Valyrian steel, there was no finer ore from which a sword could be crafted. Since the Doom of Valyria, there was no blacksmith left alive who could forage such weapons. Jaime Lannister had always desired such a well-crafted weapon, but his dreams had died with the many wars of Westeros. Yet, here he was with a Valyrian steel blade to call his own. "Magnificent," he near whispered out in admiration. Bright eyes sparkled with fascination only raising from the sword when his father let out a low hum in agreement. It reminded Jaime that he was not the only one in the chamber. "Looks fresh-forged," Jaime then noted aloud out of respect.

"It is," Tywin informed his son.

"No one's made a Valyrian steel sword since the Doom of Valyria-" Jaime spoke out.

"There are three living smiths who know how to rework Valyrian steel. The finest of them was in Volantis. Came here to King's Landing at my invitation."

"Where did you get this much Valyrian steel?" Jaime questioned his father as he pushed the fine blade back into its sheath. This, however, was not an easy task for the man who had lost his dominant hand during his journey home. Angular features distorted with frustration, his wrist twisting and turning until the blade was tucked away completely. A sigh took his body, he could feel the eyes of his father on him and sense the air of disappointment that took the room.

"From someone who no longer needed it," Tywin had a semblance of a smile as he rounded his desk. With his father's words, Jaime came to understand how his sword came to be. Standing across from his father, Jaime's mind couldn't help but race through all those they had conquered. His body tensed as his mind focused on the traitor, Eddard Stark. The vivid memories that came with such recollection forced Jaime into shutting his eyes and fighting them back into the darkness of his mind. When his eyes found the light again, he wore a coy smirk and spoke; "you've wanted one in the family for a long time-"

"-and now we have two."

"Two?" Jaime let his brow raise.

"The original weapon was absurdly large. Plenty of steel for two swords," Tywin explained and edged the sheathed blade in the direction of his eldest son, "and this one is yours, though, you'll have to train your left hand."

Jaime's heart dropped. While he was delighted to be honoured with such a fine sword, the skill he held with his left hand was less than impressive. He, however, would not let this be known to his father. "Any decent swordsman knows how to use both hands," he scoffed, but his father was not convinced.

"You'll never be as good"

"No. But as long as I'm better than everyone else, it doesn't matter," his cockiness overtook him, it was one thing he hadn't lost during his time held captive by the Stark army.

"You can't serve in the Kingsgaurd with one hand," Tywin's voice was stern, a sparkle taking his eyes. He was sure all his work was going to pay off for him now - but it was Jaime's greatest fear becoming a reality. The Kingsgaurd was his life.

"Where is that written?" Jaime ordered, the frustration driving him to the other side of the room - putting distance between himself and his father. "I can and I will. The Kingsgaurd oath is for life."

"The war is over. The King is safe."

A laugh threatened to take Jaime; "The king is never safe. How many people in this city alone would love to see his head on a pike?"

"Other knights protected the King while you were a prisoner. They will continue to do so when you go home," Tywin explained, his words drawing Jaime's attention back to him.

"Home?" Jaime's voice broke. His father didn't expect him to return to Casterly Rock, did he? Tywin's words quickly confirmed what was expected of his son;

"You'll return to Casterly Rock and rule in my stead as my place is here. I don't expect to see the Rock again before I die."

Frustration bubbled inside Jaime. Casterly Rock was not his home, Kingslanding was his home. Here he had served not one but three kings. Both Cersei and Tyrion resided in the Capitol, as well as his children - but above all else, Julianna was Ceseri's handmaiden. They already faced great challenges with Cersei's betrothal to Loras Tyrell, going home to Casterly Rock would only put greater distance between them. He was not willing to give up on Julianna without a fight. "No," he told his father firmly.

"I don't believe I asked you a question," the hand of the king was standing now in an attempt to assert dominance over his son.

"My answer is no. I don't want Casterly Rock, a wife-" Jaime stopped himself just as quickly as he started. For years, the Kingslayer had believed that his love for his sister was the only possible choice. That they belonged together simply because they were brought into the world together. With their short time together, Julianna had proven that to be untrue. He felt like a fool thinking that the situation could leave them on different sides of Westeros. If he could pull the right strings, maybe they could end up in Casterly Rock together.

Tensing, Tywin took slow strides, stopping when he came toe-to-toe with Jaime. "For 40 years I've tried to teach you," his voice managed to remain firm with anger, yet developed somewhat of a fatherly quality. "If you haven't learned by now, you never will. Go. If serving as a glorified bodyguard is the sum of your ambition, go-"

Jaime didn't take the time to protest. Not yet. First, he would gauge just how possible things could be. "I supposed you want the sword back-"

"Keep it. A one-handed man with no family needs all the help he can get," his father's words stung deep into his core, and with his head hanging his Jaime left the tower of the hand.


The fabric had been more beautiful than she could have imagined. In colours from fiery red to indulgent shades of wine from the artisans of Essos. The dressmaker draped each shade over the handmaiden's shoulder, and her breasts. Julianna wrapped her arms around her middle, letting her flesh savour in the fabric's luxurious touch. Swirling in front of the mirror, her gaze found the reflection of Cersei as she lounged on the chaise behind her.

