door didn't do an excellent job to save them from this misery.

Jaime would rather spend a whole day cleaning shit from the garderobe than hear this.

"Why did you have to fall, Prince Rhaegar" Ser Jaime found himself whispering.

"What?"

Jaime turned to Ser Barristan, who was looking at him confused.

"What?" Jaime asked back; the old knight said nothing but just moved his eyes away from him. Ser Jaime saw a guard walking towards them, his Lion symbol on his chest a clear indication.

"Ser Jaime, the Queen, requests you in her solar", the soldier said, a boy, still a green boy.

Jaime felt a headache coming towards him; he felt his head wanting to slip open, it had been a year since Cersei married her glorious king and became a Queen, but Jaime could hear the whispers.

Many were asking why she wasn't pregnant yet.

Jaime said nothing to him but walked towards her solar missing the narrowed eyes of Ser Barristan.

Reaching the door, he found it unguarded; he opened the door, finding the solar empty. His foot moved immediately to the door leading to her bedchamber; slamming it open, he saw her lying on her bed as naked as the day she was born.

If it had been his old self, he would jump at her, but right now, he only could hear her words that night.

Just remembering her words made him as cold as The North, seeing her alright.

"What can I do for you, my Queen?" Jaime asked with a neutral tone.

Cersei stopped moving after hearing his words; her eyes turned greener, Jaime thought.

"Jaime, my lov" "I see you're not in danger, I will take my leave," Jaime said and left the room before she could say anything; the sound of glass smashing against the Wall reached his ear before he left, his feet moving on his own almost in a hurry.

When he reached Ser Barristan, he was surprised to see him looking at him with a smile, with a sincere one.

One Month Later

Jaime wanted a hole to open beneath him and swallow him whole; this night, instead of protecting the drunken king as some people in King's Landing had started calling him, his Queen had requested him to guard her door as she...

"Yes Yes Oh Fuck Yes YEEESSS" she screamed and screamed.

Jaime tried to cover his ears but wasn't helping; his sister kept screaming throughout the whole night, thankfully no Baratheon soldier was around, and the king was deep in a whore.

The following day, Jaime saw Cersei smirking at him triumphantly every time she glanced in his direction, but Jaime could see the little looks she was giving Tygett.

Jaime lost all colour of his face, his face as white as snow; Ser Barristan noticed the pale look of Ser Jaime; he looked ready to drop dead at any moment.

"Ser Jaime, do you need to rest?" He asked, concerned, but the Kingslayer shook his head repeatedly.

288 AC

'Jaime ran and ran, his legs moving as fast as possible, her screams echoing throughout the whole castle.

"Jaime, Please Help Me"

"I'm coming", Jaime cried out and reached her room, his hands trying to open the door, but he couldn't open it, wasn't budging no matter how hard he tried. He tried, he tried, he kicked, but the door stood.

"Jaime, JAIME"

"No, Not Again, Not Again, Not Again..." he fell on his knees, his eyes crying.

Silence surrounded him, and He didn't know how long he was lying on the ground; he felt wind brushing off against his hair and skin; opening his eyes, he saw sand on his right hand; looking around, he saw himself in the middle of a desert.

The sand around his palm flew away from the wind, revealing Rhaeny's necklace, but the dragon head looked different; it was a wolf instead.

Jaime slowly grabbed the necklace, almost afraid that he would break it.

"Ser Jaime" turning around, he saw Rhaenys, wearing her dress. Smiling at him, just how she used to before...

"Protect my little brother, Ser Jaime. You promised me" '

Jaime opened his eyes, looking around the room; for the very first time, his room didn't look as dark as before.

A Wolfhead?? What could that mean? Why does it mea ... Lyana Stark.

Ned Stark 283 AC

His brother was quiet as he led him to the crypt; Ned had wanted to not include anyone else in this secret until and if Jaehaerys decided to take the throne.

But no, he would not allow his brother to go to the Wall because of hating himself for what happened to Lyanna; if there were anyone to blame, that would be me, Ned thought with a wounded heart, he still could hear her words, the last smile on her face when she saw his face.

