Shores Of Blackwater Bay, King's Landing, CrownLands
Visenya had kept her promise and had helped Jaime train along with Bronn. Tyrion had paid the sell-sword to help his brother and he did, when the Dragoness was not present; or when she had to leave early.
Considering she was naturally a left-handed person, it became easier for her to use the sword and through the years she had fixed her posture and technique to allow her to maximise her uniqueness.
Now, she was trying to pass it to Jaime although the progress was rather slow.
Swords clashed against one another, Valyrian steel met Valyrian steel as the two of them were sparring in an isolated part of the shores of Blackwater Bay. The sand beneath their feet bent and was kicked away with each step as the lion tried his hardest to keep up.
Since both were using their left hand, their blades were always diagonally from one another; thus both had to make up by protecting their more exposed sides. Visenya, after years of combat and practise, was quick to do that but Jaime's reactions were delayed.
She ducked beneath one of his attacks, spun her body and hit him with the blunt flat part of her blade on his torso. This seemed to annoy him as he quickly turned and tried to strike her down but she was elusive and quick.
She blocked his attack once, twice and by the third time, she had managed to knock his sword out of his hand and point her blade at him.
She was panting, her hair had been pulled into a white ponytail but strands had escaped and fell on her face.
She was dressed in clothing she usually favoured, being a tunic with a vest and simple pants while he had kept his more formal pants, tunic and leather jacket on top; a style similar to his father.
"This is honestly useless. I will never be able to fight with my left hand," he complained as he walked to grab his sword, feeling the blade mocking him.
This was a fine sword, made of rare metal and was meant to be wielded by someone capable of fighting; not a one-handed cripple that could barely wipe his ass properly.
His good-mother lowered and sheathed her blade, watching him walk towards his fallen sword with his head lowered and her gaze softened.
"It is not. Sword handling requires practice, Jaime. Remember when I used to tell you that when you were younger?" she asked him, remembering a younger Jaime losing to Rhaegar and getting demotivated by him.
"I do but what good is practice if there is no improvement?" he asked as he sheathed his sword and sat down on the sand.
"You might not see it but I do. You slowly make progress and there will be more if you do not let it go now," she advised and sat by his side.
Jaime grabbed his water pouch and drank some water, feeling how the sun was still burning above them but it was not that hot to wear a tunic alone. One would question when this winter was supposed to come since clearly it had been delayed.
He passed it to Visenya, who enjoyed some sips of the refreshing water down her throat before she pushed some of her stray strands out of her face. She lowered the pouch and looked ahead at the blue sea.
"Brienne paid me a visit not so long ago," she said, deciding to change the topic as they were taking a break. "She found out about the fate of the Starks and asked me if she could remain as Sansa's protector," she explained, earning a look from him. "I haven't discussed this with your father yet. I am planning after the wedding."
Jaime had heard about it, the so-called Red Wedding as everyone referred to it. Jaime had seen some fucked up shit, especially with Aerys burning people but what happened at the Twins truly disgusted him.
"I have heard about it as well. I presume Father is the evil mastermind behind it, isn't he?" he asked but then he noticed the change of expression on her face, how she averted her attention to the sea again and how she tightened her fingers around the water pouch. "But he wasn't, was he?" he asked again, this time with a clearer image in his mind.
A heavy sigh left her lips. "The massacre was not part of the plan. Only Robb was meant to die but Lord Frey did his own thing," she confessed. "The mistake is on me. I should have been clearer on how to deal with each Stark member, considering who I chose to work with."
Jaime did not say anything at first and she simply waited for him to also attack her like Tyrion did. She would not blame him, especially considering how Catelyn was the reason he was free in the end and had managed to return to him.
Yet to her surprise, he did not comment on it or point a finger. Instead, he brought his good hand and pulled her sideways into a hug, letting him lean against his shoulder and body in a comforting manner.
For a moment her muscles stiffened, a subconscious reaction that she did not expect considering she was not the best at getting physical comfort, let alone been so long since she truly did.
He took notice but she quickly relaxed in his arms right after a moment and closed her eyes, enjoying this unique opportunity. Usually, she was the one offering comfort to them but this time, she did not mind how the roles had changed.
"Life has fucked us up pretty bad, huh?" he joked, earning a smile from her.
"Each one of us was personally fucked, not even as a group," she commented, making him smile as well.
