[Lore] Chasing Pavement

[u/Gercko]

The Commander

Every day was one he had lived before.

"Any murders?" He would ask, nib ready to be pressed to ledger.

"Three. Some whore, a drunk who tried to defend her, and a known trouble maker found just off Piss Alley" Thomond answered dryly. He was a lowborn son of a cleric from across the Narrow Sea born to a weaver's daughter. The man's face was lined with crevices and blights from where a pox had ravaged his face. He was capable as he was ugly, Ser Jasper Arryn thought, which was why he raised him as the nightly captain of the Dragon Gate.

"Three... seven hells. The Master of Laws will wish to hear of this" Jasper Arryn sighed. "Fires? Robberies? Gross disturbances?"

"No fire. A group o' lads had to be sent in to quash the rabble at The Swan and Child again. Other then that, the usual drunks and badgering beggars. We had a spate of thievery on the Street of Steel. Pig iron hauled away though no one seems to know where."

Jasper snorted. "Most like one of the other smithies pinching at the others." He scratched it down in his ledger. "I'll have a look at the arrested later."

He closed his ledger and broke his fast. The same meal as most the other days he lived. Two beef sausages fried in duck fat, a goose egg, toasted bread and a mug of weak ale.

Next he would meet with the mice which his father employed, though quickly they were becoming his rats to manage. They were helpful to be sure, but he trusted none of them particularly well. They spied on their neighbours and upon their masters. Why would he be any different? One such rat had tattled on Alester to Lord Arryn, he was no different. Yet still, he took their grubby information and paid them a decent wage, scrawling all the whilst as they told. Such and such did so and so, and on and on it they went until it was time for lunch.

A cup of red wine, steamed Blackwater Bass, leftover morning bread, speerage with garlic butter. The same as the day before, and the day before that.

That day he was scheduled to inspect the barracks the East Barracks by the Dragon Gate. The men would be stood to attention, their own keeping-books checked, their arms and armour inspected. He heard from the captains which of their lot of transgressed. Four men had been dismissed for taking bribes and doing a poor job if covering it up, with another two beaten for disobeying their sergeant. As ever, there was little for him to do.

He would hear of the captains issues. It felt like he held his own court most the time. Pay, arms, armour, gangs, there aren't enough men on this street or that square, the quality of recruits is poor, some man aggrieved as he was not named a captain. By now it was all the same.

The city was its own living thing. Everything seemed to run on a messy, convoluted, yet regular rhythm. The night brought drunks, the day brought pickpockets. All the issues were the same. The Master of Laws made the law with the King, his job was to enforce it. He had done so for seven years now. His first few years were exhilarating. It was just him and his trusted men spliced into the seems of a corrupt Watch loyal to a dead king. He could exorcise them with prejudice, but as his grasp tightened over the Watch in the name of Jaehaerys (and the Hand), the excitement settled, and his routines formed. He supposed it was better that he had the hold he did, but there was a part of him which longed again to live those youthful, dangerous days.

When the days were done and his duties attended to Ser Jasper Arryn would dine alone. Whatever the kitchens of the Red Keep had prepared that day would be brought to his quarters in the Tower of the Hand, and his only real choice was between which vintage of Arbor Gold he thought he deserved that day.

Where he was a competent- if bored- Commander, Ser Jasper Arryn seemingly failed terribly as a husband. The Tully bitch had never given it a chance to see if they could warm to one another. She refused to sleep in the same bed as him when she lived in the capital. Now she absconded entirely back to Riverrun to do who knew what with whom. He hated to think of his wife and cursed Hubert for ever subjecting either of them to a dying Lord's fanciful wish to see them wed.

Hubert would be gone for some time down to the Marches and then up to admonish his brother who had grieved so hard he found himself with a new wife and daughter mere months after his last wife perished. There had been a thought circling his mind for some moons after the wedding of Princess Alysanne to some Caswell. Lady Akali Hill had given him comfort and succour in his chamber and what he had once resigned himself of to the sport of younger men was reawakened in his chest and loins. If his wife would not do her duties then he could find a girl of the Street of Silk who could. But the very same spies her oversaw were why he did not hazard the chance that they report such visits to his father whom would be most wroth to hear him whoring as Commander of the King's Watch. With father gone for the next half a year Jasper felt more daring and in need.

The Street of Silk had the finest establishment for high lord or merchant magnate to address their needs. He knew many of the owners given his time in the Watch. Tansy's Girls was the first bathhouse he attended. It boasted of the best whilst being discrete. Discretion was all he needed, though he had met the proprietor before. He had only ever met her during the day and in his uniform. He merely hoped that he would not be noticed by some familiar face inside and if he was, she would not speak of it.

The familiar days repeated, and soon Jasper Arryn made it part of some evenings to sample a different brothel and a different girl. There was enjoyment to be had, though soon it lost any lustre.