Walking downstairs, Ned suddenly felt heavy; every step he took on the staircase made of stone felt heavier, the air felt cold, his throat felt like little blades piercing inside his throat.

He took a torch, the fire illuminated the long tunnel, he could see the Starks of the past staring at him, their dire wolves eyeing him and his brother, almost trying to see if they were Stark.

Ned felt uneasy, and it had been a long time since he put a step inside the crypts; how Long? Ned found himself asking.

After his father had sent him to Jon Arryn to foster, he hadn't visited this place since then; he remembered the last time coming here with his father.

He had requested for him in the solar when Ned had walked inside his father's solar, he had found him writing a letter, and surprisingly, he told the maester to send it to House Tully.

Ned hadn't paid it any attention at the time, and his father knew his duties and Ned would probably just marry a Northern bribe and have a keep somewhere.

His father then told him to follow him to the crypts, and he told him not to cause trouble and make friends in Eyrie.

Right now, Ned wanted to apologise for not being here for so long; Ned and Benjen walked side by side, soon they found the face of their sister.

"Lya, I'm sorry for not visiting you sooner," Ned said with a grave tone, his head bowed, looking at the ground.

Benjen said the same thing and turned to look at his big brother, whose eyes were red and looked older than his age.

Ned turned around and looked at his brother, and he took a deep breath preparing for what would happen; he just hoped Benjen wouldn't scream at him much.

"Why did you bring me here?" Benjen asked, his low tone echoing throughout the whole crypt.

Ned put the torch on the bracket and turned to look at his brother.

"What do you know about what happened between Rhaegar and Lyanna?" Asked Ned as he checked over Lyanna's statue with his eyes.

"Only what everyone else knows", replied Benejen as he to looked at Lyanna.

"It was all a lie, brother. All of it," said Ned softly, as if speaking too loudly would wake everyone around them up. "Everything about Rhaegar kidnapping Lyanna and him raping her, it was a lie", continued Ned.

"They fell in love, didn't they?" Asked Benjen, with a sad look in his eyes.

Ned turned his eyes at his brother in surprise. "Y-you knew?" He asked with a low dangerous tone, almost like a growl of a wolf.

Benjen shook his head with closed eyes. "I-I suspected something but never saw anything to completely convince me that she ..." Benjen stopped with a heavy heart.

Ned understood him and just nodded his head, and he blamed himself for pushing the marriage.

"Aye, they did. I was so caught up in my prejudice and anger towards the Mad King that I forgot what kind of a man Rhaegar was. He was always better than his father. For a Targaryen, he wasn't half bad," said Ned with bowed head.

"Lya wasn't the type to fall for an arse", smiled Benjen towards both his sister and Ned. A true smile.

"No, she wasn't. After he proclaimed her the Queen of love and beauty at the tourney at Harrenhall, I believe they met several times, and during which time, they fell in love with each other," explained Ned.

"And?" pressed Benjen, although he kind of already knew what his brother was trying to say.

"After what The Mad King did to our father and brother, myself and Robert decided to start the rebellion against the crown, and you know what happened after that when I found her, it was too late, I promised I would take care of her son," said Ned and looked at his brother.

Benjen looked confused before his face turned as pale as milk, his breath quickened. "Son?" Benjen asked, wanting to make sure he heard him right.

Ned nodded his head.

Benjen lowered his head, his legs pacing around the crypt before he took back his composure and turned to look at his brother.

"Where is He?" He demanded to know immediately; a part of Lya was still alive and breathing, his sister still lived inside him.

"In Dorne..." before Ned could utter another word Benjen grabbed him by the throat and slammed him against the Wall, his legs not touching the ground.

"We Need to Get Him Back Now", His brother growled and released his hand; Ned's face had turned red, his hands around the part where his brother had grabbed, desperately trying to catch his breath.

"Noo, Arthur - and his King's Guard are protecting him. No one will harm him," Ned finally said.

