[ Jaime isn't seated, because this isn't his house. He's almost entirely unconcerned with Robert's well-being, given his duty right now (as one among many bodyguards to Prime Minister Baratheon) is to deal with Alex and... whatever it is Alex does. Yes, he's aware he's the one who found the man through digging into his reputation. He's also aware that Alex has done protective wards for various other places Robert has stayed at.
Does he actually know what Alex does, though? No.
Does he believe in what he does? Also no.
He's learned to stop questioning everything Alex does, though, and while he spares the satchel a look when the guy enters the kitchen, Jaime says nothing as he makes his way out the kitchen door towards the car he'd taken with him.
Jaime opens the door to the back for Alex to get into, even if he doesn't want to. The man is, after all, Robert's guest. ]
[ Jaime doesn't even give Alex a moment to go through his bag before he's moving again. With a roll of his eyes, Alex buttons his bag back up and slings the strap over his shoulder. He wonders if he has time for a quick smoke on the way but judging by the way Jaime moves, he guesses not.
The fact that the other man opens the door for him as Alex raising an eyebrow. ]
You're kidding, right?
[ Who the fuck did this guy think Alex was? He was hardly of any importance. Still, he grunts his appreciation and slides into the back of the car. He ignores the seatbelt, and tips the contents of his bag out onto the other two seats in the back of the car and begins to rifle through them. ]
Robert said that the thing that's after him his like a ghost, yeah? And it can move stuff? Sounds like a classic Poltergeist to me but you can never be too sure...
[ Jaime might be the biggest sceptic on the planet (second only to his little brother, he imagines), but he remembers Robert's rants well enough and nods. ] It's capable of setting things on fire as well, I'm told. [ A fact that he doesn't believe; he's still convinced that Robert's poltergeist is just the result of the man's life drinking and fucking and waking up the next morning forgetting everything he did the night before. He's seen the trashed rooms, of course-- that was why he found Alex in the first place, weeks ago-- but never anything burnt. It's absolute bullshit.
Honestly, if not for his marriage to Jaime's sister, he would have never taken the damn job. ]
And yes, we're going to the hotel. [ Which is a considerable drive, really. ] Robert will be checking in tomorrow-- I'm assuming you've already done your work proofing his house for tonight and I don't have to bring you back?
[ Because Jaime really, really doesn't want to drive any more than this tonight. It's less a question of nobility and more the reality that he's a bit prone to half-assing most things. ] We're headed to Oxford. Accommodations have been made for you.
Setting things on fire? [ Alex can't help but scoff and roll his eyes. Right. ] Giles would love that... [ But Giles was back in America. Giles wasn't with Alex on the way to Oxford and he could only imagine how much Jaime would love having another British man around so they could sit about and drink tea and... do whatever else British people do.
Oxford. Alex vaguely remembers being told about Oxford a while ago but, like all other useless information, he forgot it fairly quickly. He breathes out and thumbs through a journal, the pages yellowed and worn and the ink fading. ]
Setting things on fire...
[ He spoke to himself, trying to think at the same time as listening to Jaime. ]
The house is fine, don't worry about it. There's salt around every entrance and holy water in Robert's room. I've told him to wear a crucifix just in case it's something religious related.
[ Alex paused. He wonders how far away Oxford is, and if they'd be able to stop for a break. ]
[ A fucking crucifix. Jaime is trying desperately not to roll his eyes, instead squeezing a marginally tighter grip around the wheel and making a brief cock of his head. ] Crack a window open. [ It's the bare minimum for smoking in a car, but because this isn't his car, it's not like Jaime particularly cares if it smells like smoke when he brings it back. Chances are Robert's going to be too wasted to notice, anyway. ]
What's that you're looking at? [ He's never seen it before, is his defence for why he's asking. It's not that Alex has never given him reason for doubt or anything, but Jaime doesn't enjoy being faced with new things. Whatever excitement he might have had for the world faded away with the months' long imprisonment in a dark fucking camp.
He's fairly certain Alex has never had to consult any proper readings before, either. But then, it's not like Jaime's tasked to watch him 24/7. ]
[ Alex is chewing on the skin around his index fingernail as he reads, and mutters a 'thanks' when he's granted permission to smoke. Cracking a window in the back, it doesn't take two moments for Alex to pull out a packet of cigarettes and light one. He takes a deep breath in, and then blows the smoke out of the window.
He turns the page of the journal and holds his cigarette between the thumb and forefinger of his left hand as he talks. ]
Journal. From my ... great-grandad, I think. I'm not a books guy, but my whole family were hunters and they documented everything they came across - what they look like, their behaviour patterns and how to get rid of them. Trying to see if there's anything about fire breathing things.
