Each night she had counted the days since she had last seen her departed knight, a man-made prisoner during the raging war. Most nights, she would drift before she could reach the total number of moons she was spent watching without him. Yet, Julianna could have never guessed that when she had retired to her chambers after conspiring in the gardens that her knight would return to her so soon. There had been no news of his release, no negotiations made for his return - and there he stood, though he wasn't unscathed for one of the very hands she craved the touch of was gone. Fabric ripped to tie around his form was wrapped around the stump where his sword hand once was, and while Jules yearned to run to him and collapse at his feet to thank the gods for his safe return, she was forced to watch as her Queen's face twisted in disgust at was before her.

This man that stood in her doorway was not her brother, but a skeleton of a man she once loved. Jaime had missed Joffrey's name-day, and the wedding was weeks away. Cersei almost couldn't remember a time she had been with her brother, the many nights with Lancel - and the new thirst for her handmaiden - blinding her from the love she once held for her dear brother. He took too long to return to her, and his hand!- She almost gagged at the sight. Jaime had once been an esteemed member of the King's Guard and he had been taken captive and severed from his own sword hand. How could he continue to protect their son, if he had let this all happen to him?

"No one can see him this way," Cersei broke the trance that had consumed the room, each individual as confused as the next.

How had they all ended up here? The question begged answers from one more than others.

Cersei was not going to let anyone see her brother this way. A weak man. "Julianna," she beckoned her handmaiden, her arm reaching out to wrap her underneath the sprawling sleeve of her robe, "you must take him-"

Jaime perked up in the doorway, his tired eyes looking bright for a moment as he glanced between the two women he loved. It was the first time he had been in King's Landing in many moons, and now his sister was sending him away? He wasn't expecting the warmest of welcomes, but he was yearning to be held, to be made to forget all the harm that had been brought to him since his time in captivity.

"Take him?" Julianna begged for clarity from her queen. Being given time along with her knight would be a blessing, but she couldn't help but worry that this would lead to some sort of betrayal and trickery.

"To the privacy of his quarters in White Sword Tower, he will tell you the way," as if the handmaiden hadn't made her way there many nights before, "let no one see him this way, keep the shadow of his hood heavy over his face. No one must see him this way. See that the kitchen serves his dinner to his room - no, I changed my mind you will serve it to him. Attend to my brother, and I will see what the maester can do about-" she took a long pause, her mossy hues lingered over the stump at the end of his arm, "can do about his hand." or rather, lack of thereof.

"Yes, M'Queen," the blonde handmaiden nodded eagerly, lowering her head out of respect before taking a careful step towards her knight. She could see the recognition in her eyes, earning the slightest smile on her lips. "Ser Jaime Lannister," she greeted with a deep curtsy, "it's an honor." Both her hands reached out, taking hold of the rough cloak that consumed him. The stench that emitted from him was sour, but she didn't dare retreat. With a gentle touch, she pulled the hood over his golden locks until they rested over his cheeks, concealing his identity from all they would pass. Retracting, she then offered a single arm to him, to guide him on his way to the tower. Their stroll was long and silent, filled with nothing more than subtle glances before their heads would bow to remain unseen. It was only when the chamber door to Ser Jaime's private quarters was firmly shut that questions could be answered.

"How?" Jaime's voice was weak from behind the shadow of his hood. His hand trembled desperately reaching to remove the itching fabric from his skin. "How are you here, in the castle? A hand-" a cough erupted from his lips after each word had driven his throat dry.

His lips were met with the rim of a glass, water carefully nursed through his lips. Jules hushed him with a gentle hum, her hand caressing along the rough hair on his jaw as she gazed upon his shallow features. "Drink," she encouraged him and waited for the cup to empty. "Lord Tyrion, is an intelligent man," Julianna was grinning wide now, after all, she had been through - all they had to conspired - it had been a success! She couldn't help but wonder if the Imp had done this before… "Littlefinger was growing tired of waiting, and your brother brought me here. He kept me safe here, in the Castle."