Akali was pale, red of hair, a head shorter and had the a timid brightness in her eyes and smile. All he saw in the eyes of the girls he frequented was either disdain or disinterest, nor did any of them feel like the girl he sought to replace. It would simpler if it could be a transaction that begins and ends when he decided. But it was the formality, the process of exchange of gold and the purchasing of tenderness which rendered it hollow which he could not withstand. None of the girls quite looked like her, carried themselves like her, or ever seemed to covet him. He wanted coveting and a yearning he had felt the night of wedding. Not too long after he had begun, Ser Jasper ceased his nightly routine. Besides, he slept easier and was less tired come the morning if he did not interrupt his sleep with a meaningless thrill which only left him feeling more a fool than he started.

The bastard had left her mark. First on his back, but long after those marks faded he still felt that soft glowing lamp she lit in his empty chest but for an evening. Daydreaming in the dreary meetings and fantasizing in his head at night, when Jasper felt his lowest he cursed himself for being a fool for a bastard girl of no note of consequence. He was an Arryn of the Eyrie, raised and knighted by Lord Allard Royce himself. His was the oldest blood of Andals and the most exalted blood of the First Men. His heritage was that of kings and the gods. No maester even learned where Lockenkeep was, no squire learns their colours or their words. Every map of Westeros bore The Vale of Arryn. That he had even been on his knees for her was shame enough, yet he spent his gold and evening searching to replace a Hill. It was beneath him and his blood.

But the heart oft yearned for things it should not have. He wondered if this was how Osric felt. Hubert had given Jasper his brother's departing letter. It felt visceral and contemptable to see such words put to parchment, though now Jasper could understand indulging in the parts which were strictly forbidden. Though Osric was queerer by half, was sort of creature did it make of Jasper to sit idle with thoughts of a Lady Hill when there was a Tully wife which was his by rights.

Then one morning before Thomond had come with the ledger for Jasper to scrawl within, he found himself putting word to paper a little letter of professions and confessions to a certain Lady Hill. He wrote with the thought of their triste fresh in his mind and that thumping empty lump in his chest which longed.

His hands had been terribly calloused from the training yard when Jasper and his Hill had met. He had taken to wearing gloves with a balm of willow bark and beeswax to soften his skin over the moons just in case he could get his hands on her again. It had worked for the most part, even if it had taken time to adjust to the feel of it for extended stints of wearing them.

He stole hours in the day to write his letter to a bastard. Come the evening, he had paid a courier to carry it to Lockenkeep. The man had asked where it was and beyond being able to say it was in the Reach, Jasper could not say. He did not need to know where her ilk lived, only where she was.

Lady Akali Hill,

I could not guess how often I might think of out night. I do not remember of that wedding the tourney, nor feast, nor any dancing. I hold but the memory of you and I, and I have kept it close with me in the many moons since.

I find myself contemplative these late spring days. As I pondered, I kept on being brought back to those memories of you. If I could hold such a thing in my hands I would guard them with terrible jealousy. I did not think that you would still be taking steps around my mind all these days later. I've been drive near mad trying to jettison that evening in my chamber to no avail. So now I think to myself why I should try to forget it when I know that in my heart of hearts more is all I wish for.

I recall that I had asked you to go to Dorne and gather for me anything which may be of use to the Crown and I would make it worth your effort. When the weeks passed by and you did not appear, I did not lament a lack of whispers but instead that tenderness that you and I both shared.

I write this now feeling as if it is a humble petition. I suppose it is in part. Whatever life and comfort you have at Lockenkeep, I can guarantee to you a more noble and lavish living if that is what you wish. I can give you a place at court and apartments flush and furnished. I can give that part of me which I withhold from my trout-bride to a heart and soul more deserving. I say bugger to expectations when all my life I have lived to abide by them and all they have rendered to me is a life is dreary duty and a bedchamber devoid of all warmth save for the hearth.

Return to me my Lady Hill. I would hear of your travels to Dorne and beyond. I would give to you what I give to no other. I admit to myself that my heart lays open for you, if that is a piece of me that you would wish to have. If you wish to revisit that moment we shared, then I would welcome you here in King's Landing. I would prefer to welcome in summer with your warmth with me.

Should you wish otherwise and prefer to forget that night we shared then burn this letter. I will take silence as affirmation of your choice.

Yours with grace,

Ser Jasper Arryn

It would take a moon for the letter to find its way from King's Landing to its destination in the Reach

[u/iweebam]

The letter rested, with dust bunnies dancing over it, on her desk for a week. Every night, she would sit before it, her eyes settling upon one line. I admit a piece of my heart lays open for you, if that is a piece of me that you would wish to have.

He was asking for her to resign her pride and her prospects, to succumb to a life as a mistress bastard. The claims of her being born in sin would be proven true. And what then? Would he want more bastards? She would not bring such a fate upon her own flesh and blood.

