[ Jaime is leaving to squire for Barristan Selmy in a fortnight, and it is the most excited he's ever been about anything. He's always wanted to be a knight like the men in the stories (what he could read, anyway, when the letters weren't scrambling, or what he could get people to read out loud for him), and with Ser Barristan being the most honourable knight that Jaime knows of, he can only imagine that he'd follow in his footsteps. To be knighted in the light of the Seven, to take his oaths and to serve the people-- it's all he's ever wanted, and it's all he can ever talk about.

There are some bad things, though. Becoming a squire means he'll be living in King's Landing for the foreseeable future, never to return home. Becoming a squire means he'll be at battle, and one day he might not live to come back.

Becoming a squire means leaving Casterly Rock, and leaving Casterly Rock means...

Standing in the doorway to Tyrion's room and leaning lazily against the frame, he watches his little brother at his desk and asks, ] You're not studying again, are you?

[ It means leaving Tyrion.

And Jaime is-- well. He's a lot of things, for Tyrion. Thinks a lot of things. Feels a lot of things. When Maester Volarik had kissed him in the library, Jaime had gone away inside and thought about Tyrion the whole time.

Clever, witty Tyrion. Tyrion who he can't stomach being away from without going sick with worry. How is he going to fare alone, here, with their father? With Cersei? With anyone, for that matter? Who will keep him safe?

(And would Tyrion hate him forever if he kissed him, he wonders, just as much as Jaime hates their maester and wishes him dead?) ]

You know, little brother, I worry the moment I leave you're going to forget how to have any fun.