A/N: So I've discovered the secret of line breaks and now I am doing so with joyous glee. I have reposted the first three chapters plus TWO NEW CHAPTERS my lord.

Music leaked from the studio, it positively bubbled from the cracks in the walls and seeped under the doors. A mournful violin sung out, the notes sailing through the building with a slow grace, like honey spreading across a smooth surface.

It was cut off.

"Shit!" the exclamation was female and distinctly angry, followed by an amused masculine drawl.

"Shall we start again, or shall we call it a day?"

"No, again. Not from the beginning though, can we go from bar 42?"

A long sigh. "Of course."

The music resumed, the violin cascading over the sultry tones of the piano with a delicate edge. The violin faltered, the piano continued. The piano paused, the violin picked up. There was some shouting.

A door was flung open. In the doorway stood a woman, tall and blonde with shimmering green eyes and a mark on her neck that was either a severe hickey, or a sign that she had been playing the violin for too many hours straight.

"Just leave it, Jaime!" She announced to her accompanist, striding down the hall with purposeful steps in her battle armour of designer jeans and spike heeled shoes.

Cersei was trying not to let her anger get the best of her, she really was. She opened the doors to the building and took a few hesitant breathes of the outside air into her lungs.

It was dark outside, later than she realised. The lit up 'Kings Landing Concert Hall' was already flashing gaudily above the entrance, and she could see that the receptionists had swapped over from the day worker to the night worker.

She checked her phone, scowling at the amount of messages and reminding herself she still needed to find a new assistant. Her last one was fired after her Father had dubbed him inappropriate, but what that really meant was that he had found out that she had slept with him.

Lancel was a handsome guy, tall and thin with blonde hair and green eyes like hers. Jaime had joked that the only person Cersei would be happy fucking was herself, and then made some grotesque incest joke that had made her glare at him.

"A girl, this time." Her father had muttered, and she couldn't deny him anything after he had got her the job here. She was the in-house violinist at Kings Landing. She had rave reviews and her own dressing room. She was in demand, damn it.

"Yes father." She had replied obediently, thinking to herself that she might fuck the female assistant just to aggravate him and prove that she was still in control of her own decisions, and if she wanted to have sex with her assistant then she would. First came the little matter of finding an assistant though…

She put the thought out of her head for the time being and made her way to the parking lot, checking out her car and throwing her phone into the back seat. Resolving that her assistant should be the one to deal with her message bank, she pulled out onto the street and begun the drive home.

oOo

The butter hit the pan and sizzled loudly before immediately turning brown.

"No, no, no!" Sansa said under her breath, switching off the gas and scowling at the too-hot pan, throwing it towards the sink and folding her arms.

"What was that?" her brother's hesitant voice from the lounge made her anger seep out of her posture for the moment.

"Just cooking dinner, Robb." She replied

A derisive snort. "Sounds like you're jousting in there."

"Pan's too hot…" she trailed off as she stared at the sink, wondering how she had been reduced to making dinner for her brother and his girlfriend. She made herself remember being fired from her job as Joffrey Baratheon's personal assistant, the way he had ruined her chances of getting any other position in this town, the lack of salary forcing her out of her home and into her brother's, the way she promised to pull her weight around the apartment…

Reluctantly, she rinsed out the pan and put it back on the element.

Her brother appeared in the doorway not too long afterwards, his hair tousled and track pants riding low on his hips.

"Jaime's coming over tonight, want me to just get him to bring take out?" Robb asked

Sansa pouted, "Might be safer." She muttered, thinking mournfully of her mother's cooking at home, or the café around the corner from her old house that had done the most perfect spaghetti bolognaise in the history of the universe.

"When is he getting here?" She asked, turning off the gas altogether and feeling an odd sense of elation in giving up. Robb frowned and checked his phone for the time,

"He should already be here, but he had practise with his sister."