[ Alex talks casually, because this was what he had been around all his life. He doesn't know what it's like on the outside, listening to somebody talk about ghosts and vampires and werewolves and everything in between. He moves to the middle of the back, so he can lean over and shove a book into Jaime's face. He doesn't care if the man is driving. ]
See, there's Dragons but, Dragons haven't existed for at least 700 years. I don't think it's that but it's the only thing I can think of that breathes fire...
[ The thought of Alex's entire lineage being into the hunting business is less impressive than it ought to be. It's not the same as saying, ah, yes, I'm a Lannister, of those Lannisters; it just makes Jaime think that everyone in the man's family was downright batty. Fortunately for everyone involved, he doesn't say so; he just makes some quiet noise of acknowledgement.
Which quickly turns into a disgruntled noise of irritation when the book is shoved in front of him. ] Alex! [ One hand moves to bring the book down, and as much as he wants to reach all the way to push the young man's head away, Jaime just curls his hand into a fist and thumps it lightly at his own lap before putting it back on the wheel. ]
...Christ. Dragons? [ He's worked hard to sound respectful ever since meeting the guy, but there's something to be said about the risk of crashing this god damn car because of fictional winged lizards. Jaime's tone is the slightest bit disbelieving. ] Why do you have a book about dragons?
Did your family hunt dragons?
[ Of course they didn't. Jaime's just going with it now. ]
[ There's a laugh at Jaime's (in Alex's opinion) over-reaction to him showing him something, and he sits back in the middle of the back seats and keeps smoking. Who gives a shit if they crash? It's not like either of them have that much to live for. Of course, Alex is only making assumptions for Jaime, but he figures a guy with such a stick up his ass isn't all that interested in having a family of his own. He might be entirely wrong, but Alex doesn't care enough to ask at the moment. ]
Calm down, Barbara.
[ Another roll of blue eyes, and they're back on the journal again. Hunting dragons? Was Jaime stupid? ]
No you moron, no one's seen one for hundreds of years, but that doesn't mean they didn't exist. It could be a Wendigo, though. Does Robert read or watch a lot of shit about things that breathe fire? Sometimes if you believe in something so much it can just... appear. Out of nowhere.
[ The cigarette was back in his mouth, and Alex smoked it without his hands as he flipped through a couple of other journals. Jesus, everything was a fucking mess, but Alex could feel the excitement building in him as it did when he felt like he was getting close to figuring something out. Hunting was his job - it was his life. ]
It's like that episode of Doctor Who, right? The Tenth Doctor and Rose end up in London during the Olympics and there's that little girl who's got this giant drawing of her dad in her wardrobe and it almost comes to life.
[ What in God's name makes it look like Jaime watched Doctor Who?
Still, because he doesn't want it to be explained any further, he goes with: ] Uhuh. [ It's a half-assed answer, but half-assed is probably enough. ]
He's obsessed with the Targaryens, if that makes a difference. [ The Targaryens-- an old, rich family, renowned in the modern age for creating a cult centred around... well, the notion that dragons would be returning to earth, and that a) humans had to be sacrificed to fire to bring them back; and b) there were eggs hidden away somewhere in nature. The Targeryens had been noble, once-- Jaime did his research since joining Robert's flock of bodyguards-- but that had been centuries ago. Supposedly, the last one had died quietly in the ancestral home in the late 2000's.
But Robert is convinced there're still Targaryens out there-- purebloods, not initiates into the family. Apparently he had a girlfriend who ended up a part of the cult and died for it. Honestly, Jaime didn't concern himself with the entire history, but that's because he's very much a live in the moment sort of man.
And he wants to go to sleep instead of live this moment out. ] I doubt Robert Baratheon has the ability to conjure fire out of nowhere. [ He's not supposed to talk ill of the man he works for, but Jaime hates him. Besides, not conjuring fire should be a good thing, right? ] The ability to set something on fire in a drunken blackout, though? Definitely more likely.
[ Alex is aware of the Targaryens, at least vaguely. It's deep in the British history (amongst everything else the land-hungry Brits have done - like America can talk) but he isn't all that familiar. It seems Jaime is, though. Alex listens as he smokes and reads and flicks the cigarette end out of the window, doing it back up once he's finished. That's better. It'll be an hour before he'll start itching for another.
There's an actual laugh from Alex as Jaime makes a joke about setting something on fire and nods his head. ]
Yeah he's not the only one... [ Alex has done a lot of stupid shit when he's been drunk. It's just a shame he wasn't drunk when he agreed to save his father's life in exchange for his soul in 10 years time. ]
You'd be surprised at what people's imagination is like, especially if it's a ... cult thing. That's what the Targaryens were all about, right? If Robert believes that -- and there are other people out there that do -- it could very well come true. Have you seen Robert doing anything unusal lately? Any mentions of Tibetan Spirit Sigils?
