Chapter Ten

"I am sorry. I don't believe there is any remedy for devil's moon flower." Pycelle told them sadly when they arrived at his chambers out of breath. Even Tommen had run the entire distance.

"Are you absolutely sure?" Jaime was almost yelling at him. "Is there nothing written in any of these tomes that can help her?" He said looking around the room at the ominous stacks of books.

"I will show you." Pycelle took down a volume from a shelf across the room and laid it on the table near his bedside. He opened to the book and flipped through the pages at an agonizingly slow pace. "Ah, here it is. Devils Moon: A poisonous blue flower that grows in Essos and on the coasts of Dorne. It does not kill instantly but several doses can render the victim unconscious. Most victims never wake from this sleep and will die within a fortnight. In rare instances the victim will recover after three to four weeks. There is no known cure."

"That's just one book, Maester Pycelle." Tommen was saying. "Perhaps there are others, newer books with different information."

"I do try to keep all of the newest books of healing Your Grace, but I can contact the citadel in Old Town and see if there is any helped to be gained from their knowledge." Pycelle told them.

Jaime fled the room. He would not let his son see his emotional state. The goldcloaks didn't need to see him like this either. He went back to his chambers and found a skin of wine. Jaime was fully intoxicated by the time he returned to Elinor's bedside. Margaery was still at her cousin's side. She was reading aloud a book of songs when he arrived.

"Might I sit with her, alone?" Jaime asked, lowing himself into an empty chair and aiming so poorly that he landed on the floor.

"You're drunk, Ser Jaime." The queen said as he pulled himself up into the chair.

"Of course I'm drunk. Would you rather I had a feast to celebrate?" Even in his drunken state, he knew better than to speak to the queen in this manner.

"You would be far more useful if you were sober." She pointed out.

"How? How could I possibly be useful? Should I go down to the kitchens and bring some more milk and honey for her to drink. Or I could launder her clothes? I can't do anything of use at all! No one can!" The wine had not dulled his senses nearly as much as he'd hoped for.

"I'm afraid you're right. There is very little any of us can do. But if by chance she does wake, I think she might prefer to find you sober." Margaery was getting up from where she was seated on the other side of the bed. "I will leave you two alone for now. Lock the door behind me or by morning the whole castle will be gossiping about you being here in Elinor's room, drunk." She said with half a smile.

Jaime locked the door after the queen had left. Then he took off his boots and his golden hand and climbed into bed with Elinor. It did him good to be close to her, to wrap his arms around her and breathe in the scent of her hair. So close and yet so far away. He fell asleep and dreamt of Vargo Hoat chopping off Elinor's hands while he himself watched from a cage, unable to do anything to save her. Then Qyburn came and sewed her hands back on. Qyburn! Jaime woke with a start. The man had been dismissed from the citadel and was no longer a maester but perhaps he would know things or do things that Pycelle would not.

The room was dark. It must have been the middle of the night. He tried not to think about the fact that this was really the only time he had slept next to a woman and it might not happen again. He reached over and gave Elinor a brief kiss before pulling himself from the bed and putting his boots back on. He wasn't even sure where to find Qyburn. He was somewhere in the city, he knew that much because Cersei preferred Qyburn as a maester to Pycelle. Perhaps the shortest route to Qyburn was through Cersei.

Jaime's head was aching by the time he reached the dungeons. It was hard to tell if the pain came from the wine or from anger or both. The corridor was lit by a single torch. He took it with him and headed for his sister's cell. She was asleep on a straw matt when he entered.

"Jaime?' She stood and all but threw herself at him, hugging him. "I knew you would come for me."

He allowed himself to hug her with his one free arm for about three seconds. She was his sister after all and being locked in a cell was a terrible experience for anyone. Gently he pushed her away. "Where do I find Qyburn?"

"You can't be serious?" Her anger and disappointment were visible. "You came here to ask about Qyburn? You're still trying to save the Tyrell bitch?"

"Tell me where he is and perhaps I can get you out of here." Jaime prodded.

"My son is going to get me out of here. I don't need you to do it. I don't need you for anything… but you need me." She said sweetly.

Jaime didn't like the turn that this conversation had taken. He wanted to grab her by the throat and strangle the life out of her. And some part of him wanted to kiss her and fuck her but he did his best to keep his focus on the anger.

"If you want me to tell you where Qyburn is, it's going to cost you." Cersei continued.

"Cost me what?" Jaime asked, but he didn't need to. He already knew the answer.

"Make love to me Jaime, just like you used to." She said wrapping her arms around him. "Like you did when you still cared. Fuck me, right here and now and I'll tell you exactly where Qyburn is."

Jaime swallowed. What was wrong with him that he was even considering this offer? There had to be other ways to find Qyburn. Honestly though, he didn't even know who to ask or where to begin searching. And maybe he had missed her a little in spite of how despicable she was.

"If you're lying to me and you don't know where he is…" Jaime began.

"I know where he is." Cersei said and she kissed him. And he let her.