A/N: Sorry for this short chapter!

Chapter Two

Brienne remained in her filthy bathwater much longer than she had originally anticipated. But her fight with Jaime, the guilt at calling him by the name e hated so much, made her feel pensive and drained. She had never dealt with affection or attention from men well. After what Lord Randyll's men had done, Brienne doubted she would ever truly trust a man. The humiliation had been tolerable, once she had dealt with the stares and japes. She had been most appalled by the lack of honor among the knights.

But, as she let the water around her cool and the dirt on her body slowly flaked off, she realized what Jaime had been suggesting was only a friendly gesture, if misguided. The whole idea of watching her bathe was going too far, she thought. The unnecessary suggestion had made her wary, made her push him away. Though it wasn't like he hadn't already seen her naked, she thought, the blush creeping up her cheeks. Perhaps he had thought that, after the news of Lady Catelyn's death, she would simply drown herself in her bath and leave her oath unfulfilled. He sought to protect her from that, as she had done for him. She had done almost exactly that.

She felt the realization of his true intentions weigh on her. She clambered gracelessly out of the tub, knocking water to the floor. On the bed, another pink dress, provided by the King's Hand, lay neatly beside a pair of plain breeches and a tunic, left by Jaime. He had known she would rather sulk naked in her chambers rather than wear another pink dress. He knew her. The guilt washed over her anew.

She needed to apologize.

She quickly dressed in the tunic and breeches, pulling on her dirty boots and slipping a small dagger into her boot. She knew King's Landing would not appreciate a lady walking around in breeches, but they would not tolerate a lady wearing a sword. She strode purposefully out of her quarters, set on finding Ser Jaime.

In little time, Brienne knew she was lost. She had no idea where the King's Guard resided, or even if Jaime was in his chambers. He could be at a tavern, or even a brothel. Or with the Queen Regent. The thought of the rumors of Cersei and Jaime made her feel both sick and sorry for Jaime. Though, she supposed, with no suitors and her face, she ought to feel sorry for herself instead of the Lannister twins. The thought of the two of them married, the golden haired beauties, made her feel dejected, though she couldn't imagine why.

Finally, after an hour of searching, Brienne found another member of the King's Guard, in his traditional white cloak, guarding a door.

"I'm looking for Ser Jaime," she said confidently, though she did not feel it. "Can you direct me to his chambers?"

"What's an ugly wench like you looking for the Kingslayer for?"

Brienne ignored the jibe. "I need to speak to him," she replied.

"Well the Kingslayer needs not to see the like's 'o you," the guard hissed.

"His name is Jaime," she answered, "Not Kingslayer."

"You remembered, did you?"

Brienne whirled around, coming face-to-face with Jaime, who looked tired. "Ser Jaime," Brienne began. "I wanted to apolo –,"

"Don't waste your breath, wench," he said, brushing past her. "I don't want to hear it."

She followed closely behind him, desperate for him to hear her. "Jaime, I beg your pardons, I should not have used that accursed name –,"

Jaime didn't even stop. "You think I'm mad because you called me 'Kingslayer'?"

Brienne lost her voice then.

"No wench. I know I will be an oath breaker in your ugly eyes. What upsets me is you can defy what everyone thinks of you, but I am not allowed to do the same." Jaime watched her brow furrow again as he waited for a reply. "You're allowed to act like a true valiant knight, but when I try to return the favor, as I am supposed to, you don't let me. You think I'm mocking you," he paused, and hurt filled his voice. "I had no idea you still thought so low of me."

Brienne's guilt threatened to overcome her. "Jaime, if you would just listen."

"Go away, wench," he replied.

Frustrated, Brienne reached out to stop him from leaving. Jaime turned in response to her touch and pushed hard on Brienne's chest. Caught off-guard, she stumbled half a step before she hit the wall. Jaime had her pinned with his maimed hand. Brienne found herself nose to nose with the Kingslayer, his eyes a torment of green with flecks of gold, her own a flurry of ice and ocean. His chest was heaving, brushing against hers.

"I will not listen to a woman who does not know her place," he growled. Brienne let the comment sting for only a second to sate her guilt before she shoved him back. Jaime had expected it, and did not budge. Brienne tucked her boot behind Jaime's and drew it too close to her, and put pressure on his chest, sending him rocketing down to the floor. Brienne drew her dagger from her boot, and pointed it lazily at him.