There were times like this, that both wished could remain or come more often. Jaime was always the one child that had taken Joanna's softer nature, one that he often hid behind pride and cockiness as was expected from the son of Tywin.
Few people truly knew that he had a far softer character, one that had been challenged a lot; especially in his latest adventure. The only one that had truly seen this side of him was Visenya; who had a soft spot for him ever since she first met him all those years ago.
There was this unique bond between the two of them, this easiness and understanding that no one else could match. Honesty was a big part between them and never was there judgement or anger directed to one another.
She only had that bond with Trystan, who was her blood-son and it was sort of expected. Those two were the ones she was truly close to, who never looked at her the same way they looked at their father and never judged her.
After a moment of the two of them just enjoying the nice breeze and a chance to be reunited, without worries or peeping eyes, Visenya opened her eyes. "As much as this is enjoyable, we are not here to complain about life," she reminded him. "Come on, training continues."
She pulled away and stood up, offering her hand for him to take. He took it and he managed to get on his feet with her help but he let out a groan of complaint once he was standing.
"Do we really?" he asked, clearly enjoying just being normal and watching the waves rather than being humiliated by his good-mother in training.
"Yes, we do," she answered him. "Instead of trying to match my speed, why don't we try to focus on your strength?" she suggested as an idea came into her mind. "You are stronger than me and you could use that. Although, you could not truly defeat me even back then," she taunted him and smirked.
Sometimes, Jaime was simply in need of some encouragement and motivation but others, all it took was some taunting to get him working.
Yet this time, her taunting seemed to amuse him more and a twinkle of mischief appeared in his green eyes. In a fluid and quick motion, he bent and grabbed her with his good hand before tossing her over his shoulder.
The sudden move caught her off guard and she quickly found herself with her feet in the air, facing his back. "Jaime," she called him out but could not help but chuckle at the sneaky move. "Put me down," she said, trying to sound serious but failing.
He smirked and chuckled in amusement, taking a few steps forward. She was not that heavy and he was still quite strong despite his imprisonment. He had also been working to keep his body in good shape, which allowed him to pull such stunts for a short time.
"Hmm. I am afraid I will have to deny you this request, good-mother," he chuckled and after a few more steps he came to a halt.
He then gently lowered her to the ground and looked at her, seeing that I am amused but you are also screwed expression on her face. "I cannot believe I am saying this but you are an ass, Jaime Lannister," she said but her mood had long changed.
Jaime did not care for the characterization because right now, he saw her small smile returning. He had taken notice of how tired she looked lately, how exhausted her eyes seemed to be and her usual smile or smirk was long gone.
He understood now that the Red Wedding and this stupid war and even his imprisonment had taken a toll on her. She was not the bold and young woman she used to be; she had her family all around her and her life was easier.
She had lost a lot, she had suffered through even more and he barely knew. She always kept it hidden, bottled up within her to the point she was about to break down and yet never did. Seeing her with that smile back, hearing her chuckle and knowing that he managed to do that... made him feel proud.
All those years she had been by his side as much as she could, she had been the one to comfort him and make him smile. It felt good to return the action even if it was once because he knew she truly deserved it but simply never received it; because the world was just that cruel to her.
Visenya & Tywin's Chambers, Red Keep - King's Landing, Crownlands
The day of the wedding between Joffrey and Margaery had arrived faster than the couple anticipated. All the preparations had been finished, money had been spent and the biggest wedding of the current lifetime was about to take place.
It would be expensive, it would be big and it would be an event Maesters would write and talk about in the future. The union of a Stag and a Rose would be the first time a Tyrell would truly have the claims on the Throne.
In their chambers, the couple had almost finished getting ready. As per usual, they had to dress for the occasion; being far greater than the marriage between Joffrey and Sansa.
Tywin had one of his more decorated and formal black jackets, dressing himself as per usual in full black. Visenya never truly understood why but did not try to change it because that shade did make him look formidable and serious.
She would admire him in that posed and powerful outfit, only magnified by his dominant and confident stance; accompanied by his sharp green orbs with specks of gold within them. Despite the years passing, he was still looking younger than many would think and so did she.
Her dress for the day, as per usual, was red but its shade was lighter than the dark one she usually went for. It was strapless with the bodice being short and tight around her chest and waist, while the skirt started higher than usual; truly bringing out her height in the best way.
