It was his time to guard the King's chambers; Jaime wondered how Robert would try to annoy him today. Boros Blount was on watch right now, and saw Jaime approaching so he left his post. "Abandoning a bit early aren't we?" Jaime asked as the man walked by. Blount was a coward, a good enough swordsman to earn his place in the guard but he would rather run then fight any day. Today he must have done everything he could to muster up enough courage to reply, "Thought I would give you a wide berth to be a lone with the King and his guests." If Blount had stopped walking Jaime would have hit him. Jaime has wanted to do that for many years, but today it would have been too much. Thankfully he kept on walking, the man's footsteps echoing as he walked through the Red Keep. Jaime took a deep breath before adding his own falling footsteps sounding through the hall.

"Whores," Jaime mumbled to himself fisting the pommel of his sword. It was always whores, that the King could degrade his wife and enrage her twin at the same time made it one of his favorite pastimes. Not that it was very inventive on his part.

The entrance to the King's chambers and solar was sunk into the passageway, whoever was waiting at the door must be sitting on the steps descending towards it, for only a head was visible. She was the cleanest whore Jaime had ever seen, her white her was very clean brushed and well styled. He wished he could say she was the youngest he had ever seen, but that would not be true. She was also very blonde, unusual as Robert's tastes ran towards more brunettes; Jaime was rather disgusted that he knew the man's taste in whores.

The red tile of the keep accentuated the girl's whiteness; her skin and dress were just as white as her hair. "Oh gods no," Jaime said as he came to stand next to her, he hadn't meant to say it out loud. Do not let it be her, he thought. Upon hearing him the girl had stood and turned to face him, he could clearly see her eyes now. "Who are you?" he asked is voice cracking slightly in worry.

"The last one said I could wait here, I have no where else to go. I will leave if it please you, sorry to disturb you ser." She was very small, and seemed frightened of him, which if she was who Jaime found himself praying she was not, then she would have every right to be terrified. She was small, among the vaulted ceilings and large stone columns, but small wasn't the right word, fragile. Rhaella always seemed fragile to him too, as if she didn't really belong here.

"Wait," he practically shouted after her, "answer me."

The girl fidgeted a little bit and lowered her purple eyes causing Jaime's stomach to lurch slightly in nervousness. "Allyria Dayne, ser," she answered quietly.

"Thank the gods," Jaime said louder then he had meant to, and with a laugh. She stopped looking at him for a moment, and appearing very much confused at his relief. Jaime couldn't remember much about the late Arthur Dayne, but doubted very much that he had ever looked confused.

"I have heard it say that I look like them, I never meant one the war started when I was very young. I guess it must be true, though." Jaime only nodded. It was foolish to even think that Daenerys Targaryen would live long enough to speak to anyone in the Red Keep, not with Robert as king. Yet that was who he had thought she was, perhaps it had been craven Blount's warning that set his mind on edge. Even now knowing the truth, it was hard to get past the resemblance. Though he could see the eyes were just a little to dark and the skin yellower and darker too. The blood of old Valaryia, as Aerys took to calling himself had only silver hair never gold.

"Stay if you want, or go, it matters not to me." The girl was so till she could have been a painted statue, like the ones in the castles gardens. She stayed that way for several moments more, and Jaime wanted to say he had no time for sly maiden's games, but that would be false, all he had was time. "Indulge me, sit again," He asked her though there were no chairs just the hard marble steps again. Allyria remained standing. "Why are you alone? Surely your father would not send you to court by yourself."

"I came with my father, we were asked to be the king. Though Father would have much rather ignored the summon and have us both stay at home. Jaime had never met Lord Dayne, but he imagined he had the same streak of loyalty both his sons had. In that Arthur had been loyal to a dead king and prince till the very end, so to would his father, an errand for the new King Robert would not be a welcome one for the Dornish man.

"What was so important to require a royal invitation?" Jaime asked leaning in.

"It's your job to keep the King's secrets, shouldn't you already know?" She asked full of impertinence. The girl was braver and cleverer then he had expected, perhaps the day would not be so dull after all.

The girl was staring straight at him and those piercing eyes made it hard for him to concentrate. Jaime was rarely the one being charmed. Well many maids had tried, but few had succeeded, he was usually the charmer in a conversation. A single strand of hair clung to her lips as Allyria smiled, and Jaime made to move it. The overly intimate moment was stopped by the door opening suddenly. An elderly man stared back at him, with those same purple eyes. The look was brief, but full of anger and very direct at Jaime. The man slammed the door shut before grabbing the girl and practically dragging her away. "Goodbye," she called over her shoulder, "Ser, whatever your name is."

"Jaime," he called back. He hadn't met a person who didn't know who he was already in many years. He smiled at the thought of her innocence; he noticed the girl had smiled too.

