Jaime

"So let me get this straight," Bronn says as Jaime dresses behind a partisan in his Lannister armor, "You're asking me now for the third time to go with you on some insane assignment for your insane sister because of some insane reason? Oh, and on top of that, you still haven't paid me for the last two times I helped ya'."

"You know that's not true. You've been paid."

"Aye, but it wasn't the agreed upon amount. Nowhere near. You still owe me a lot more. I believe it was an even bigger castle and a more beautiful wife of my own choosing, wasn't it?" Bronn rolls his eyes, slipping his dagger into its sheath. He just finished cleaning his nails with it.

The two of them are in Jaime's chambers. Jaime summoned the sellsword to ask for his partnership. He is to set out for Winterfell today, and Jaime has no intention of going alone with only one hand to defend himself with, and after the spectacle the other day he made of persuading Cersei not to send their army with him, he'd look the fool to ask her for assistance now. Bronn is his only option... My only friend in King's Landing.

"I expect you'll pay me triple then." Bronn says.

"Triple? You want three castles and three wives?"

"For starters, yeah. You're talking about assassinating The King of the North and his sister. This isn't the same thing as fixing Frey sieges or fighting treacherous cunts in Dorne. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't just tell you to fuck off right now?"

"We're friends, aren't we?" Jaime sneers, "More than that, I need you. I can't fight alone out there, and if I end up taking on the King of the North without backup I'm afraid no girl will ever get another chance to ride this golden hand."

"Like any girl had a chance." Bronn scoffs, "Your hand is so far up your sister's ass you might as well be living in there."

"Does that mean you'll help me?"

Bronn considers him with narrowed eyes. "Aye, I'll come with you. Tyrion always paid me, y'know."

"I told you not to talk about my brother."

"Aye, you told me. But until you pay me I'm going to keep talking how I like. You know that."

"Fine... Bronn…" Jaime fishes for the right words to say. The Kingslayer lifts his real hand up for the Sellsword to shake. Bronn takes it. "Thank you, my friend."

Before they can say another word the door to Jaime's room opens and one of Cersei's Queensguard stands at attendance. "You've been summoned by Her Grace, the Queen. I'm to escort you both to the Throne Room."

"Both?" Bronn crosses his arms, "What's this about?"

"She wants to see me off before we leave." Jaime mutters. He should've left the city before Cersei did something like this. As much as a part of him still loves her, he anxiously desires to escape her clutches over him.

Every night he was summoned to her chamber. Every night he was forced to do her bidding, pleasing her at her command, giving his body over to her. When it was over he would lay awake in her bed, listening to Cersei sleep, hating himself, wondering where it all went wrong…