Tibetan...? [ It bothers him a little, being plunged into Alex's world like this. Jaime's no believer of tall tales, and this entire conversation seems to give off the impression that perhaps he does. He doesn't want to talk about it, but he doesn't want Alex to tell Robert he was uncooperative-- a thing that is entirely in his right, a thing that exhausts Jaime even to consider.
He tries to think about if Robert's ever mentioned anything about Tibetan anything else. Perhaps in his conversations with Ned Stark... ]
Maybe. [ It's not the most reliable answer, but it's what Jaime has. ] I'll ask the others if they've heard of it.
[ It'd be typical Robert if he were the cause of his own downfall, all things aside. ]
So you think Robert's invoked some sort of creature out of his own fear?
[ And the only thing that Alex can think of, based on what Jaime has told him. But Alex is wrong - and he won't realise how wrong he is until it's too late.
He flicks through the journal and huffs when he gets to the end, picking up another one. Jesus, he should have an index or something. ]
My Dad got rid of one once... I'm sure he wrote it down somewhere but I'm sure as shit not gonna give him a call to find out.
[ Not that Asher Wilson would answer the phone to his only son, anyway. You would think if you sold your soul to save someone, they'd at least answer your calls. Or say thank you.
It's not long until Alex gives up, and sits back to look out of the window. ]
So what's your deal, then? Why are you running after the Prime Minister? You don't seem the type.
[ Jaime wants to say something along the lines of if this thing is going to save Prime Minister Baratheon's life, I'm pretty sure you can swallow your fucking pride and call your dad, but given he'd like to avoid his own father as much as possible, he decides perhaps it isn't the right time.
Fortunately, Alex changes the topic, and Jaime snorts because it's a ridiculous thing to hear. ]
Who wouldn't be honoured to serve such a prominent figure to our country? [ Sarcasm drips from every syllable, however, and Jaime shakes his head as he turns a corner and keeps going. ] It pays all right. [ That should suffice.
He doesn't mention that it had been Robert's idea. He doesn't mention that Jaime had once been in one of the Targaryens' chapters, and that had been Robert's wife (his sister)'s idea. He doesn't say that he'd killed the leader of the damn thing himself, that Robert's been keeping this secret ever since Jaime was taken onto his payroll.
But he does lean back when he hits a red light, crinkling his nose slightly at the smell of smoke. ]
I'm ex-army. Most of us end up private bodyguards. It's not that hard to imagine.
[ Alex doesn't get it, but he supposes it's something to do with being British. Most ex-army in America well... Alex didn't know. He didn't socialise with anybody. ]
If I got asked to protect the President I'd... probably tell them to fuck off.
[ Or he'd pretend that he's trying to protect him, but take him out instead. Who fucking needed a President like that? Alex pulled his phone from his pocket and checked his messages - nothing. ]
If you do something for the money only you can't be enjoying it that much.
[ Hunting certainly didn't pay that much - in fact, this job was the most pay he'd ever gotten for a job. Usually, he got nothing. ]
Oh, [ he laughs, albeit more sardonic than anything else ] don't give me the "love what you do at work" speech. [ Because Jaime might have done just that only to go to war and lose whatever facades of brightness or honour or gods know what he had before he grew up, and he doesn't want to hear it.
Doing the right thing isn't worth the mental trauma that comes with it, that much is certain. ]
I don't mind this job. [ A lie-- he hates it, he hates Robert, and he hates listening to Robert fuck and he hates listening to his sister talk about how much she hates him. He knows. He knows a lot, and he's tired by all of it. ] That's mercy in a world like this.
[ Jaime's gaze shifts, meeting Alex's in the rearview mirror. ] Are you trying to tell me you love [ pause ] "hunting", then?
[ Alex laughs too and shakes his head. That's not what he's trying to do at all, but he doesn't see the point in doing something shit - for someone shit - just for the money. Maybe he actually has morals after all. ]
Nah, man. [ Alex picks at a fingernail and slumps back, legs apart as he gets comfortable. He looks up, meeting Jaime's eyes. ]
It's all I've known. I grew up with it - went hunting with my folks when I was a kid, just like they did. It's a weird family thing. My cousins do it. We all do.
[ Alex shrugs, bringing his thumb up to his mouth to pull a rogue bit of skin and then suck on it because he'd just made it bleed. ]
Might as well keep goin' with it, 's not like I went to fuckin' College or whatever.
i pwomise i go 2 bed after sending this in Holy CHrist
[ The light changes and Jaime drives again. He could say it's hard to picture doing something because your family does it, but it isn't; for as long as Jaime can remember, he'd been home tutored in more than the basic curriculums, meant to be groomed into the lord of modern finance that Tywin Lannister was. He was supposed to take over the family business as the eldest son and he knows this more than anything.
