Chapter 2

"Higher!"

Shouted Bronn, lifting his sword to aim Jaime's head. Jaime spat at the ground, tired and humiliated, after an exhausting afternoon of swordplay with his left hand. When their training started, Jaime hoped that his left hand would be as good as his right, by he was dreadfully mistaken. The sellsword gave him more and more cuts and bruises as the evening passed.

"Fuck you, Bronn," yelled Jaime, as his sword fell from his weak fingers once more. The grinning man just shrugged and leaned against his greatsword.

"You will need to work harder, Lord Commander," mocked Bronn, as he gulped down wine. "It is only a matter of time before the great lords and ladies you are no longer the Lion of Lannisters."

Jaime shot him a murderous look and bent down to retrieve his sword. His knees ached and his stump sent torturous waves of pain to his body. There were many times when Jaime tried to block a hit with his right hand, forgetting that it didn't exist anymore. It had ended painfully.

"Why my brother thought you would be of ant use is beyond me," spat Jaime. "Be careful not to let your tngue loose, sellsword,"

Bronn grinned once more, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. "Don't worry, Lannister. I am loyal to your family...and your gold,"

Jaime was already crossing the courtyard while Bronn was talking. He felt like there was no purpose in his life anymore. He was born a fighter, to lead great armies to war, not to sit in councils with traitors and backstabbers. He could never accept the postition his father wanted to give him or even protect Tommen as Cersei wanted. Jaime was so angry he ripped a tapestry as he made his way to the White Tower. This action gave him a little pleasure. It was one of Robert's favourites and anything that made Robert angry, gave Jaime joy. He must have had murderous look because he saw the maid passing by him flinching from terror.

Jaime slumped the door to his chambers hard enough to wake all the Red Keep and let out an exasperated sigh. Now he couldn't even get dressed. He dismissed the servant who broyght him dinner and instead, settled for a cup of wine. That at least he could do. He relaxed before the firelit bedroom and closed his eyes. He wanted to hit someone. He wanted to laugh with his comrades and eat with Tyrion. But most of all he wanted Cersei.

Cersei had been his lifeline to the world when the Bloody Mummers had captured him. Her thought gave him hope and the strenght to continue to live. But, now he wondered. Had he wasted all his life trying to please his sister? Would he have ever entered the Kingsguard if not for Cersei's plan's? Maybe, he would have a beautiful wife now and a totally different life. Jaime reckoned that there was a serious possibility that Cersei had not only stolen his past, but she would control all his present actions as she pleased.

"Sir Jaime?" Jaime opened his eyes and saw a thin boy looking at his boots.

"Yes?" he asked, irritated.

"Lord Tywin has asked for your presence in his chambers, m'lord," stammered the boy, glancing briefly at Jaime.

Jaime was more than surprised. He thought that after his father had disowned him, he would not want to set eyes upon him again. He informed the servant that he would be there in a fea minutes, and the relieved boy left as quick as the wind.

Jaime wore his best cloak, with the golden lion emroidered and his sword strapped in his rich belt. He looked himslef at the mirror. he was only a shadow of his true self, but still...he could not let his father sense his discomfort. He wore his new golden hand, which he dispised. Everything for the Hand of the King.

Lord Tywin was sitting at his desk, frowning over a letter, His hand flew against the parchment as his golden eyes shimmered with intelligence. Jaime was reminded of a time when his father summoned his as a little boy to scold him. He pushed the disturbing thought away and cleared his throat loudly.

"Jaime," Lord Tywin said flatly. His eyes did not leave the letter. "I was not sure you would come,"

"If you want to give me another lecture on how to be a perfect son, I will leave," said Jaime angrily.

His father's eyes pierced him like a lance. "No matter how many lectures I give you you will never understand sense. But this is not the reason I summoned you. Unfortunately, I cannot disown you completely, for the sake of your mother still."

Jaime let out a sigh. "For my mother, eh? Not for your legacy?"

"Cersei and I have discussed your situation." Jaime flinched at the sound of his sister's name. " You are to leave the Kingsguard and marry a cousin of yours, a distant Lannister, since you cannot longer fight. I accept no other answer than yes. We need to have an heir."

Jaime felt his head spinning. "And..Cersei?'

"She is to marry the Tyrell heir." his father stated seriously.

Jaime shot a deathly stare at Lord Tywin. Father and son duelled silently. Lord Tywin was a frightening person, but Jaime was not a boy anymore. He respected his father as a strategist, but he knew he was terrible as well. Suddenly, the idea dwaned on him: Tywin knew about his relationship with Cersei. He knew, but he chose...this.

"Where are you going, Jaime?" whispered Lord Tywin almost affectionately, as he watched his firstborn leave his chambers once more.

"To find Brienne."

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