[Jaime’s living and Tyrion doesn’t want to think about it anymore. His one friend, one companion, one family member that treats him like a human being and he’s going off to live his dreams. And Tyrion will be stuck at Casterly Rock with everyone else that hates him; with nothing but his books for company. Jaime might not be as smart as Tyrion, so they struggle to have intellectual conversations, but Jaime is company, Jaime is protection he’s…. so many things to Tyrion that he doesn’t want to let go of.
There’s a fortnight left, so still time, but alas time continues on even when you want it to stop. No matter how much you want it to stop. Tyrion wishes there was a way to make it stop. He wishes so much that he keeps reading the same sentence over and over again and doesn’t hear Jaime’s voice until his brother speaks to him again about leaving.
His eyes rise from the page and fix on his big brother – his handsome, athletic, charming big brother and something inside Tyrion twinges. ]
I worry the moment you leave you’re going to forget how to read. [ Tyrion counters with a raised eyebrow. His wit and his words are his defence, and if he doesn’t hone his skills, he’ll lose his talent. But he’s only joking, and he gives his big brother a smile to show it, closing the book and putting it to the side. ]
Are you sure it’s a good idea to go? [ Tyrion asks. He’s asked the same question each day this week and he’ll ask it each day for the next fortnight and hope that one time Jaime will give him a different reply. ]
[ Immediately, Jaime's nose crinkles at the thought of reading. ] I don't need to know how, anyway. [ And he's told Tyrion many times, every time it's come up, that he has no intention of holding the Rock when he's older. That he plans on relinquishing every title he ever gets, that it'll all go to his little brother instead. Jaime isn't a ruler, and frankly he doesn't want to be one. He imagines becoming Kingsguard one day, of swearing never to marry, never to hold lands, never to have children-- he imagines living his life for battle and honour and protecting the realm and it means the entire world to him.
He walks across the threshold, moving from the doorway to Tyrion's desk and pulling one of the stools in the room along with him. Though set by Tyrion's chair, Jaime turns so he's sitting backwards, his back up against the desk and his hands folded neatly-- faux innocently-- on his lap. He watches Tyrion with a curious expression. ]
You're the smart one. [ It's something Jaime admires him for greatly (especially given how young Tyrion is, and already he's twice as smart as some on their father's counsel), but couldn't ever hope to be himself. Rather than envy him, Jaime's accepted this and cares little about it besides. ] What terrible things do you think lie ahead for me?
If you find something good, I might just think about it.
[ Tyrion keeps his eyes on his big brother as he moves with such ease that he envies. If only he could move like that, but instead he waddles and his joints and muscles hurt more than he likes to let on. But Jaime? He moves like a God. Looks like one, too.
Tyrion may be the smart one, but Jaime is the everything else one. And there are plenty of reasons why Jaime shouldn't leave. ]
Death, for one.
[ That was a big reason, but not the biggest in Tyrion's eyes. ]
You'll be leaving Cersei and father. You could get severely injured; your face could be cut - [ and Gods forbid that happened... ] - you could lose a leg, an arm, a hand. You could be sent off to battle and never return.
[ Tyrion trails off and pauses for a long moment, running a finger awkwardly along his desk. ]
[ Everything Tyrion says, Jaime is ready to rebuff. Cersei's going to be fine, father won't miss me, I'll heal from anything that comes up, no matter what I lose I'll be the best fighter there is, if I die for honour then I die the way I've always wanted to--
But then Tyrion brings himself up, and Jaime isn't sure what to say to that. What cocky air he might have cultivated about himself fades, the hands on his lap pause in their twiddling, and he's left sat there looking at his little brother and that finger on wood.
He doesn't say anything at first, looking towards the door and listening for footsteps. Could there be someone out there, waiting? Watching through the peephole? Jaime's brows furrow. ]
...you're going to see me again. [ Then he turns to face Tyrion once more. ] I won't forget about you. I can't forget about you.
You'll come to my knighting ceremony. You'll see when King Aerys makes me part of his Kingsguard. You...
[ Another look. Then Jaime finds Tyrion again. ]
You're the only person I've ever loved. We can't be apart forever, it's impossible.
[ Does Tyrion know that Jaime is coming home? Does he know for sure? Is there a guarantee? No, there isn't. And as much as he wants to believe that he'll see Jaime again... ]
How do you know?
[ His voice is low, quiet because they're talking about... them whatever it is. It needs to be quiet. It needs to be hidden. But Jaime is saying he loves Tyrion and he sucks in a deep breath. ]
I'm not worried about you forgetting about me. I'm worried we're never going to see each other again...
[ Tyrion turns to face Jaime, looking up at his brother with big, sad eyes. ]
[ Those eyes, gods, will be the death of him. Jaime looks appalled before he brings his hand up, pushing his palm into Tyrion's face. ] Don't look at me like that. [ Because as surprised as he'd been he's also embarrassed, and shy, and uncertain how to cope with the idea of anyone missing him like that if he died. Tywin would only care about the family name, Cersei would weep and ultimately deem him too weak to have survived at all, but Tyrion...