He knows the disappointment, too, more than anything. ]
If you work for a family thing, I suppose you're just as fucked as me.
[ Schadenfreude's never let him down.
That, and it's crazy to think of generations in the past doing what Alex does, of generations in the future all doing the same thing. A family of police is something else, indeed. ]
[ Another laugh. Yeah he guessed Jaime was right. Alex was fucked . . . well and truly, fucking fucked. ]
It's not like we run a fuckin' business, it's just shit that you get involved in. Avenging the world and getting rid of ghostly bastards. You'd be surprised at how much people fuck with the undead. Y'know the amount of houses I've been to and had to sort shit out because people don't know not to play with Ouija boards?
[ God, Alex hated those fucking things. Why did people think it was a good idea to play with things that weren't meant to be played with? Whoever invented that damn board needed to be killed. It really fucking pissed him off. ]
I don't know about less scarred -- [ Alex paused and considered telling Jaime what had happened to him four years ago, and how he only had six years left to live. ] -- but I guess it won't matter in a few years anyway.
Lots of things don't matter after a few years. [ The fact that Jaime's life has become loveless for a hateful woman almost three decades after he dedicated his life to her is proof enough of that. He brings a hand up, dragging it down his face, and blinks once to stave off the hilariously infinite bitterness of it all.
Yeah, it's best not to think about time.
Jaime straightens, tilting his head from side to side. It's only about half an hour left and they'll be at the hotel, and Jaime can leave Alex and go home and fall face first into the floor. ]
What's a Ouija board? [ A rant, he's sure, will pass the time easy. ]
[ Alex grunts in agreement and nods. Yeah. That's right. It seems he's not the only one bitter about something, but he won't ask if Jaime won't. He figures it's probably a conversation for another time.
Maybe. He looks up at Jaime's question and sighs. ]
It's a board with all the letters of the alphabet on, a 'yes' and a 'no' and some other phrases and people - dumbasses use it to try and talk to spirits. Ghosts. Y'know? Anyway, it creates a mess and demons and shit pretend to be loved ones to communicate and if they're not closed properly it just...
[ Not that Jaime believes in any of this crap, really. But there's little else he fears more than whatever lies ahead of dying; something that powerful and inevitable sounds like it ought to be impossible to change. ]
If it's any consolation, [ and he knows it probably isn't, if Alex and his family is so far gone into the supernatural world and everything in between ] I'm stuck working for a dumbass who can apparently invoke a fire ghost.
[ Or whatever it is Alex called it. ]
And I still will after this haunting business is over. [ Pause. ] I'm just assuming not all your cases are hopeless.
[ Cheat death. Even if that meant getting someone to do it for you and switch places. Alex didn't even know if his dad was in Hell when he made the deal - he just knew he wanted him back . . . because he wanted to try and have some kind of relationship with him. ]
Last time I tried to help someone cheat death I just got fucked over myself, so...
[ His voice is low, murmuring, and he picks at a loose thread on his shirt as he talks because he doesn't want to look up at Jaime and see what his reaction to that was. ]
Looks like we're both gonna be in Hell forever, then.
Yes, [ it's all he can say with his utterly limited context, that much is certain, and frankly Jaime doesn't need to know any more than the absolute minimum ] though I suppose your situation is slightly worse. [ He shrugs. They both know what Prime Minister Baratheon is like. ] Marginally.
[ The hotels in a university area aren't extravagant, so the building Jaime pulls up in front of isn't especially tall. It's pretty, though, with simple decor and a pleasing colour palette, and Jaime finds a parking space easily, killing the engine and stepping out.
Again, he holds Alex's door open for him. It's more protocol than anything, and once Alex is out it's shut firmly once again. ]
The Prime Minister's accommodations are on the sixth floor. [ The highest one, in a modest place like this. Jaime has the keys already, so they skip the front desk and go straight to the staircase. ]
Be glad you're not the one who has to lead him up towards it.
[ Alex says nothing for the rest of the journey. If only Jaime knew just how right he was about Alex's situation being worse. It didn't matter, though. Not anymore.
He scooped the journals up, shoving them quickly back into his bag because he wanted to be the one to open his damn door, but there Jaime was again - a knight in shining armour, it seemed - door open and closing once Alex was out. Blue eyes looked at the hotel, taking in the details and wondering what their policy was on laying down a shit load of salt around all the windows and doors.
The sixth floor. Didn't seem much of a problem, but when Jaime made a joke about telling Robert, and having to show him the way, Alex actually laughed. Properly. ]
Yeah, rather you than me, bud.
