There was no heat like a long summer in the capital of Westeros. The rays of the sweltering sun-bronzed exposed skin and rotted the bodies and sewage in the streets. King's Landing was both a beautiful and wretched place, young Julianna was learning that far too quickly. The thin fabric of her gown threatened to stick to her every curve. As a whore, she could feel the heat, but the freedom of her naked form had made it bearable. Now, she craved the coastal breeze that reminded her of home. Instead, she was trapped in the red walls of the keep - not quite a prison, nor a utopia - serving no other than the Cersei Lannister. The maiden lived each day holding her breath as she dressed the Queen Reagent, and trembling as she drew her bath. Living consumed by fear, the fear that the Queen would one day discover that she was not a true Lady.

Tyrion Lannister had always been known for having a way with words, even more so than his sister. The story had been fabricated with each lash of his tongue. Julianna was no longer the whore sold to Lord Baelish for a handful of coins, but rather the daughter of a soldier slain on the battlefield by Rob Stark's Northern army. Jules had spent many moons in the keep. The threat of her truth coming to light diminishing with each day did bring some comfort, but it was quickly stolen by darker thoughts.

Serving the queen did have its perks for a young lady. Much like a doll, Julianna was dressed by the queen in the finest of silks and satin and showcased to the most eligible of noblemen. The queen promised her greatness, stroking her golden curls and pinching rosy cheeks. With Myrcella promised to the Prince of Dorne the handmaiden quickly had become a surrogate daughter to the tyrant queen, furthering her security in the keep. There, she heard whispers. Whispers of the man she yearned for and his captivity in the North. There was no news of his freedom nor his death, she was left only with hope - hope that one day her knight would come.

Nimble fingers carded through the queen's golden locks, guiding the tangles free before braiding them back for her slumber. Eyes dance around the chambers, gazing out at the radiant sun that kisses each bed-post as it set over the city. It is on her table next to her flowers and perfumes that she glanced over a dainty bottle, was it a deep color inside.

"Is that wine my queen?" Julianna questioned gently, a careful nod towards the delicate bottle as she continued to smooth out her golden strands.

Swatting the handmaiden's hands away, letting her hair hang over a narrow shoulder. Hands that had not known a day or labor cradled the vessel in their palms. A careful glide carried her back to her handmaiden, showing her the ornate glass up close. "Essence of nightshade, the slightest of drops soothes the nerves but too much and your slumber will be your last." Full lips curled up at their corners as the handmaidens grew wide at the site.

"My queen I-"

Carefully, the queen placed the bottle into the young handmaiden's hands and held it there firmly. While she had denied it, Stannis Baratheon's army was encroaching on their shores. A siege threatened to take King's Landing. Logically, they had the fortress and men to reign victorious but in her heart, she feared for her children. If the Baratheon army took the Red Keep there would be no survivors, but Cersei wouldn't give them the satisfaction of letting the soldier take their lives.

"Keep this bottle close, my dear," the queen's voice was soft now, a hand reaching out to stroke the girl's cheek, "there will come a time we may need to use it."

Trembling fingers wrapped around the bottle before pulling it into her chest. "I will, my queen," she promised gently, her stomach knotted at the thoughts that coursed through her mind. If the war was knocking at their gates, was their hope in seeing Jaime once more?

The knocker on the chamber door was less than discreet. Any other handmaiden would have feared that it was a member of the guard coming to warn them that battle had taken the black water, but after many nights serving her queen, Julianna knew all too well who was beckoning to them. Lancel Lannister had come and gone through the night first with the death of King Robert, then more so when the news of Jaime grew solemn. It was well speculated across the lands that Cersei and Jaime were more than just brother and sister. Now, Jules knew it had been true as the queen was now bedding her cousin.

Her lips parted in disbelief, how could they think that now was a time for such relations. She was sure that even the whores that served Lord Baelish were seeking refuge to keep them safe from the threats that came with the night. Tucking the bottle into her breast, Julianna moved to the door and pulled it open. The sight of the lion brought a smug grin to the handmaiden's lips. Who was a whore to judge a whore?

Turning on her heels, Julianna turned to face her queen and curtsied. "For your nerves, my queen."