"Serving my sister," there was a sense of fear in his voice as water dripped from his lower lip. If Cersei had any inclination that she was anything less than a lady, she would have been left to be humiliated, or worse killed. Legs weak, Jaime bent at the knees, reaching for a nearby stool to settle upon. He felt Jules' gentle embrace, helping him down into his seat.

"Your sister," Jules struggled out, she had grown accustomed to calling Cersei her Queen, "she has been unexpectedly kind…" She bit down on her tongue, holding her words behind her teeth. There was so much Jaime didn't know: Myrcella had been sent off to Dorne, his brother had been wounded in the siege and Joffrey was to marry Margery Tyrell, not Sansa Stark - who had since married Jaime's brother. But was it her place to tell him? No, it could wait. "I was to serve Myrcella," if she left out the truth, it wasn't lying was it? "but Cersei had decided she wanted me for herself, said I reminded her of home." Just as she had with Jaime. It was almost eerie how similar the siblings were. Then again, they were twins.

"How did you escape the brothel?" Jaime asked in disbelief. Every man with an eager cock circulated through Littlefinger's brother, someone must recognize the beauty as one of his whores. Sure, she had been one of the best-kept secrets in King's Landing, but he was sure she couldn't have kept her promise, not after how long they had been apart. Without the coin slipping into Littlefinger's pocket, he was sure she would have had the worst of men forced into his bed - but maybe the payments hadn't stopped?

"Your brother and his sellsword had come for service in the brothel… I had been less the eager," she swallowed hard and did her best to explain the night that had changed her life forever, "he had recognized who I was from the day he had picked me out for you. Paid Littefinger, and brought me to the castle. I guess that's one of the perks of being the Master of Coin, you pay who needs to be paid and they don't ask questions." Especially when you happen to be a Lannister, the most powerful family in Westeros.

"You," Jaime's jaw was slack in disbelief, "you kept our promise?" Green eyes went wide, his only hand reaching out to stroke the woman's freckled cheek. "You waited for me?"

Eyes shut, her face nuzzling into his rough fingertips. Oh, how she had missed his touch. "There has been no one else," she whispered out to him, her head turning to press a gentle kiss to his wrist. When her eyes blinked open, the sun cast its warm rays over Jaime's defeated features. But, within the embrace of sunbeams, she was beginning to see the life of the man she knew radiating through him.

"Julianna," Jaime breathed, melting the girl's heart and her core. He had remembered. She hadn't expected him to, not when she had been nothing more than a sheath for his cock. Yet, with their limited number of nights together they had formed something undeniably special. Something more than a client and his whore. And now, she was a whore no more, she was a handmaiden. A lady in waiting - even unofficially so. A beautiful, young woman who had already flowered - any lord who sought nothing but looks would be asking for her hand. This brought a lump to his throat. He couldn't lose her, not after all he had been through to return to her.

"Each night, the thought of you waiting for me gave me the strength to return to King's Landing," he continued, his words hushed as if Lord Varys were lingering outside his door. It wasn't his dear sister his mind fell upon the nights he was cold and hungry, nor was it his son. Though he did find himself worrying for his daughter, Myreclla, she was far too innocent and pure for the world they now lived in. Tears built up in his eyes, he hadn't been in King's Landing to protect his lover and his daughter. He couldn't feel more relieved to find that they were safe, that Tyrion had done so much to protect their family.

"To find you here in the castle-" Jaime let out a heavy breath, but it quickly caught in his throat as he felt her delicate touch through the rags that encased his frail form. "What are you doing?"

"Undressing you," she answered obediently.

His eyes went wide. "No." It was a firm protest, but she didn't concede. Jaime tried to pull away but was met with disapproving eyes. "Julianna, please," he was near begging her now, "not after all I've been through. Not yet. Please, just draw my bath, and I can take care of the rest."