[ Alex could imagine it now; how angry Robert would be - most likely blaming Jaime for it - and how he'd huff and puff his way up the damn stairs. He laughed again at the thought, following Jaime up the stairs. ]
If this thing is a Tulpa, there's not much we can do but try and convince Robert to change his train of thought. And figure out where he's been looking at the sigil. Does he have a journal? Or... books he's always reading? Anything like that?
[ It didn't take them long to reach the sixth floor, and whilst the corridor didn't give much reason to think the hotel as fancy, the room Robert was in certainly did. It was large; like it took up a quarter of the top floor on its own. There was a large, king sized bed on one side of the wall, with a TV facing it. A couch sat in a corner, next to the standard desk and chair that hotel rooms had. The room had an en-suite, and when Alex looked in and flicked the light on, saw that it had both an individual bath and shower. ]
Hey - imagine Robert tryin' to get out of that bath.
[ Alex said over his shoulder to Jaime, a smirk on his face. Maybe they were reaching an understanding over their mutual dislike of the Prime Minister. ]
I could fill the thing up with water and get it blessed and then let Robert sit in it all night so he's protected. Then we could just go out and get drunk and not have to worry about him.
You give too much credit assuming Prime Minister Baratheon reads anything. [ It was becoming a bit too easy insulting his boss-- easy enough that Jaime knew that at this rate, he really never would stop. He bit his tongue against saying anything especially incriminating about the thought of him stuck in the bathtub, but the thought of leaving him there to get drunk on wines and spirits... ] And you give too little credit thinking he wouldn't have my head for getting drunk without him.
[ Jaime didn't even get drunk. Of the three Lannister children, he was the only one acquainted with sobriety.
Robert Baratheon truly was a terrible leader, however. A shame, really, since he was a powerful revolutionary in his prime. Funny that it was only when he had the power to make change that he became too lazy to make any of those changes to begin with.
Unlike Alex, Jaime was satisfied taking a seat at the chair by the desk, its body turned so he was facing the rest of the room and the man that rifled through it. To Jaime, this was all standard fare-- there was nothing out of the ordinary he had to take note of-- but he supposed whatever absurd rituals Alex had to do warranted all of this.
Then he frowned, head tilting slightly as he considered where the house sigil might be seen. ] ...he might have newspaper clippings. [ And he had a picture of Lyanna Stark at his desk, and gods knew that Robert couldn't look at her without thinking of how desperately he wanted to kill the Targaryens. ]
Gods, [ because ancient as it was, the Lannisters had more attachments to the Light of the Seven than any version of Christianity ] he might have thousands of things.
Don't tell me I have to look through his belongings for all of them.
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Does he actually know what Alex does, though? No.
Does he believe in what he does? Also no.
He's learned to stop questioning everything Alex does, though, and while he spares the satchel a look when the guy enters the kitchen, Jaime says nothing as he makes his way out the kitchen door towards the car he'd taken with him.
Jaime opens the door to the back for Alex to get into, even if he doesn't want to. The man is, after all, Robert's guest. ]
You're sure we don't need to get anything else?
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The fact that the other man opens the door for him as Alex raising an eyebrow. ]
You're kidding, right?
[ Who the fuck did this guy think Alex was? He was hardly of any importance. Still, he grunts his appreciation and slides into the back of the car. He ignores the seatbelt, and tips the contents of his bag out onto the other two seats in the back of the car and begins to rifle through them. ]
Robert said that the thing that's after him his like a ghost, yeah? And it can move stuff? Sounds like a classic Poltergeist to me but you can never be too sure...
Where are we going, by the way? The hotel?
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Honestly, if not for his marriage to Jaime's sister, he would have never taken the damn job. ]
And yes, we're going to the hotel. [ Which is a considerable drive, really. ] Robert will be checking in tomorrow-- I'm assuming you've already done your work proofing his house for tonight and I don't have to bring you back?
[ Because Jaime really, really doesn't want to drive any more than this tonight. It's less a question of nobility and more the reality that he's a bit prone to half-assing most things. ] We're headed to Oxford. Accommodations have been made for you.
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Oxford. Alex vaguely remembers being told about Oxford a while ago but, like all other useless information, he forgot it fairly quickly. He breathes out and thumbs through a journal, the pages yellowed and worn and the ink fading. ]
Setting things on fire...
[ He spoke to himself, trying to think at the same time as listening to Jaime. ]
The house is fine, don't worry about it. There's salt around every entrance and holy water in Robert's room. I've told him to wear a crucifix just in case it's something religious related.
[ Alex paused. He wonders how far away Oxford is, and if they'd be able to stop for a break. ]
Mind if I smoke?