Sansa made a face, it was well known how bossy Jaime's sister could be. Sansa had only seen her in concert, standing straight with her golden hair tamed into a ponytail and the violin sitting like an extension of her shoulder. She had, however, heard many stories from Jaime and Robb that confirmed that her talent was probably the nicest thing about her, and her pin straight posture was probably due to the massive stick up her –

"I'll give him a call now, though. You should get back to your résumé." Robb suggested, gesturing lazily to the lounge room where Sansa had been updating her references for the past hour or so. She nodded thankfully and walked back to the office chair that had become her prison over the last 5 days.

She read over the previous line a dozen or so times without making any changes before the door was knocked on twice and opened with an extravagant gesture.

"Your saviour is here!" Jaime announced, holding up the bags of Chinese and winking at Sansa.

"About time!" Robb replied, entering the lounge room with one arm being clung to by Jeyne, his girlfriend.

"Hey, I had to stay back and look after the violin lioness." Jaime said, shrugging as he placed the food on the lounge room table. "She's all pissy because she doesn't have an assistant at the moment and she has to book her own hair appointments."

"God forbid," Robb replied with mocking seriousness.

"Did you get steamed rice?" Jeyne asked, rifling through the bags. She found the plastic container and extracted it triumphantly, taking up one of the one-person couches and gesturing for Sansa to join her. Sansa deviated past the kitchen for some cutlery before perching on the arm of the chair, leaning into Jeyne's shoulder to share the rice with her.

Jaime was glancing at the computer, reading over Sansa's resume and raising his eyebrows.

"That's an impressive looking CV, Sansa. Maybe I should recommend you to Cersei." Jaime joked, sharing a smirk with Robb.

"Actually, that might not be a bad idea. Sansa's used to dealing with over-pampered blondes. Joffrey, you…"

"Watch it," Jaime muttered, kicking out his leg to catch Robb in the knee.

"How much does it pay?" Sansa asked distractedly, still eating rice and looking at the remote wistfully.

"Surprisingly good. Then again, it would have to. She's a nightmare."

"You aren't seriously considering are you, Sansa?" Robb asked

She shifted on the seat and shrugged. "I need to get a job some time. It would look pretty good on my resume."

"I'll mention it to our father," Jaime said

"Jaime!" Robb chastised

"She offered, man!"

"Sansa, it would be hard work." Robb countered, turning to his sister

"No harder than attempting to cook for you and Jeyne."

"Oh is that what you were doing?" Jeyne asked, nudging her leg. Sansa poked her tongue out.

"I'll be fine. Thank you, Jaime. Let me know what your dad says." Sansa said diplomatically.

"Will do, Stark." Jaime gave her a wink. "I'll text him now."

Robb sighed but said nothing else, and Jeyne casually sniped the remote to turn the television on.

It was perhaps three minutes before Jaime got a reply, and suddenly his phone was ringing. He held up a hand to all of us and stepped into the kitchen to answer it, his voice muffled.

After a tense moment of silence Jaime re-entered the lounge, holding the phone out to Sansa.

"She wants to talk to you," he said, wincing. Sansa cleared her throat and stood up, taking the expensive looking phone from his hand and raising it to her ear.

"Hello?" She said quietly.

"Sansa, I presume. I need you to come to my house immediately and organise my schedule for the next week, drop some clothes off at the drycleaners, and check my phone messages. Jaime can tell you the address and my father can organise the paperwork. From your current location I would expect you in no less than half an hour, allowing you some time to present yourself neatly. I'll see you soon,"

The voice was cold and female; Sansa found her feet scrambling to obey despite herself. She was halfway out of the room before she realised what she was doing,

"I…" her response was cut off by the phone beeping loudly, signalling her call was over. She handed the phone back to Jaime, her expression bemused. He laughed at her slowly, pocketing his phone and sitting back down.

"Don't wear anything too revealing, and don't make too much eye contact. You'll be fine." He promised. "Oh, and keep in mind this was voluntary and you're getting paid."

Sansa managed a mute nod as she barrelled into her bedroom.