Her head shook stubbornly, sending her curls cascading down her back. "Your sister gave me strict instructions to attend to you. I will be undressing you, I will be cleaning you, and assuring you are fed. I don't care if I take off your trousers and find that you have no cock. You are my knight-"

For the first time in a long time, a smile split wide over his chapped lips. It stung as flesh was pulled away from itself and he soothed it quickly with the swipe of his tongue. Her knight. As much as he wanted to continue to protest and conceal how his ribs had begun to protrude and the scars left behind by many, he relaxed on the stool and let the freckled blonde loosen the belt around his waist. Delicate hands removed each dirty article until the Kingslayer was left in nothing but his boots and trousers. It was then Jules crawled back from her lover and hummed as she prepared the water for his bath.

Jaime leaned back until his shoulders met the stone wall that concealed them from the rest of the tower. From behind messy golden strands that had tarnished from dirt and oils, he watched as Julianna attended to the fire that heated the water. Her hips swaying as she traveled to and from the wooden tub. Even when she was dressed in some of the city's finest fabrics, there was no hiding the curves he had come to know very well. The sash around her middle captured her tiny waist, and all the silk in King's Landing couldn't hide the massive swell of her ass. If it wasn't for the high neckline of her gown, her breasts would have spilled from its confines with each bend over the cauldron.

Julianna had become accustomed to the work of a handmaiden. Cleaning chamber pots and drawing baths, things she had done for herself long before she had set foot in the prestigious castle. What had proven difficult was being the companion of a queen, but that had quickly become not so different from the girls in the pleasure house. She paced back and forth in the chambers of the knight, filling the tub with steaming water, occasionally checking the temperature with the tip of her finger as it cooled. As welcoming as a hot bath could be, she did not contemplate scolding Jaime. It was the last thing he needed after all he had been through. Once she was satisfied, she hovered over her knight, her hands coming up to rest on the swells of her ample hips. "Boots and trousers," she reminded gently, dropping down to her knees to guide each boot of his feet.

Jaime teetered on his feet, legs tired from their long journey and were made weak by Julianna's gentle touch as she removed his trousers. He stood before her, as naked as he was on his name-day. Overwhelmed, his stomach had jumped high up into his throat. This must have been how sheet felt the first night he had laid eyes on her back in the brothel. Scared of wandering her eyes, and so close to vomiting that he could taste the acid on his tongue. He wasn't the valiant knight that had taken her virtue. Now, he was a defeated man left near skeletal from starvation, and with the loss of his sword hand, he may never fight again. Yet, her bright eyes still gazed upon him with such admiration and longing. Jaime frowned inwardly as he was helped into the steaming bath water - his own sister had looked at him in disgust and they had spent their entire lives together. It had only taken a number of nights for the girl to devote herself to him, and she wasn't running now that he was less of a man than he once was.

The drag of the wooden stool against the floor lured Jaime from his deepest thoughts, earning a slight jolt of his body in the bathwater. The waves splashed against the wooden boards and rippled against his flesh and slowly calmed as he stilled in the bath once more. "Sorry," Jules muttered out, perching herself on the stool just behind his head. Chewing her bottom lip she watched him for a moment, almost unsure of where to begin. Drawing a bath for her queen was much more simple. Put lavender in the bath to infuse the water with its fragrant oils. Brush her golden locks and avoid her subtle advances that rested beneath the water's surface. Reaching for the cup she had used to quench Jaime's thirst, she dipped it into the tub until it had filled with water. With a nurturing touch, she tipped his head back and carefully emptied the cup over his hair. Even when wet, with the dirt flowing down into the bathwater, his strands were matted. "Your hair," her voice broke, unsure how the knight would take such a suggestion, "I-I have to cut it."