[ Fuck it - he's asking anyway. ]
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What's that you're looking at? [ He's never seen it before, is his defence for why he's asking. It's not that Alex has never given him reason for doubt or anything, but Jaime doesn't enjoy being faced with new things. Whatever excitement he might have had for the world faded away with the months' long imprisonment in a dark fucking camp.
He's fairly certain Alex has never had to consult any proper readings before, either. But then, it's not like Jaime's tasked to watch him 24/7. ]
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He turns the page of the journal and holds his cigarette between the thumb and forefinger of his left hand as he talks. ]
Journal. From my ... great-grandad, I think. I'm not a books guy, but my whole family were hunters and they documented everything they came across - what they look like, their behaviour patterns and how to get rid of them. Trying to see if there's anything about fire breathing things.
[ Alex talks casually, because this was what he had been around all his life. He doesn't know what it's like on the outside, listening to somebody talk about ghosts and vampires and werewolves and everything in between. He moves to the middle of the back, so he can lean over and shove a book into Jaime's face. He doesn't care if the man is driving. ]
See, there's Dragons but, Dragons haven't existed for at least 700 years. I don't think it's that but it's the only thing I can think of that breathes fire...
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Which quickly turns into a disgruntled noise of irritation when the book is shoved in front of him. ] Alex! [ One hand moves to bring the book down, and as much as he wants to reach all the way to push the young man's head away, Jaime just curls his hand into a fist and thumps it lightly at his own lap before putting it back on the wheel. ]
...Christ. Dragons? [ He's worked hard to sound respectful ever since meeting the guy, but there's something to be said about the risk of crashing this god damn car because of fictional winged lizards. Jaime's tone is the slightest bit disbelieving. ] Why do you have a book about dragons?
Did your family hunt dragons?
[ Of course they didn't. Jaime's just going with it now. ]
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Calm down, Barbara.
[ Another roll of blue eyes, and they're back on the journal again. Hunting dragons? Was Jaime stupid? ]
No you moron, no one's seen one for hundreds of years, but that doesn't mean they didn't exist. It could be a Wendigo, though. Does Robert read or watch a lot of shit about things that breathe fire? Sometimes if you believe in something so much it can just... appear. Out of nowhere.
[ The cigarette was back in his mouth, and Alex smoked it without his hands as he flipped through a couple of other journals. Jesus, everything was a fucking mess, but Alex could feel the excitement building in him as it did when he felt like he was getting close to figuring something out. Hunting was his job - it was his life. ]
It's like that episode of Doctor Who, right? The Tenth Doctor and Rose end up in London during the Olympics and there's that little girl who's got this giant drawing of her dad in her wardrobe and it almost comes to life.
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Still, because he doesn't want it to be explained any further, he goes with: ] Uhuh. [ It's a half-assed answer, but half-assed is probably enough. ]
He's obsessed with the Targaryens, if that makes a difference. [ The Targaryens-- an old, rich family, renowned in the modern age for creating a cult centred around... well, the notion that dragons would be returning to earth, and that a) humans had to be sacrificed to fire to bring them back; and b) there were eggs hidden away somewhere in nature. The Targeryens had been noble, once-- Jaime did his research since joining Robert's flock of bodyguards-- but that had been centuries ago. Supposedly, the last one had died quietly in the ancestral home in the late 2000's.
But Robert is convinced there're still Targaryens out there-- purebloods, not initiates into the family. Apparently he had a girlfriend who ended up a part of the cult and died for it. Honestly, Jaime didn't concern himself with the entire history, but that's because he's very much a live in the moment sort of man.
And he wants to go to sleep instead of live this moment out. ] I doubt Robert Baratheon has the ability to conjure fire out of nowhere. [ He's not supposed to talk ill of the man he works for, but Jaime hates him. Besides, not conjuring fire should be a good thing, right? ] The ability to set something on fire in a drunken blackout, though? Definitely more likely.
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There's an actual laugh from Alex as Jaime makes a joke about setting something on fire and nods his head. ]
Yeah he's not the only one... [ Alex has done a lot of stupid shit when he's been drunk. It's just a shame he wasn't drunk when he agreed to save his father's life in exchange for his soul in 10 years time. ]
You'd be surprised at what people's imagination is like, especially if it's a ... cult thing. That's what the Targaryens were all about, right? If Robert believes that -- and there are other people out there that do -- it could very well come true. Have you seen Robert doing anything unusal lately? Any mentions of Tibetan Spirit Sigils?
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He tries to think about if Robert's ever mentioned anything about Tibetan anything else. Perhaps in his conversations with Ned Stark... ]
Maybe. [ It's not the most reliable answer, but it's what Jaime has. ] I'll ask the others if they've heard of it.
