Jaime ran through the halls of Casterly Rock, ducking and weaving deftly between servants and distant relatives, only stopping to help right the poor maid who nearly got knocked over by him before he was off again in the direction of his father's solar.
Seven years he has lived in this life, a world so familiar and so foreign, and he's made it his own. He knows the story, and he knows what will happen, but there are a few things that he can try to change.
Like this.
Jaime slams the door open of his father's solar, making the man scowl, his mother yelp, and his aunt and uncles yell at him.
"Jaime," Tywin Lannister states coldly. "This is not the behavior of a–"
"The Maester is poisoning mother!" Jaime interrupted. Hopefully, the urgency of his message meant that he won't be punished for cutting the man off.
"What?" Genna gasped, grabbing Joanna's arm in support of his suddenly pale mother.
"I saw Maester Creylen prepare Moontea and put a few drops of it in mother's evening tea!" He explained, feeling slightly out of breath from the run-climb from the Maester's quarters to the solar. "I snuck inside to steal some catnip and he came in so I hid in a cupboard and I saw the whole thing! He made Moontea and put it in mother's tea and then gave it to a servant with brown hair and freckles to take it to her and then he left and I ran here."
Jaime was honestly quite surprised at this piece of information, because despite what many others would be scheming if they were in his place, he really was just wanting catnip. Jaime wasn't a player in the Game, he could barely concentrate when he studied up on the politics and history of the realm, but he knew what the original Jaime Lannister had done and he knew what he needed to do to save half a million lives in Kingslanding. Jaime had gone after the catnip because there was a litter of kittens he was raising underneath his bed and he wanted to have a reward for them for learning to use a litterbox correctly. He had no idea that the Maester conspiracy that was popular amongst A Song Of Ice And Fire fans was actually true, but after seeing Creylen, a man he trusted , thoughtless prepare poison for his mother, Jaime knew that this world was even more barbed and vicious than he originally thought.
His poor pregnant mother looked faint, hand resting over her swollen stomach in fear. She had been weaker this pregnancy, though Creylen had waved it away from saying that her labour with Jaime and Cersei had been difficult and the new toll on her already taxed womb was being exacerbated by stress. He had been preparing her an evening tea to relax ever since she hit the third trimester.
His father looked furious, "Jaime. Are you certain about this?"
Jaime scampered forward, moving so he could look at his father properly in the eyes, "I swear it, father. On the old gods and new. Maester Creylen plans to murder mother in childbed."
Tywin Lannister has never looked more dangerous. Jaime knew that he has condemned a man to torture and pain tonight, but he also knows that it wasn't an innocent man. For all the anger and betrayal he felt, for the fear for his mother, he has never been one for the death penalty. And Tywin? Jaime could almost faintly hear the Rains of Castamere playing.
A knock came on the door and when Kevan opened the door, a servant with brown hair and freckles was waiting on the other side, a cup of tea in hand, just like Jaime had warned.
Hear Me Roar: the words of House Lannister. Jaime had never thought he'd see his father embody them, he'd always been the cold and calculating sort unlike other members of the family. Jaime had already seen Cersei throw howling tantrum upon tantrum, Gerion scream at Tywin in a row, Genna snap loudly at her husband, and even seen Joanna Lannister yell a pair of feuding Westerlands ladies into line.
Kevan had the sense to grab the cup of tea and protect the evidence as Tywin roared wordlessly and slammed the servant into the stone doorway, hand snaking around her throat.
"Guards!" Tywin yowled, sounding every bit the angry lion. "Arrest Maester Creylen and take him to the deep cells! Send riders to arrest Lannisport's Maester too for good measure. Tygett, I want you to tear that grey rat's den apart! I want to know exactly what he has been putting in my wife's tea."
"Jaime, Jaime!" His mother gasped and pulled him towards her, as if she could shelter him bodily from the treachery that had been discovered. "Genna, where is Cersei? What if he poisoned her too?"
His father was still yelling, taking satisfaction out of the servant's tears. "I want this plot ripped out root and stem! Whoever dares touch my family will hear us roar! Traitors will not be suffered. A debt must be repaid with interest ."
The servant, who Jaime isn't even sure was part of the plot, whimpered. He turned away and tucked his face into his mother's side, listening to the rustling of leathers and cloths, his uncles rushing to dig out every rat from their burrow, his aunt trying to soothe his mother.
Could this mean she would live? Or would poor Tyrion be doomed to be her bane once again?
"Aunt," Jaime reached out to tug at his Aunt's sleeve. "Mother needs to be examined. If you can't use a maester, there's a midwife that takes care of the Rock's maids. She knows more than Creylen ever did."
The servant was tossed, sobbing, at a lingering Red Cloak, and father marched back into the room, pulling his wife, and, subsequently, his heir, into his arms.
"They will suffer for this, Joanna, I promise you." He kissed his wife on the forehead before addressing Jaime with a warm hand on his shoulder. "Good job, Jaime."
Jaime tried not to shudder at the praise from his father. Tywin Lannister was a man who did not hand praise out easily, nor did he apologize. He was distant like that, always reluctant to actually show affection, even to his children. Jaime has watched Cersei throw tantrums worthy of history books in an attempt to gain their father's attention while Jaime has quietly trained in hopes that maybe if he excelled just a little bit more then he might have a small piece of attention. He always gets attention from his father, just never the type that he wants.
Jaime has difficulty with reading, so he must be a lackwit. Jaime prefers swords and strategy to histories and politics, so he must be a brute. Jaime likes exploring and chasing cats, so he must be soft. Jaime was the golden heir, but not the cold gold heir his father wanted.
Cersei had even started mimicking their father, insulting Jaime when he didn't give her as much attention and devotion as she desired, thinking it might give her some approval from him.
"A midwife?" Genna questioned, "You've met a midwife?"
Jaime looked a bit sheepish, "I had questions about having a little sibling and helping mother and the Maester wasn't giving me good answers."
He had done so, and Creylen had dismissed him out of hand and given him facts that Jaime knew from his own past life were incorrect, so he went out to search for a midwife.
"A Maester only helps in a birth or two per year, but a midwife handles several pregnancies a year, so they must be better at it since they have more practice. The midwife taught me a lot, she even showed me what Moontea was and told me how it worked."
"Genna," Tywin turned to his sister. "Take some guards and go fetch that midwife, meet us in my chambers with Cersei."
Genna nodded stiffly, delicately yet firming stepping around the corner, a true lioness on the prowl to protect her pack.
"Jaime."
Jaime looked up to meet green eyes so similar to his own, "Yes, father?"
"Catnip?"
Jaime leaned into his mother's warm arms as she rubbed his back tenderly, "I may have asked the midwife to also help with some kittens."
Tywin's lips twitched upwards ever so slightly, "Soft boy." He tutted, not sounding like he meant it at all.