"I know my place," she said, "I'm just sorry I didn't let you assume yours," she tucked the dagger into her belt and melted into the shadows, leaving Jaime in the dirt.

Jaime stayed on the ground for a long moment after she was gone, breathing heavily. Brienne was right, she knew her place, and it was kicking men to the ground. While he had eventually come to appreciate her place, he knew he could not let her assume that place here. She would be ridiculed, teased, and eventually raped and killed. Though if it would be at the hands of a member of his family or a member of the King's Guard, he could not be sure.

As Jaime lay there, thinking on the Maid of Tarth's fate, he had to wonder why he was bothering to protect a woman who obviously did not wish to be protected. But as he asked the question, he answered it. That blasted wench had saved his life time and again, risked her life to get him here safe, and a Lannister always pays his debts.

But how large of a debt did he have to pay?

Cersei watched her twin standing stiffly beside the Knight of Flowers and found herself seething with unexplainable anger. This man, with grey hairs sneaking into his beard, was not the twin she remembered, the one who was quick to draw a sword and even quicker to anger. This man was quick to nothing. Seven hells, he could barely get dressed without help. She thought getting Jaime back meant happiness and safety, yet Jaime was rebuking her every chance he got.

Margaery Tyrell sauntered by him and Cersei's anger turned to a torrent. She saw the way Jaime looked at her, like he was appraising her. Joffrey's little queen, the queen of the people. It made her sick. Cersei stood from her seat, and the room fell silent.

"If the small council would be so kind –," Margaery's coquettish giggle broke the obedient silence. Cersei turned her eyes to her, and saw that Jaime had said something funny to her; his eyes were smiling as well. Margaery's pink cheeks were flushed as she smiled at Jaime. Varys, Pycelle, Lord Tywin and the rest stood and strode out before her. Cersei gave Jaime a withering look as she followed him out. He pretended not to have noticed.

"I have an urgent matter I wish to discuss with the small council," she announced as she swept into the room, all skirts and floral scents.

"You want to remove Ser Jaime from the King's Guard," Varys finished helpfully.

Pycelle looked appalled. "Not possible," he said. "Ser Jaime is the Lord Commander, and the King's Guard members serve for life." Cersei rolled her eyes.

"We removed Ser Barristan," she said. "We can remove Jaime."

"And that was a terrible decision, pardon Your Grace," Pycelle said. "Varys's sources say that Ser Barristan is now working alongside the Targaryen girl."

Cersei momentarily fell silent. Twyin's gaze was on her, judgmental and rough. Seeing an opening, Cersei appealed to him. "Father, Jaime is no knight any longer. He will shame the family name, to play at knights when he is no more than a cripple."

Lord Tywin looked displeased that she mentioned the family name in court, but answered nonetheless. "Ser Jaime should be persuaded to step down, so as to take his rightful place as Lord of Casterly Rock," he said. "He will not be removed."

Cersei smiled. "You've always been the most persuasive, Father."

Tywin did not smile. "I'll see what I can do," he said. "Jaime will have stepped down from the King's Guard by the time Joffrey weds the Tyrell girl."

The wedding was in only a fortnight. "Thank you, Father."

"Your Grace," he said as a way of farewell. Cersei was relieved. She needed Jaime away from Joffrey and Margaery. It wouldn't do to have the King cuckolded by a cripple. With Jaime gone, her father would finally see that Cersei was the only true son he ever had.

Once Margaery and her hoard of flowers were gone, Cersei would be completely happy. Cersei paced the room, hoping to spark inspiration. Margaery was already widowed, once married to the traitor Renly Baratheon. She could not be imprisoned by way of treason; Joffrey had already absolved her of that. If she came to Joffrey despoiled, she could find a way to have her removed from his affections. But if the rumors were true, then Renly had loved Maragery none, and her brother more.

With Margaery sleeping with two female cousins in her bed every night, it would seem that Margaery had an affinity for the female flesh that Renly had not. Cersei chuckled. What a torrid affair that would be, Margaery with another courtly lady; the shame would surely send her running from court all the way back to Highgarden. She went riding and hawking so much it was very possible. But Cersei didn't need possible, she need absolute proof.

"Bring me Sansa Stark," she called to her guard. "Immediately."