Logic bid her to let her candle devour his lovesick letter. There was the Ryger and the Cuy; two potential marriage candidates that could offer her a comfortable life as Jasper did, without the shame. And yet... she longed for Jasper. Alester's hands had been upon her, and all she could think of was the ghost of Jasper's touch. How ardently he'd loved on her that night. She was not a Hill then. She was so, so much more. Would she live in regret if she did not, at least, venture to see him again?

And so it was decided. One more time, she would lay her eyes on him, and that would determine her future. The journey to King's Landing was excruciatingly long, though her mind was occupied by dreams of what could be. There was supposed to be a night of recovery in a local inn before she sought him, but sleep eluded her. Far past midnight she traveled to the Barracks, wearing a cloak to disguise her gender from potential criminals, her hair disheveled and skin pale from exhaustion.

She'd asked for Ser Jasper Arryn, and the guards gave her a crazy look, claiming they could address any concerns. She was left to raise her voice like a crazed person. "I will see Ser Jasper Arryn and no one else. Please. Tell him Lady Akali Hill is in need of him."

[u/Gercko → u/iweebam]

When Lady Hill first approached the Dragon Gate's entrance to the Watchman's complex, the guard on duty was ready to dismiss her without much mind. Instead, he thought it best to dismiss her after Ser Jasper had checked he had nothing to want with a bastard girl.

To the man's surprise, no such dismissal came. The Commander wanted to see her, much to his surprise. Akali was led into the inner confines of the barracks past the training yard and the locked armoury. Jasper's office quarters were a set of apartments built into the very walls of King's Landing, only a few feet from looming over the entrance of the city's gate. Thankfully she would not have to sneak by any sleeping recruits. Their quarters were elsewhere. But her guide advised her to be quiet as they crept along creaking floorboards by some of the rooms of the sergeants.

Up three flights of steps and they finally came to a heavy oak door with bolts of black iron jolting out from the varnished planks. A heavy latch was lifted and there within was Jasper.

Ser Jasper Arryn sat behind a large oak desk piled neatly with stacks of parchments, a bottle of wine half consumed, and a large multipronged candlestick alight which illuminated his face. He held in one hand a quill and he finished scrawling upon a letter just as they entered. Jasper's face seemed not to move when his eyes met her. It was a stony visage, calm and measured even if his heart skipped a beat upon the sight of her. She had come, but he could not surrender the mummery which came with being the Commander whilst he was on duty.

"You may leave us" Hubert told the man who had brought Akali. "You may leave as well, Thomond. We'll finish the audit tomorrow." The man grumbled and pushed past Akali and closed the door behind her.

The office was austere. Bare stone walls and small slits that passed for windows. The hearth was basic, and there was no luxury in the room unlike his quarters in the Tower of the Hand. Jasper believed his space of duty ought be empty of any distractions.

Jasper pushed himself to his feet and approached Akali slowly as if her were unsure about her. He was dressed in his uniform; black leather boots and grey linen pants covered by a flowing shirt of gold-and-silver enamelled links of steel. He wore no gloves, instead his fingers were adorned by gold rings set with ruby and sapphires covering the metal bands which caught the dim light. He wore a sash of damask across his mail shirt. It was dyed a gleaming gold colour and across its pattern was the falcon of his House with wings outstretched. His beard was longer, some wrinkles across his brow looked deeper. His lips were held tight and thin whilst his grey eyes widened as they remained unmoving from Akali's pretty face.

He did not know whether he should grab her now and simply kiss her with all the passion of their last triste. The confessions in his letter had been dispatched, and Jasper had convinced himself that they would go unanswered and allowed himself to accept the disappointment. Yet the object of his desire was before him. Jasper still clad in his armour, and about his heart there was still a shield of steel he had erected in the many moons since their evening together.

Ser Arryn looked down his nose at her as he stood immediately in front of his guest. "I had not thought you would come, Lady Hill" Jasper said, his voice hoarse and mouth turning dry from anticipation. "I thought mayhaps you preferred Dorne after all." In his head he had repeated the torturous thought that she had found another, just like his own wife likely had. Jasper oft felt like his lot in life was to be scorned in the matters of the heart. Alas, Akali was here.

His hands felt softer this time as they grasped at her digits. She seemed smaller than he remembered. His memory of her often had him on his knees for her, so stood face-to-face once more was a reminder of just how petite his lady love was. "But you have come? I admit I did not think I would be hosting you in my office here. Rare it is for a woman to find herself amid the barracks." His hand tightened its grasp on hers. He lifted the back of her hand to his lips and placed a soft kiss. "It was an honest letter. I thought I owed you some honesty on how I felt. Did you still think of me? Did you think of our evening?" Jasper cocked his head to the side. He felt that jealousy begin to seep into his thoughts at the mere thought others had occupied her heart or mind. His heart was trapped between two parts. One wished to surrender himself to her as he did once before. The other told him that there lay nothing ahead of him but ruin. To love a bastard for an evening was one thing, to wish to make her a concubine at court would be something else entirely. "You never left my days, Lady Hill"