Benjen stopped moving when he heard his brother. "I thought they were ... " "No, They are alive, they are with... Prince Jaehaerys in Sunspear," Ned finished.

Benjen relaxed, hearing the king's guards were with him; he looked at his hands before turning to look at his brother.

"I'm sorry, Ned", but his brother just raised his hand and gestured that everything was alright.

Benjen found himself smiling. "What happened?"

"King Robert slew Rhaegar and Jamie Lannister killed The Mad King," said Ned.

"Whilst all that was going on, Lyanna was in the Tower of Joy, giving birth and dying. By the time I managed to get to her, it was too late," whispered Ned, though loudly enough for Benjen to be able to hear him. "I entered and room, and there she was, lying there with blood all around her, barely conscious and babe in her arms", went on Ned. "Even though she knew she was dying, she still had a smile filled with love on her face. Looking down on her babe with care and love like a new mother does" said, Ned.

"She saw me and gestured me over. I knelt beside her, and she just looked at me with tears in her eyes. I looked down at the babe, and she leant in so only I could hear. She made me swear to protect her babe, to protect him from Robert. She knew that Robert would stop at nothing to kill her babe if he ever found out who the babe was. I gave her my word that day that I would protect him, even if that meant having to lie to everyone," Ned finished.

Benjen understood the only reason he knew was that he had decided to join the Walk to somehow atone for his sins.

"How does my nephew look like?" Benjen asked.

"Purple eyes, but the hair and face of Lyanna, give him Lya's eyes, and he would look like a Stark", Ned described him with a chuckle.

"Benjen, I would like you to reconsider your decision to join the Wall; I promised to both Lya and Jaehaerys that I would support him, if he intends to take the Throne, he will need his uncle", Ned stated with a much more serious tone and put his hand on his shoulder.

Benjen looked at his brother and nodded his head immediately, without giving it a second thought.

"Lyanna would literally kill me from beyond the grave if I refused", He stated.

Ned smiled at his brother; they both glanced at Lyanna before they left the crypts.

Benjen vowed while walking away from the crypts that her child and his nephew would have the throne.

Reaching the solar, Ned turned his head and wanted to tell him something when ...

"Brother, is - is it true that you have a ...bastard?" Benjen asked with a careful tone,

Ned closed his eyes tightly at the mention of his daughter, and he could see her right in front of him, so close that he felt like he could touch her and kiss her forehead.

Opening his eyes, Ned just nodded his head; Benjen didn't ask any more questions.

"Benjen, I would like you to have Moat Cailin."

289 AC - Iron Islands

The waves crashed against the sharp black rocks of the island with dull roars, foam spraying into the air. Aeron Greyjoy blinked as a light spray of seawater splashed across his face. As usual, it was a dark, overcast day, the harsh winds tearing across the island of Old Wyk, causing banners and cloaks to flap and crack. It was not yet raining, but a low rumble of thunder sounded in the distance.

"By the will of the Drowned God, and all those that stand before him this day, I name you, Balon of the House Greyjoy, captain of the Great Kraken and lord paramount of the Iron Islands and Pyke, King of the Iron Islands," droned the priest, his dull blue, green and grey robes flapping in the wind, as too was his long coarse black grey hair. "Kneel."

Balon Greyjoy did as he was bid, dropping to both his knees on the grass and rocks. His thin, gaunt face showed no hint as to what was in his mind, his eyes ever focussed in front of him.

"As King of the Iron Islands, I present you with this driftwood crown." Tarle the Thrice Drowned, quite aptly named, raised the crown, made from rough, pointed pieces of driftwood forged together, and placed it on Balon"s head. The pries took a step back and said, "what is dead may never die."

King Balon Greyjoy raised his head and echoed, "what is dead may never die."

"But rises again, harder and stronger," finished Tarle. "Rise."

And so Balon Greyjoy, King of the Iron Island and Aeron"s eldest brother, stood, his long hair blowing wildly in the wind with his faded grey robes. Aeron knew his brother, and he knew that he was, like all Iron Islanders, not one for style. Despite his crowning, his robes would remain the same. As would his hard, unmoving face, nor his fierce determination. From this day forwards, my own brother will raise the Iron Islands back to its former glory. The Old Way; the way it should be.