Julianna disappeared into the castle, lingering in the shadows and sneaking past the guards until she had found her sanctuary. The first time she had sought out the White Sword Tower, it had been near impregnable. Now, there was not a guard to be seen. They were stationed throughout the castle, out on the gate protecting their king.

Near the top of the tower, there was a chamber untouched for many moons. Dust collected over the seals and parchment that was left scattered over the desk and a white cloak remained draped at the foot of the bed. While she was sure Jaime hadn't spent much time in his own chamber, she clung to the thought that his scent still lingered on the bedding and that his lips had once graced the goblet at his bedside. The whore had found solace here, wrapped up in the sheets and embraced by darkness. She knew it was only a matter of time before she found the room empty - especially now as the queen was losing faith in her dear brother returning home. Besides, for all, she knew the Red Keep would be in ruins come daybreak.

Settling herself down on what was more of a cot than a bed, she drew the elegant white cape around her own shoulders and relishes in the scent that only new seemed to be fading. Tears threatened to stream down freckled cheeks, her heart aching with longing. She craved the touch of her distant knight.

Carefully, Julianna removed the bottle of nightshade from her gown and placed it on the table - she may need that later - before letting her fingers return to the swell of her breast. Sapphire eyes fluttered shut, welcoming the imagery of her mind. The corners of her lips found the will to smile as she pretended that her own fingers were those of her lover. Lips parted, a heavy breath leaving her lips in the place of a moan. Jules had to keep quiet, she could only imagine the trouble she would be in if she was discovered.

A hand left her breasts, pulling the white cape up to her mouth. Her teeth bit down on the fabric, tasting the essence of him, this would keep her quiet. Jules craved to speak his name, this only had her biting down on the cape harder. A moan sat at the base of her throat threatening to erupt. NO, you can't. Yet, she did. Loud and forceful, leaving her throat raw and the world around her shaking - no that wasn't her. It was the castle, a rumble coursing through its walls and the kingdom.

The battle had begun.

Any ounce of arousal was lost as fear consumed the handmaiden. Wide eyes frantically searched the darkness, settling on the black bottle as she pushed herself from the bed. She stuffed the bottle back into its security and took to the castle halls. The clamor of armor was ahead of her, men ready to fight and give their lives for their king. At any other moment, she would have feared being discovered, but now she only feared death. Her footsteps were quick as she pushed her way past the panicked bodies of many trying to find refuge. She needed to get to her queen.

As she grew closer to the queen's quarters she spotted a rush of handmaidens and relief quickly took her. She had made it. Her secret would be kept, and maybe they would survive the night. Quick, desperate steps didn't stop until she had blended into the crowd of worrying high-born ladies. Jules didn't know many of them well, but she did know that they came from each corner of the seven kingdoms. There were ladies from as far as Ironrath in the North, and from the exotic lands of Essos - and they all had whispered, calling her heritage into question. There was something unappealing about being stuck in a room with them, and she could only hope it would not be a long night.

The ladies and their handmaidens dispersed throughout the Maegor's Holdfast, settling into their corners to hide the tears of fear that strained their cheeks. Julianna, however, was done with hiding. Quickly, she found her place next to her queen and young Tommen, supporting the vessel of wine and offering a smile that suggested that there was hope for them all.

"-Pour Lady Sansa some wine," Cersei beckoned, her voice sullen. Chances were she had already had much to drink, but Julianna knew better than to refuse her. The Queen could hold her wine better than any man, and it made her much more dangerous than any sword. Reaching for a clean goblet, she began to pour.

"I'm not thirsty your grace," the northern lady refused.

But no one refused the queen. "So?" Cersei challenged, "I didn't offer you water." Julianna held the wine out to the redhead insistently and did not retract until the girl accepted. She lingered at their side, learning of Cersei's confidence in Ser Ilyn Payne to defend them. It had offered peace to her mind to have him there for protection but it was quickly lost when they learned the common people had begun to flee. It would only be a matter of time before the paid guards decided they value their own lives more than those who ruled them.