There was an extra material that was worn like a jacket or draped like a cloak with long hanging sleeves. The material was of the same red shade but just a tone darker, covering her shoulders while the long sleeves reached the back of her knees but had an opening for her hands to easily move without being restrained.
On top of the bodice of the dress, there was a golden piece, similar to a corset or a chest plate but was thinner and had a more royal and abstract design on it. It stopped right above her hips and had a second red material at the sides that fell on top of her skirt, with golden decorations at the edges but also on it.
She had a golden necklace that went tightly around her neck like a collar and had an extra piece hanging by the middle in the shape of an arrowhead with a single red jewel in the middle of it. Her hair had been curled and braided into a crown around her head with similar golden jewellery braided as part of the hairstyle.
Visenya stood in front of the mirror, admiring the latest piece of art made by Doroh. This could be perhaps one of her favourite dresses, the design reminding her of her wedding dress that had a similar golden decoration to mimic the breastplate of armour.
Despite the big event of the day and the stormy chaos of thoughts in her mind, the mighty Dragoness stood strong. The dress made her unique eyes and beauty stand out while her face hid every thought, every question and every worry she had.
She looked like true royalty and Tywin did spend most of his time in silence, observing her as her handmaid finished with her hair. He had a goblet in one hand and he was leaning on the desk, his green eyes not once leaving the form of his wife.
Whether in armour or dresses, the Old Lion could see the beauty she possessed and retained despite the passing years. He could never get tired of it; never grow bored of watching her showing the might, richness and power of her house. She was a true lion born into a family of dragons.
He did not speak a word until the handmaiden was done and they could be left alone. Leaving his goblet on the desk, he confidently marched towards her as she inspected the overall work in front of the mirror.
Tywin had a deep respect for her nature and her maturity. She was a woman, who enjoyed the battle rush and combat but at the same time knew the importance of dressing according to her status. She admired and respected herself and the rules when she wore a dress, without a complaint even when that dress or hairstyle could be uncomfortable for her.
It was hard to ever find a woman capable of balancing both, especially as they grew older. They would always lean towards one or another but not her, not his wife. She would retain this balance and be capable of attending a royal wedding one moment and the next to lead her soldiers by riding in the front lines.
He stopped behind her as he took notice of the golden lion edging on the draped cloak-styled material covering her shoulders and back, pride being felt within his chest but also shining in his emerald eyes.
"What do you think?" Visenya asked, taking notice of him through the mirror.
Tywin started walking again; doing a full circle around her while his eyes inspected every single detail. A prideful smirk appeared on his lips as he came to a halt in front of her.
"A very fitting dress for such an occasion," he commented and she offered a gentle smile, head craned faintly up to look at him.
"I am glad you approve because it is not a comfortable dress to wear," she commented, a small joke being thrown by her and mostly amusing herself.
His gaze seemed to soften just a tad bit, something one would not notice unless they had spent every day looking into his eyes and had memorized each of his expressions. She was the one that had done that and she felt her heart skipping a beat upon seeing that rare expression.
"You will be just fine, as always," he commented but the hint of amusement was audible in his voice. "I have seen you surviving far worse dresses over the course of years," he reminded her.
Her gaze softened, and a small chuckle in the form of a scoff was heard from her as she remembered some of her more...hard-core dresses that she had occasionally worn when her brother was still King.
"I have survived combat. It would be a shame if I did not survive a few pieces of fabric sewed together," she commented and placed her hand on his cheek.
There was always this contrast between them, whether from the colours of their clothing, their body temperature or their characters. Yet, as she cupped his cheek and he tilted his head just an inch to press it against her warm palm, she could see that they might be different but also complementary of one another.
This balance between them was often hidden behind closed doors, for the world was too dangerous for them if they dared to show it. It was a hard pill to swallow, a bitter truth that she had come to accept and make a part of her life.
She did, though, memorize and enjoy every second of moments like those. When it was just the two of them there were small hints of his personality changing, of small details that only she was blessed to witness and know the truth behind the famous Tywin Lannister, the Lion of Casterly Rock.
He placed his hand upon hers and gently lowered it before moving it, so she could wrap it around his elbow and upper arm. "It is time. Shall we?" he asked, although the answer was clear.
She nodded her head, her soft smile being replaced by a prideful smirk as her unique eyes seemed to glow with confidence and certainty. "Let us," she answered him and the two of them left their chambers and headed down the corridor.