Balon now walked past the priest and crossed the grassy and rocky outcropping, passing many lords and their banners. From where Aeron was standing at the edge of the outcropping, mere feet away from where his brother kneeled, he could make out the vairy green and black of House Blacktyde, their lord Baelor standing below it; House Drumm of Old Wyk, the white bone hand-printed on red; the House Harlaw, a silver scythe on black, and all their other minor branching houses.

Standing next to Aeron was the rest of his family. Victarian was standing immediately next to Aeron, the trace of a smile on his lips and victory in his eyes. He knows he will lead the Iron Fleet. Next to him was Euron, hard and imposing as always, but with a calm, passive expression to his face. Screeching hinges. Standing tall and proud next to him was Balon"s two eldest sons, Rodrik and Maron, with their much younger brother Theon beside them, a grin on his face as usual. And beside him, though not looking like she wanted to be, was Asha, a few years older than her young brother Theon. Her hair was unkempt and short, and her chest was as flat as a boy"s. Had he not known her, Aeron would have indeed mistaken her for one. And last of the Greyjoys, though not by birth, was Alannys, hard-jawed and suspicious-eyed. The once Harlaw had been growing apart from her husband for some time now, though nobody dares say it openly.

When Balon had reached the end of the lines of lords and bannermen, he turned and gave a short nod. Though nothing was said, Aeron knew what he meant. The affair was done. Everybody was not to leave. As the small crowd dispersed from the outcropping, Balon stood patiently, waiting for everybody to go. The Greyjoys were the only ones remaining, and they all made their way over to their new king.

"I'll be holding a council once we arrive back in Pyke. Brothers, you will be there. And you two as well, Rodrik and Maron. Alannys, you will take Theon and Asha with you now. I wish to speak with my brothers and other sons as we head back to the ships."

Alannys nodded curtly, "very well," and she gestured for Theon and Asha to go with her.

Balon waited until they were far ahead before he started walking. "There will be much to plan."

Of course, Victarian was the first to speak. "Brother, give me command of the Iron Fleet, and I shall see that our enemies are crushed without mercy."

"I intend for you to have command of the Iron Fleet. Aeron, you will also be in the Fleet."

"What of me, Balon?" asked Euron, never one for titles.

"I want you to devise a plan that we may use to press our advantage over the royal fleet, which will no doubt be dispatched from Lannisport the moment Robert Baratheon hears of what we are doing."

Beside them stood the Grey King's Hall, old and cracked bones making up the pillars and beams that formed around the hall. It was an ancient spot and one that was not frequently visited.

"This is where it would seem we have one advantage over the Iron Throne," said Euron. "We have the element of surprise, and we would be wise to use this to our advantage. The Iron Throne will have no idea what hit them, so to speak."

Balon turned his head to his brother, "what are you suggesting?"

"I'm thinking that our first move should be bold and hit hard. Victarian will lead the Iron Fleet to Lannisport, where he shall set fire to the royal Fleet, destroying it in one swift move. The bastards will have very little support from the sea that way."

Whatever Euron maybe, Aeron thought, cunning was one of them.

Balon seemed to approve of this suggestion. "Yes, this might work," he nodded. "Victarian, Aeron, you will do as Euron has suggested. Burn the royal Fleet to ashes in the sea, and then move on to the coast of Fair Isle, where Rodrik shall be rejoining the Fleet after having lain waste to the villages along the coast."

"And what of me, father?" asked Maron, eager to be set something to do.

"You'll stay at Pyke in case it should come under assault from the Iron Throne. I shall be there as well. Pyke has been my seat ever since my father died, and I will not see it taken on a whim."

"As you command."

"The Iron Islands will once again reave and pillage as it was by the Old Ways," Balon said.

As the six men crossed the field of Nagga's Hill, the rain began to fall, and the storm rose.