As the night and the battle raged on, the pouring of wine became nothing more than a reflex. Once a cup was empty it was to be refilled, the queen demanded it. Soon, even Julianna had been persuaded into drinking with the queen. She nursed the red liquor carefully, having never tasted something so sweet, yet strong. Cersei was the wine embodied: tempting, comforting, and dangerous.

"I should have been born a man, I'd rather face a thousand sword than being shut inside with this flock of frightened hens," Cersei continued to consume and be consumed by the wine, her words coming to put those in her company on edge. With another goblet of wine, the vassal emptied and Jules lingered to the edge of the hold-fast to fetch more. Eyes focused on the flow of wine, she hadn't realized she had been followed until the queen was pressed up against her back. She could feel the women's every curve, her breast pushed into her back, her hips resting against the swell of her own ass. The queen was tall much like her twin brother, hovering over her handmaiden. Carefully, she lowered her lips down to the young woman's ear, and as she whispered her warm breath washed over freckled flesh.

"Do you have any notion of what happens when a city is sacked?" Cersei's hands found the woman's hips, squeezing them gently. She leaned back for just a moment, looking back at the frightened girls to assure no eyes had settled on her form. "No, you wouldn't would you? If the city falls, these fine women should be in for a bit of rape. Half of them will have bastards in their bellies come morning." Her hands rounded the other's frame, gripping at her stomach. "A precious thing like you will look very, very good…" Even the queen could recognize the threat of another beautiful woman, and for a moment, her own hands got to enjoy it.

Abandoning her stomach, Cersei let her hands travel upwards finding full breasts encased in her gown. Fingers groped them carefully, a smile coming to her lips as Julianna took an uneasy breath. Was she arousing her? What a scandalous thought that would be. Pulling back the fabric, Cersei set her breast free, catching the bottle that had been concealed there before letting her eyes wander over exposed skin.

"I remember having tits like that," she hummed, "could drive any man wild so firm and pert. They would ravish you, dear." There may have even been a time where Cersei might have as well, but she had been young and foolish then. "Stannis Baratheon's troops are taking the wall as we speak," the Queen pressed herself into Julianna further as she reached for the girl's goblet, dragging it over the rough wooden surface of the table. Delicate fingers pulled the topper from the Essence of Nightshade and let ten drops fall into the cup of wine. "They may take the city, but they won't take us alive."

"My queen I-"

Securing the bottle in her dress, Cersei spun the handmaiden around and placed a careful hand to her cheek. Eyes searched her features, focusing on the scared eyes that reminded her so much of her daughter in Dorne. "They will come for you, and when they do drink from this cup."

"I will," she promised, no one refused the queen.

Cersei nodded, taking the remaining bottle and fleeing from the holdfast with young Tommen pulled close to her side. The room fell into a panic, the handmaidens scurrying together and being brought into song by Lady Sansa. Julianna didn't join them, she didn't know the hymns of their gods. Instead, she found the darkest corner of the room, her hands cradling the lethal goblet.

Did she dare sip from the tainted drink? The threat of a Stannis Baratheon's victory consumed her. The panic of having a man force himself upon her bringing tears to her eyes. It was the very thing Lord Tyrion had helped her escape when he plucked her from Littlefinger's brothel. It was an inevitable fate, but she had made a promise. She was to wait for Jaime, and bed no other man. Even if it were by force, Jules couldn't bear but break her solemn vow. Suddenly, the wine was much more tempting. There would be no more secrets, no more hiding. She would die the one thing she truly accepted herself to be, the Kingslayer's whore.

Slowly, the golden goblet is raised to her full lips, the rim cold to the touch. A nervous breath shakes her body, inhaling the sweet scent of the wine. Sweet, yet dangerous. She is still for a moment, her eyes falling shut to forget the room around her. There are no nasty highborn handmaidens. There is no siege, nor there a king's landing. There is only home, the winds laced with seawater and rock beaches of Casterly Rock.

The goblet tips back, the taste of wine hitting her tongue. She holds it there, trying to find the will to swallow only to find herself choking at the sound of victory bells. Her lips come apart, the wine spilling out over her chin, down into the cup, and staining the front of her own. Desperate hands drop the poisoned drink and wipe away the traces from her skin. The battle was over, they had won.