[ It'd be typical Robert if he were the cause of his own downfall, all things aside. ]
So you think Robert's invoked some sort of creature out of his own fear?
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[ And the only thing that Alex can think of, based on what Jaime has told him. But Alex is wrong - and he won't realise how wrong he is until it's too late.
He flicks through the journal and huffs when he gets to the end, picking up another one. Jesus, he should have an index or something. ]
My Dad got rid of one once... I'm sure he wrote it down somewhere but I'm sure as shit not gonna give him a call to find out.
[ Not that Asher Wilson would answer the phone to his only son, anyway. You would think if you sold your soul to save someone, they'd at least answer your calls. Or say thank you.
It's not long until Alex gives up, and sits back to look out of the window. ]
So what's your deal, then? Why are you running after the Prime Minister? You don't seem the type.
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Fortunately, Alex changes the topic, and Jaime snorts because it's a ridiculous thing to hear. ]
Who wouldn't be honoured to serve such a prominent figure to our country? [ Sarcasm drips from every syllable, however, and Jaime shakes his head as he turns a corner and keeps going. ] It pays all right. [ That should suffice.
He doesn't mention that it had been Robert's idea. He doesn't mention that Jaime had once been in one of the Targaryens' chapters, and that had been Robert's wife (his sister)'s idea. He doesn't say that he'd killed the leader of the damn thing himself, that Robert's been keeping this secret ever since Jaime was taken onto his payroll.
But he does lean back when he hits a red light, crinkling his nose slightly at the smell of smoke. ]
I'm ex-army. Most of us end up private bodyguards. It's not that hard to imagine.
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[ Alex doesn't get it, but he supposes it's something to do with being British. Most ex-army in America well... Alex didn't know. He didn't socialise with anybody. ]
If I got asked to protect the President I'd... probably tell them to fuck off.
[ Or he'd pretend that he's trying to protect him, but take him out instead. Who fucking needed a President like that? Alex pulled his phone from his pocket and checked his messages - nothing. ]
If you do something for the money only you can't be enjoying it that much.
[ Hunting certainly didn't pay that much - in fact, this job was the most pay he'd ever gotten for a job. Usually, he got nothing. ]
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Doing the right thing isn't worth the mental trauma that comes with it, that much is certain. ]
I don't mind this job. [ A lie-- he hates it, he hates Robert, and he hates listening to Robert fuck and he hates listening to his sister talk about how much she hates him. He knows. He knows a lot, and he's tired by all of it. ] That's mercy in a world like this.
[ Jaime's gaze shifts, meeting Alex's in the rearview mirror. ] Are you trying to tell me you love [ pause ] "hunting", then?
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Nah, man. [ Alex picks at a fingernail and slumps back, legs apart as he gets comfortable. He looks up, meeting Jaime's eyes. ]
It's all I've known. I grew up with it - went hunting with my folks when I was a kid, just like they did. It's a weird family thing. My cousins do it. We all do.
[ Alex shrugs, bringing his thumb up to his mouth to pull a rogue bit of skin and then suck on it because he'd just made it bleed. ]
Might as well keep goin' with it, 's not like I went to fuckin' College or whatever.
i pwomise i go 2 bed after sending this in Holy CHrist
[ The light changes and Jaime drives again. He could say it's hard to picture doing something because your family does it, but it isn't; for as long as Jaime can remember, he'd been home tutored in more than the basic curriculums, meant to be groomed into the lord of modern finance that Tywin Lannister was. He was supposed to take over the family business as the eldest son and he knows this more than anything.
He knows the disappointment, too, more than anything. ]
If you work for a family thing, I suppose you're just as fucked as me.
[ Schadenfreude's never let him down.
That, and it's crazy to think of generations in the past doing what Alex does, of generations in the future all doing the same thing. A family of police is something else, indeed. ]
Maybe less scarred.
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It's not like we run a fuckin' business, it's just shit that you get involved in. Avenging the world and getting rid of ghostly bastards. You'd be surprised at how much people fuck with the undead. Y'know the amount of houses I've been to and had to sort shit out because people don't know not to play with Ouija boards?
[ God, Alex hated those fucking things. Why did people think it was a good idea to play with things that weren't meant to be played with? Whoever invented that damn board needed to be killed. It really fucking pissed him off. ]
I don't know about less scarred -- [ Alex paused and considered telling Jaime what had happened to him four years ago, and how he only had six years left to live. ] -- but I guess it won't matter in a few years anyway.
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Yeah, it's best not to think about time.
