Sitting in the tent, she could not help but be sickened at the surrounding colours. Everything was plastered with Lannister red. A deep red. Like blood. Once she had loved to dress in that colour, matching so well with her complexion, but now it only reminded her of all she had lost.
White and grey and blue were her colours now. Sometimes green, for her eyes.
"Why are you here?" Jaime demanded, his eyes just as suspicious as they had been the last time they spoke, when he was her king's prisoner
"To talk." She replied, her eyes roaming over him, stopping on his golden hand, "I heard, but I didn't know if there was truth in it." She said, "I'm sorry. Who did it?"
"One of Bolton's men."
"Roose Bolton's dead, his son too." She revealed, "If that's any consolation."
"You fight for Stannis now?" Jaime asked, "I thought Robb chose not to declare for him."
"Robb is dead, and Stannis helped give the North back to my son." She explained, "I did what I had to."
It was a valid enough answer, that they both knew. They were no strangers to doing what was necessary.
"I think I miss your beard," she commented, "I never much liked beards until Robb."
"You're a true Northerner now."
He was right, in so many ways. The North was where she belonged now, with her son. And her son was the reason behind all of her actions.
"Why did you kiss me?" Layla asked, her eyes wide as they gazed up at him, "Back in King's Landing."
Jaime just stared back at her, seemingly unable to give her an answer, and she doubted if he even had one. Maybe there was no reason for the kiss other than his sudden urge of desire for her.
"Do you still love her?"
A frown grew on his face, as he looked away from her, skirting back to sit down in his bed.
"I don't think so." He admitted, "She wasn't faithful."
"You mean aside from the fact she was married?" Layla asked, as she took a seat beside him, causing him to glare up at her, "Sorry, wrong time for humor." She said, but gave him a sly smile anyway,
"I am sorry, though," she said, placing a hand on his cheek, stroking his skin with thumb, "You're a good man, Jaime Lannister, even if no one else believes it."
This would be easier if she was blonde, but maybe her eyes were the right shade of green.
Slowly, she started to lean closer to him, moving her hand into his hair, pressing her chest against his shoulder. Tilting her head down, she pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. But when she went to move away he grabbed a hold of her arm, pulling her back to him, capturing her lips with his.
Climbing on to his lap, she cupped his face in her hands, grinding against him. Jaime let out a moan, but grabbed her chin to push her away.
"I am a Kingsguard," he said, "I have oaths."
"Technically they never said anything about fucking women," she pointed out, "Do you want to fuck me?"
But Jaime did not answer, simply pulling her back down towards him. Grinning triumphantly, she paused from the kiss only to pull at the laces of her dress, stepping away to let the material fall from her. Once she had pulled her shift over her head, she stood bare before him.
"I can see what Robb liked about you," Jaime said, but she ignored him, moving to pull at the laces of his breeches
"Don't talk about Robb." She warned, as she helped him pull his shirt over his head, then removed his breeches
It seemed that she was moving much to fast for Jaime's liking, as he slowed down their kiss, pulling her back down to him but not moving to enter her. His lips moved to her neck, trailing hot kisses down her chest. Though she was glad he did not make to mark her. It would be difficult to explain away those bruises.
And she whispered his name when his fingers slipped inside her, digging her nails into his shoulder as she moaned.
"Fuck me," she whispered in his ear, "Now."
Dutifully, he pulled her further down, thrusting upwards inside of her. She grinned against him, meeting each of his thrusts. It did not matter to her if he was imagining it was Cersei he was inside, she was adept herself in removing herself from such situations. But she found she did not have to pretend she was elsewhere.
It did not take long before he spent himself inside of her, and she made a mental note to take moon tea as soon as possible. For it would be even harder to explain away a child, especially a blonde child. And she didn't think she really wanted to have Jaime Lannister's child, nor would it be of any advantage.
Climbing off of him, she laid down on the bed, wrapping her legs around his waist to pull him closer.
"I'm beginning to think you were raised in the pleasure houses of Lys," Jaime teased, "I never did believe you when you said you were Braavosi. So, where are you from?"
"I'm from nowhere."
She had not really answered his question, but Jaime did not press for an explanation. It seemed he was at peace with the abundance of secrets between them. Only because he didn't know the half of them, she reminded herself.
The solemn look on her face turned to a smirk, and he frowned at her.
"What's so funny?"
"Nothing," she muttered, shaking her head, "I just thought, I'm glad you didn't have a floppy fish." She said, only to have him frown further, "There's a song about Edmure's inability to perform. He used to hate it when I teased him about it."
"Well, he must have overcome that particular issue," Jaime said, "Considering he managed to impregnate his wife in one go."
"What?" She asked, looking up at him,
"You didn't know." Jaime muttered, moving to lay some beside her, "I'm sorry."
"It's okay, I'm happy for him." Layla replied, "He'll make a good father. What he lacks in sense he makes up for in being a good person. Not too many of those around." She said, "I'm glad you didn't kill him."
"Me too." Jaime said, "Him and his family will be safe at Casterly Rock."
"Thank you."
Yes, she thought, thank you for making this easy.
They fucked a few more times that night, before Jaime fell asleep with his arm wrapped around her. But he would wake to an empty bed. For she had slinked out of the tent, to find her men waiting and ride for Casterly Rock, hoping that they reached there in time.