ARRIVALS, MEETINGS AND NIGHT TIME ENCOUNTER

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Jaime stood alongside his uncles and his brother, Jon as usual to his right side, they waited as the procession entered, the kingsguard out front, Ser Barristan leading the way followed by the king and two more of his former brothers. The king looked uncomfortable on his horse and it made Jaime smirk, this fool spent years telling people if he'd have face Arthur he'd have beaten him just like his friend Ned did and yet could barely sit his horse steady.

He grimaced when the wheelhouse came into view, she'd be inside he thought and he knew that things would be uncomfortable for the duration of the tourney before he could let his thoughts dwell he noticed Jon Arryn among the retinue which surprised him, although the Lord was a stickler for tradition and showing respect. Turning to those nearest to him he dropped to one knee as the others did the same.

"Casterly Rock is yours, your grace."

"Rise Ki,,, Lord Jaime."

"Thank you, your grace."

"Ah Gerion it's good to see you my friend." the king jovially said moving to his uncle.

"You to your Grace." his uncle said with a bow.

"It should be an epic tourney don't ya think your grace."

"Aye, I do Gerion."

"Lord Kevan."

"Your Grace."

"And you must be Tyrion," the king said moving down to his brother."

"I am your grace."

"Good Good."

Jaime watched as the wheelhouse door opened, his sister exiting holding onto the hand of her son, Joffrey was every image his mother's boy, his blond hair and green eyes reminded him of Tyrek his nephew, the Lannister gene obviously strong, he swallowed as she made her way over to him.

"My queen," he said with an over-exaggerated bow.

"Lord Jaime," she replied a devious smirk appearing on her face as her eyes practically devoured him.

He noticed her look to his right and see Jon, the look quickly changing from predatory to something like disgust, he battled down his instincts and smiled forcing her to look back at him, her eyes glimmering in delight.

"My queen." his uncle Kevan said his bow as exaggerated as Jaime's was but seemingly more sincere.

"Uncle, it's good to see you again."

"You to my queen." the toady voice of his uncle grated on him.

"Your Grace" Gerion's voice was dripping with false courtesy, he and Cersei had never got on, his humorous ways and lack of seriousness never sat well with his twin.

"Uncle."

Finally, she looked to Tyrion, the look she gave him made the one she'd given Jon earlier seem almost welcoming, disgust, contempt, even downright hatred was on her face before she had a chance to say anything though Jaime decided to say hello to his nephew.

"Greetings, your grace."

"Uncle," the small boy said without any sense of emotion whatsoever.

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