Jaime straightens, tilting his head from side to side. It's only about half an hour left and they'll be at the hotel, and Jaime can leave Alex and go home and fall face first into the floor. ]
What's a Ouija board? [ A rant, he's sure, will pass the time easy. ]
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Maybe. He looks up at Jaime's question and sighs. ]
It's a board with all the letters of the alphabet on, a 'yes' and a 'no' and some other phrases and people - dumbasses use it to try and talk to spirits. Ghosts. Y'know? Anyway, it creates a mess and demons and shit pretend to be loved ones to communicate and if they're not closed properly it just...
[ Alex shakes his head. ]
It's fucked up, man.
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[ Not that Jaime believes in any of this crap, really. But there's little else he fears more than whatever lies ahead of dying; something that powerful and inevitable sounds like it ought to be impossible to change. ]
If it's any consolation, [ and he knows it probably isn't, if Alex and his family is so far gone into the supernatural world and everything in between ] I'm stuck working for a dumbass who can apparently invoke a fire ghost.
[ Or whatever it is Alex called it. ]
And I still will after this haunting business is over. [ Pause. ] I'm just assuming not all your cases are hopeless.
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[ Cheat death. Even if that meant getting someone to do it for you and switch places. Alex didn't even know if his dad was in Hell when he made the deal - he just knew he wanted him back . . . because he wanted to try and have some kind of relationship with him. ]
Last time I tried to help someone cheat death I just got fucked over myself, so...
[ His voice is low, murmuring, and he picks at a loose thread on his shirt as he talks because he doesn't want to look up at Jaime and see what his reaction to that was. ]
Looks like we're both gonna be in Hell forever, then.
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[ The hotels in a university area aren't extravagant, so the building Jaime pulls up in front of isn't especially tall. It's pretty, though, with simple decor and a pleasing colour palette, and Jaime finds a parking space easily, killing the engine and stepping out.
Again, he holds Alex's door open for him. It's more protocol than anything, and once Alex is out it's shut firmly once again. ]
The Prime Minister's accommodations are on the sixth floor. [ The highest one, in a modest place like this. Jaime has the keys already, so they skip the front desk and go straight to the staircase. ]
Be glad you're not the one who has to lead him up towards it.
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He scooped the journals up, shoving them quickly back into his bag because he wanted to be the one to open his damn door, but there Jaime was again - a knight in shining armour, it seemed - door open and closing once Alex was out. Blue eyes looked at the hotel, taking in the details and wondering what their policy was on laying down a shit load of salt around all the windows and doors.
The sixth floor. Didn't seem much of a problem, but when Jaime made a joke about telling Robert, and having to show him the way, Alex actually laughed. Properly. ]
Yeah, rather you than me, bud.
[ Alex could imagine it now; how angry Robert would be - most likely blaming Jaime for it - and how he'd huff and puff his way up the damn stairs. He laughed again at the thought, following Jaime up the stairs. ]
If this thing is a Tulpa, there's not much we can do but try and convince Robert to change his train of thought. And figure out where he's been looking at the sigil. Does he have a journal? Or... books he's always reading? Anything like that?
[ It didn't take them long to reach the sixth floor, and whilst the corridor didn't give much reason to think the hotel as fancy, the room Robert was in certainly did. It was large; like it took up a quarter of the top floor on its own. There was a large, king sized bed on one side of the wall, with a TV facing it. A couch sat in a corner, next to the standard desk and chair that hotel rooms had. The room had an en-suite, and when Alex looked in and flicked the light on, saw that it had both an individual bath and shower. ]
Hey - imagine Robert tryin' to get out of that bath.
[ Alex said over his shoulder to Jaime, a smirk on his face. Maybe they were reaching an understanding over their mutual dislike of the Prime Minister. ]
I could fill the thing up with water and get it blessed and then let Robert sit in it all night so he's protected. Then we could just go out and get drunk and not have to worry about him.
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[ Jaime didn't even get drunk. Of the three Lannister children, he was the only one acquainted with sobriety.
Robert Baratheon truly was a terrible leader, however. A shame, really, since he was a powerful revolutionary in his prime. Funny that it was only when he had the power to make change that he became too lazy to make any of those changes to begin with.
Unlike Alex, Jaime was satisfied taking a seat at the chair by the desk, its body turned so he was facing the rest of the room and the man that rifled through it. To Jaime, this was all standard fare-- there was nothing out of the ordinary he had to take note of-- but he supposed whatever absurd rituals Alex had to do warranted all of this.
Then he frowned, head tilting slightly as he considered where the house sigil might be seen. ] ...he might have newspaper clippings. [ And he had a picture of Lyanna Stark at his desk, and gods knew that Robert couldn't look at her without thinking of how desperately he wanted to kill the Targaryens. ]
Gods, [ because ancient as it was, the Lannisters had more attachments to the Light of the Seven than any version of Christianity ] he might have thousands of things.
Don't tell me I have to look through his belongings for all of them.
[ He will, won't he. ]
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