Jaime's hand falls away, of course. But the damage is done and Jaime has always been weak to his little brother, the person he loves most in the world, and he's sure that isn't going to be ending any time soon. ]
...of course we're going to see each other again. Have you seen me? I'm the best swordsman there is.
[ Indeed, at fifteen Jaime Lannister is already known for his skill, rumours whispering that he was born with a sword in hand. Ser Barristan of the Kingsguard wouldn't have taken him in otherwise, he thinks. Not at all. ]
I think, when you have something to live for, you fight your hardest. And when you fight your hardest, you have to live. [ It's simplistic, but Jaime has always been simple. He doesn't quite realise this only proves he's still a child, still too innocent to kill. ] I'm going to fight to come back to you. Even if I lose all my limbs I'll come back to you.
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There’s a fortnight left, so still time, but alas time continues on even when you want it to stop. No matter how much you want it to stop. Tyrion wishes there was a way to make it stop. He wishes so much that he keeps reading the same sentence over and over again and doesn’t hear Jaime’s voice until his brother speaks to him again about leaving.
His eyes rise from the page and fix on his big brother – his handsome, athletic, charming big brother and something inside Tyrion twinges. ]
I worry the moment you leave you’re going to forget how to read. [ Tyrion counters with a raised eyebrow. His wit and his words are his defence, and if he doesn’t hone his skills, he’ll lose his talent. But he’s only joking, and he gives his big brother a smile to show it, closing the book and putting it to the side. ]
Are you sure it’s a good idea to go? [ Tyrion asks. He’s asked the same question each day this week and he’ll ask it each day for the next fortnight and hope that one time Jaime will give him a different reply. ]
no subject
He walks across the threshold, moving from the doorway to Tyrion's desk and pulling one of the stools in the room along with him. Though set by Tyrion's chair, Jaime turns so he's sitting backwards, his back up against the desk and his hands folded neatly-- faux innocently-- on his lap. He watches Tyrion with a curious expression. ]
You're the smart one. [ It's something Jaime admires him for greatly (especially given how young Tyrion is, and already he's twice as smart as some on their father's counsel), but couldn't ever hope to be himself. Rather than envy him, Jaime's accepted this and cares little about it besides. ] What terrible things do you think lie ahead for me?
If you find something good, I might just think about it.
no subject
Tyrion may be the smart one, but Jaime is the everything else one. And there are plenty of reasons why Jaime shouldn't leave. ]
Death, for one.
[ That was a big reason, but not the biggest in Tyrion's eyes. ]
You'll be leaving Cersei and father. You could get severely injured; your face could be cut - [ and Gods forbid that happened... ] - you could lose a leg, an arm, a hand. You could be sent off to battle and never return.
[ Tyrion trails off and pauses for a long moment, running a finger awkwardly along his desk. ]
I might not see you again.
no subject
But then Tyrion brings himself up, and Jaime isn't sure what to say to that. What cocky air he might have cultivated about himself fades, the hands on his lap pause in their twiddling, and he's left sat there looking at his little brother and that finger on wood.
He doesn't say anything at first, looking towards the door and listening for footsteps. Could there be someone out there, waiting? Watching through the peephole? Jaime's brows furrow. ]
...you're going to see me again. [ Then he turns to face Tyrion once more. ] I won't forget about you. I can't forget about you.
You'll come to my knighting ceremony. You'll see when King Aerys makes me part of his Kingsguard. You...
[ Another look. Then Jaime finds Tyrion again. ]
You're the only person I've ever loved. We can't be apart forever, it's impossible.
no subject
How do you know?
[ His voice is low, quiet because they're talking about... them whatever it is. It needs to be quiet. It needs to be hidden. But Jaime is saying he loves Tyrion and he sucks in a deep breath. ]
I'm not worried about you forgetting about me. I'm worried we're never going to see each other again...
[ Tyrion turns to face Jaime, looking up at his brother with big, sad eyes. ]
no subject
Jaime's hand falls away, of course. But the damage is done and Jaime has always been weak to his little brother, the person he loves most in the world, and he's sure that isn't going to be ending any time soon. ]
...of course we're going to see each other again. Have you seen me? I'm the best swordsman there is.
[ Indeed, at fifteen Jaime Lannister is already known for his skill, rumours whispering that he was born with a sword in hand. Ser Barristan of the Kingsguard wouldn't have taken him in otherwise, he thinks. Not at all. ]
I think, when you have something to live for, you fight your hardest. And when you fight your hardest, you have to live. [ It's simplistic, but Jaime has always been simple. He doesn't quite realise this only proves he's still a child, still too innocent to kill. ] I'm going to fight to come back to you. Even if I lose all my limbs I'll come back to you.
I promise. And I never break my promises.