Jaime's eyes didn't raise from the water, instead, they shut for a moment and his head nodded. He should have known it was going to come to this, and while he was displeased he remained as still as he could manage while she cut away his lion's main with the straight razor he had once used to keep his stubble at bay. It was when she rounded the tub to tame the beard that had overtaken his jaw that he was forced to hold her gaze. "I'm almost done," she assured, "then I will leave you to rest and get food from the kitchens-"

"No," he protested firmly, "don't go. Not yet." His hand raised, carefully taking hold of the girl's wrist. Carefully, his rough fingertips traveled over smooth skin and traced the bend of her elbow. Beads of water were left in his path on his way to the fabric of her gown. He toyed with the silk between his fingers, and with each slight tug, it became loose at its fasteners. "Many days and nights I have yearned for you, and now here you are," he whispered. Jaime hadn't even imagined making his way into a brothel so soon - he hadn't even trusted Littlefinger to keep the girl for him. Yet, with his brother's wit, his young beauty was all too accessible, all too tempting. He drew her in with sultry eyes, meeting at the lips in a gentle kiss that grew hotter than the water his body was submerged in. For too long he had gone without the embrace of a lover, and his sister - with her disapproving eyes - had further become a less than likely participant. His Julianna, however, would fulfill every primal desire his body yearned for and would cure the ache in his heart.

Relief took the handmaiden, the boldness of her knight hadn't tarnished. He still knew exactly what he wanted and how to ask for it. Maybe his time away had taken less of a toll on him than expected. The steam of the bath rolled over her face as she was drawn in closer to her knight. Her tongue danced with his, feeling his warmth, and was intoxicated by his taste. No one would come looking for them, not even the queen. No one would hear of his return until she was finished with him - until he was finished with her.

Jaime reached as far as he could, gripping at her tiny waist, and guided her into the tub gown and all. At first, the fabric stuck to her ankles, but as she submerged and straddled herself over the lap of her lover the light fabric gathered at the surface. There was no worry of how she would hide the wet fabric once they were through, Julianna had completely succumbed to the love she felt for her knight. If he wanted her, he could have her.

The long, golden, tendrils that hung down her back met the top of the water as it overflowed into the room around them soon became stuck to the flesh of her back. It was one of the few benefits to King's Landing fashion, it made everything accessible to the single-handed Jaime. He wanted to cry out in frustration as he tried to reach out for her with both arms, but could only feel her freckled flesh from beneath one set of fingertips. If he wasn't looking at his mutilated stump at the end of his arm, he swore he could still feel his hand there - reaching out to knit itself in her sprawling locks.

Jules watched as his brows furrowed heavily over stormy eyes, his mouth caught between a frown and a smile as he wanted to enjoy the sight before him but was lost in his sorrow. Delicate hands left their place in the hot bath water and reached up to caress each side of his sculpted jaw. Even now, after imprisonment and many moons traveling home to King's Landing, he was still the most handsome man in Westeros. "Look at me," she whispered, her mind suddenly racing back to all the things Ros had taught her back in the pleasure house - it all seemed so long ago now. Her thumbs traced over shallow cheeks, seeking out the smooth lips that had once graced her skin. She brushed over the lower, tugging it down slightly as she closed the gap between them once more. Fingers crept to the back of his neck, knitting in the short strands of hair that remained. When his tongue extended through parted lips to meet her own, Julianna knew she was on the right track. She wanted nothing more than to help him forget what he had been through, and to remind him who he was: Jaime Lannister, The Kingslayer.

A low groan hummed against the young woman's lips, hinting that she was on the right track. His hand bunched up the fabric that floated at her hip, pushing it towards her until she could feel her skin beneath his touch. It had been far too long since he had been in the company of a beautiful woman - the ease of her walls coming down on his stiffening member earned a guttural groan from Jaime's lips. He should have been expecting it, the pleasure was intoxicating, it had been far too long.


Any concern melted from his face, his body relaxing in the water that had since grown colder. He wasn't any less dirty, but he couldn't be happier to be within castle walls. "Oh how I have missed you, Julianna," he whispered into her hair, his arms wrapping around her middle to keep her near.

Now that she was in the Keep, his desire for her would have to become the best-kept secret in the city - even before fathering his sister's children. At least Ned Stark wasn't around to let any more rumors fester, and his brother Tyrion seemed to be on their side. His sister Cersei however, would be their greatest threat, he had seen the way she looked at the girl; her eyes mirroring his own desire. It was a dangerous game they were to play, one that would jeopardize Julianna's life and his honor - but it was a risk he was willing to take. There were no limitations on what The Kingslayer did for love.