Chapter 44

In the prison tent at the Royal Army Camp,
The Neck
Later that night...

“Ashlyh Waters, you said? Yes, I’m familiar with her ... intimately. I took her to bed, as did Cersei, in fact. But then the Mountain took her from us and deserted us, so that was that. Sweet girl, that wench. I hope that she is rewarded for helping bring him into captivity, along with her husband, you said? I had no idea that she’d gotten married, but as I said, we lost touch once the Mountain abducted her and fled the field like a craven,” Ser Jaime Lannister, the Kingslayer, told his brother, Tyrion Lannister, the Hand of the King and Queen.

“For the record, I’m rooting for you to become Lord Commander should anything, Gods forbid, happen to Eddison Tollett. You’d make an excellent Lord Commander, and should Mole’s Town ever get rebuilt, well, you know ... you could do a fair bit of wenching despite your supposed celibacy. The Night’s Watch could use a man like you, far better than it could have used me if our deal with Father had held and I had taken the black,” Tyrion observed aloud.

“The trouble with that is that I’ve already sired three bastards, by my own sister to boot ... and to sire more on top of those three with Mole’s Town whores ... It’s not the most comforting thought, that my legacy stops with a tyrant, a weakling, and a poisoner’s victim. Did you know ... Myrcella knew that I was her real father ... she already knew! She told me so just minutes before she died, and also that she was glad that I was her true father ... it was a very touching moment, just before Ellaria Sand’s poison took hold of her and killed her!” Jaime ranted now.

“Yes, that is the one death that I regret the most. She would have been a great queen, I believe. Remember what they said about the Targaryens? ‘When a Targaryen is born, the gods flip a coin.’ Well, with three children, it’s better luck than you deserve that at least one of them was suited to ruling ... though with fitting perversity, the gods made that one a girl. I don’t regret that someone else killed Joffrey.

“I do regret that Tommen fell to his death, mostly for his own sake ... he was too weak to rule, though. I regret far more that Myrcella was never a queen, let alone the queen. She would have made a fine one. I don’t regret killing Father, though. The man deserved to die, a hundredfold, for so many lawless acts that he sanctioned himself. Still, he was my father and I wish that he was the sort of father that one doesn’t have to kill in the privy to save his own skin,” Tyrion grew a bit darker in his mood just then, though that was eased by some good mulled wine.

“So, even I, the wicked Kingslayer, fucker of sisters, breaker of boy legs, damn fool who nearly got himself burned to a crisp by a dragon, and former captive of Robb Stark, now captive of you lot, and killer of my own twin, am still a better father than ours. There’s a terrible thought for you! Tell me, will Brienne of Tarth be there at Winterfell as we go there en route to the Wall?” Jaime abruptly changed topics.