Ser Jaime Lannister was not looking forward to seeing his sister. Ever since the wedding of Tomen and Margery, Cersei had become increasingly cross with him. Granted, things between he and Cersei had not been at all good for a very long time before that but something about seeing her youngest son married had only made it worse. Jaime had been avoiding her and keeping to his duties as much as possible. Then she sent for him, twice, and he knew he could not ignore her any longer.

Jaime approached her chambers to find two kingsguard outside the door. Even though Cersei was no longer queen, or queen regent, she had somehow manipulated her way into keeping the guards. She could have asked for Lannister household guards and gotten as many as she needed. He bit back his irritation and knocked on the door.

"Enter." Cersei called out from within.

Jaimie went inside the dimly lit room. His sister wasn't alone in the room. A maid knelt at her feet, weeping. Cersei held a riding crop in one hand. Both of them glanced over at him when he entered the room and Jaime could see that the maid had bruises on her arms and face, and a bleeding lower lip. She had blonde hair, hazel eyes, was strikingly pretty, and she was obviously being punished or abused by Cersei for some reason.

"What in seven hells is going on in here?" Jaime said before he could stop himself.

"Leave us." Cersei said firmly to the girl. The girl got up and fled without a word. "I didn't think you'd come." Cersei said, planting a smile on her face.

"Who was that?" He asked, keeping his anger in check about his sister's abominable behavior.

"It doesn't matter now." She said, sashaying up to him and wrapping her arms around him. "It only matters that you're here now, dearest Jaime."

He pushed her gently away. He was too disgusted with her to be interested in her attempts at seduction. "Why were you beating her?" He persisted.

"Come now Jaime, it wasn't anything nearly as severe as a beating." She turned away from him and poured herself a glass of wine.

For a moment he could only stare. Had she always been like this or had she changed? Or maybe he'd changed?

""If you must know, she was Elinor Tyrell, lady in waiting to our new queen. I did try being nice to her first but that didn't serve my needs very well at all." Cersei admitted under his cold stare.

"So you're spying on the queen and her lady wouldn't tell you what you wanted to know?" Jaime asked incredulously. "Aren't you concerned that Elinor will go tell her mistress what you've done?"

"I'm not a total fool Jaime." She turned to him and took a sip of her wine. "You see I explained to her that I am aware of her interest in my son. She danced with him at their wedding and it was entirely inappropriate. Unless Elinor reports every detail of Margary's doings to me, I will have her brought up on formal charges of treason."

"You've lost your mind." Jaime said calmly. Some part of him had always known his sister was like this but she had never shown him this side of herself so openly before. "So did you send for me for a reason?"

"Do I need a reason? Perhaps I simply missed your company." She said sweetly.

"Any other reason?" He quipped.

"Have a drink brother." She poured a cup for him.

"I'm not thirsty." He was not about to let her get him drunk. "If there's nothing else, I have work to do."

"Jaime wait! I have missed you. I truly have. Father is gone, and Joffrey our dear boy… I need you." She pouted.

He hesitated. She took that moment to pounce, wrapping her arms around him, kissing him. He almost gave in until he remembered the riding crop on the floor and the bruised girl she had beaten. Jaime pulled away from her.

"We are finished. I already told you that. It hasn't changed." Jaime left her standing opened mouthed. As he exited the room she came to her senses and he heard her throwing things in a fit of anger.

He really didn't have much work to do. Saying so had merely been an excuse to leave Cersei. He did however wonder about the welfare of the lady, Elinor Tyrell. He headed towards the direction of the new queen's chambers. He wasn't sure if the queen would be there or not but it was very likely that at least some of her handmaids would be there.

More kingsguard waited outside of the door.

"Is the queen here?" Jaime asked one of them.

"No Ser she is not. Her grace has gone to the gardens to take the air with Lady Olenna." The guard replied.

"And what of the lady, Elinor Tyrell? Did she accompany her grace?" Jaime asked realizing it was probably strange for him to be inquiring after a lady.

"She did not. She is in the bedchamber, tending some injury."

"I would like to speak to her." Jaime said.

"Of course, lord commander." The guard moved aside, letting Jaime access the door.

He knocked, then entered slowly. The huge bedchamber seemed empty, He listened for a moment and heard movement to the left where the bath was.

"Lady Elinore?" He called out. He heard a crash. She had dropped something, startled at his entrance. Then he heard her scurry out to the doorway. She had a wet towel in her hands, she was apparently trying to stop the bleeding on her lip and had yet to be successful. Her eyes widened on seeing him. Was that fear? "I'm not here to hurt you. I just came to see that you are alright."

"I...I...thank you ser. I believe I am quite alright now." She said, clearly shaken.

Her lip had resumed bleeding. She was frozen with fright and did nothing to stop the blood from running down her face. Jaime approached her and gently took the towel from her hands, pressing it to her lip. His thumb brushed her cheek as he did so and he could feel her trembling at his touch. "If my sister harms you again, send for me. I will put an end to it."

A few tears slipped out from her big hazel eyes. "Today, was not the first time Ser." She told him.

Jaime tensed with anger. "How many times has she done this?"

"Five." Elinor said, seemingly coming to her senses and taking the towel from his hand.

"Then we should inform queen Margery. It would be safer for you and for her to know the truth of it." Jaime suggested. He couldn't take his eyes off of her lips. She was quite lovely and he couldn't remember ever being so affected by a woman who wasn't Cersei before.

"If we do, she says I will be charged with treason…"

"Only if Margaery tries to punish her for what has been done to you. If everything stays secret then no one will be charged with anything. Unless...you don't trust the queen to keep the secret?" Jaime asked, seeing her downcast expression.

"It isn't that… it's just that…" Elinor clammed up and couldn't go on.

"What is it?"

Elinor shook her head. "It's not safe for me to say anything. I think it would be best for things to remain as they are. I thank you for your concern."

"If that is what you wish." Jaime conceded. Then in uncharacteristic fashion for him, he took her hand and kissed it. "Good day to you my Lady." He said making an exit.

Why was he being so gallant? He wondered as he was leaving. She was a very pretty young woman but he had never cared for impressing women before. Yet it had bothered him more than he could say to see what his sister had done to her. Seeing her tears and standing so close to her had moved him in ways he hadn't been moved before. That's not to say he'd never been attracted to any woman other than Cersei. He definitely had, but he had never wanted another woman as much as he found himself wanted Elinor Tyrell. He wanted to protect her and impress her just as much as he wanted to take her to bed. It was an odd sensation for him and it made him angry to recognize it. Not only was he a kingsguard with vows to uphold, he was also a cripple and a good fifteen years her senior. She would never want him even if he were free to have her.

For several days, Jaime struggled to get thoughts of Elinor Tyrell out of his mind. He found out that she was betrothed to Alyn Ambrose but could find out little else about her beyond that. News of the betrothal should have been enough to expunge her from his thoughts but it wasn't enough. Betrothals weren't really final anyhow. He had been betrothed once himself to Lysa Tully and that wedding never happened. But he knew it was useless to concern himself with the lady's betrothal. He knew it was useless to think of her at all. He felt a bit a of a fool, like some sixteen year old lad pinning over a maid. He was a man with a duty to the kingsguard. He did not need the distraction of a pretty woman.