The rest of the day went by quietly and without any interruptions by the king himself. Normal days the silence would be welcome, but today it caused Jaime to dwell on memories best left forgotten. Twelve years ago he had been a very different person, a boy who had dreamed of honor. He had wanted to be exactly like the maid's older brother, but life had turned out differently. Jaime tried to remember what Ser Arthur had looked like, he remembered dark hair, and the eyes of course. Mostly he recalled the man's ability with a sword. It was better to dwell on all the tourneys and battles Jaime had seen Ser Arthur fight in then anything else of his once brother.

Sooner then he realized Jaime's watch was over and it was time for supper. Sometimes he had dined with the royal family at his sister's request, but it was always a strained and uncomfortable occasion and Jaime began to resent the invitations. Tonight he would dine alone, or with whomever of his sworn brothers remained in White Sword Tower. He saw Arys Oakheart at the table in the center of the solar where food had been brought. There was a sticky glazed ham and brandy pears, buttered yams and what was likely cold pigeon pie. Jaime made a plate for himself but opted to eat in his chambers, grabbing a skin of wine as he left. The king's guard were servants of the realm and as such didn't have very luxurious accommodations, though they were all sons of some lord or other. Jaime's chambers were not much bigger then the double bed and the basin it contained. It had a nice view though; in fact Jaime suspected that besides the lord commander's room his was the nicest in the tower. His window looked out over the bay, being just over the wall that led to the mud gate. When not on watch duty Jaime passed much of his time looking into the bay watching ships come in. Jaime was not fond of solitude by nature but circumstance had made it the best option, though he would prefer to be in his siblings company to that of anyone else, especially Cersei's.

They were born the same in every way but one, green eyes gold hair tanned skin and wicked smile. They were whole when they were together, that is what Cersei would say at least. He wasn't quite sure he knew what that meant, but he agreed that's what she wanted anyways. Over time they had both changed and spending time with her had become harder as she was less and less the sister he knew. His father marrying her off to the king who drank and whored his days away had turned Cersei hard and cold. Sometimes when she called for Jaime she would crumble and crave his comfort, which outside of a battlefield was when he felt most useful.

There was a warm breeze blowing through the window, ruffling his curls and throwing them into his eyes. The white curtains on the four poster bed moved in the wind as well revealing a piece of parchment there. The note was in his squire's hand but it had been dictated by the queen. He finished his meal, forgetting that he was still dressed all in armor. There would be plenty of time to remove it by himself before going to see his sister. Once the chest plate was off, with it's fastenings in the back, every thing else would kind of slip off. He would put it away more carefully when he returned but for now he left the pieces wherever they fell as he was removing them.

The invitation wasn't for dinner but he was still apprehensive as he reread it. Now he was left in only a thin silk tunic and light cotton breeches, it was too hot under all that metal for anything else. He would be presentable enough for his sister, but he wonder if it would be just his sister. The wardrobe didn't hold very much just breeches tunics and jerkins of various weights. There was a deep burgundy leather jerking and put it on, tying the laces in the front. As he was about to pass through the door he spared a thought for his pants, but decided he didn't care it would be good enough for his sister and that's all that mattered. Lions do not concern themselves with the opinions of sheep, he thought to himself, wondering whether Lord Tywin would consider the king as sheep. Or the crown prince as the case more often was.

It took all Jaime had to be in the same room as the crown prince, what happened to that boy Jaime knew not. Joffery was a spoiled boy and it seemed to turn him cruel and stupid. God help us when he takes the crown, Jaime had thought often enough over the years.

Over the years there had been many clandestine meetings between the twins, but as he was leaving he was glad there was no one about to question his coming and goings. White Sword Tower was closer to the keep, and Cersei's chambers, then other of the castles out buildings but it was still inconvenient when in a hurry. As most of the castle was either preparing food, eating, or cleaning up after someone who had already eaten, the halls were mostly empty. In truth the castles halls were more empty then not, even as you drew closer to the throne room.

From within the keep you took a left and went up to reach the queen's chambers, instead of down for the king. The door was partially hid by a statue of a large water nymph, Jaime knocked quietly on the pine door. He could hear light quick steps coming towards him right before the door open inwards revealing his sister. "Oh brother, dear brother," she said as if that were actually his name and not Jaime. Cersei wore her long golden curls pulled back in a net beaded with pearls; her dress was gold with ivory trim and laced up on the front. She pulled Jaime inside wrapping him in a hug after she had shut and bolted the door. He knew she had some plan in mind but he craved her body and was enjoying the feel of her next to him to much to think about it. "There is nothing I can do about it, I am so sorry dear brother," she said as she stroked his neck, his head on her shoulder.

Her words concerned Jaime and no closeness would calm him now, "What," he asked.

"When father joined the rebellion he asked Robert to release you from the king's guard when he sat the throne. I don't know why he has waited until now to do so, but he told me he intends to see you married." Jaime didn't think before he wrenched open the door, he never did when he was this angry.

"He may be king but he isn't a god," Jaime shouted back at her, practically running down the stairs to confront Robert.