The queen's predatory stare traced over the ample curves of her handmaiden. If it wasn't for the dressmaker and Maester Qyburn, she would have had the girl fashion the swatches naked. Instead, she was forced to settle for having Julianna wear one of Margery's old floozy rags. The neckline was cut low, the support beneath her breasts pushing her cleavage high, and her toned stomach was left bare. "You like this one, yes?" Cersei stood up from her seat, wine glass in hand, and approached the pedestal the beauty stood upon. Hands toyed with the ruby red fabric, pulling it taut over the handmaiden's frame.

Julianna nodded eagerly, her curls becoming tossed over her shoulders and into her face. While she was hesitant around Cersei, as to avoid her blatant advances, serving the queen regent continued to have its perks. Fists took hold of the fabric, clutching it firmly to her chest. The dress would be the nicest dress she had ever worn, after Margery's powder blue dress of course.

"Have this completed for the night before the wed-"

The creek of the heavy door broke the queen regent's words, her eyes narrowing as she glanced towards the door. Jaime, she had been expecting him, but did he have to arrive so soon? She wasn't finished with her handmaiden just yet.

The walk to his sister's chambers from the Tower of the Hand had left Jaime deep in his thoughts. He had been captivated by his father's disappointment, and while he wasn't driven by the need to please him, his priorities had refocused on something greater than himself and the toxic infatuation for his sister that had once consumed him.

Letting himself into the grand chamber, he was met with a sight that had been foreign to him for so long. Not the scowl his sister first dawned, but the softening of her features that followed made his palm sweat. She had always been one to take after their father with his stern nature and desire for power. Yet, Julianna brought forth both her nurturing and predatory nature. Concerned eyes watched as Cersei approached the young woman, her hands cupping the freckled features of her face and stroking smooth tendrils of her hair back into place. "Such a precious girl," his sister cooed, fingertips dragging down to tease the girl's shoulders and the side of her breast before falling back to her sides.

His stomach twisted in knots, and his green eyes were set alight with jealousy at the sight. Jaime had to grip his hand into a fist to prevent himself from revealing his greatest venerability to his sister and Maester Qyburn. He was the only one that was allowed to touch her like that.

Cersei gathered the scrap fabric, dancing in the sprawling lengths of red and gold before stepping up beside her handmaiden and tangling them in it together. The queen had her body pressed firmly against Julianna, the curve of the young woman's ass near brushing against her mound. How she craved to grind against her, how she craved to make her cum-

"Won't she look ravishing in red?" Cersei purred into her neck. Julianna's cascading curls hid Cersei's features as they sought out her supple flesh and placed a careful kiss out of the view of their company. To the rest of the room, it looked as if Cersei was simply fixing her handmaiden's gown. When she pulled back, her eyes focused on her brother, what was that look in his eyes? "Don't you agree, Jaime?"

A lump formed in his throat, Cersei was testing him. Eyes bounced from his sister to her handmaiden as his lips were at a loss for words. Just where did Cersei get the idea that she could get away with that? Everything about his sister being wrapped up with the woman he cared deeply for made his skin crawl. But was he making it that obvious? "Yes," he sounded after a moment, it would be best to appease his sister, "why of course. What is the occasion?"

"Joffrey's wedding of course," Jaime could practically hear the sickeningly-sweet venom in her sister's voice now, "Julianna will be accompanying me to the wedding, and servicing me at the wedding feast. We can't have her dressed in these rags when she will be with me representing the Lannisters."

The colour drained from Jaime's features, but he hid it well behind a smile. Of course, Cersei would be keeping her close, away from the crowd and any man who thought there was a chance he could woo the young woman. The grasp she had on the girl was almost worse than that of Littefinger and his whores - at least he could pay Baelish for her time. Now, Jaime had to compete for Julianna's company and when he had it, it was always in secret. Even though Jaime hoped he could change that with the vow to return to Casterly Rock, he knew Cersei wasn't going to let just anyone take the handmaiden from him.

"Now, run along, dear," Cersei hummed, untangling Julianna from the fabrics - but not without a subtle squeeze of her rear, and dismissing her from the room. "The wedding is only days away, there is much more for you to prepare." Soon, the petite blonde vacated the room leaving Jaime, his dear sister and Maester Qyburn behind.

With the gentle closing of the chamber door, the tension in the room grew strong - the one thing more evident than the discomfort was the knot in Jamie's face. Lowering his vision to conceal his frustration, Jaime approached Qyburn. Sitting across from him, he expected that the older man would be examining his hand to assure it had healed properly; instead, he was presented with a gift from Cersei. To replace the limb lost, in true Lannister fashion, a golden hand.

"A work of art. The craftsmanship is excellent," the maester enthused as he worked the golden hand onto Jaime's stump. The knight's face twisted and scowled in discomfort - it near matched his twin sister's now.

"You like it so much," Jaime scoffed, "you're welcome to chop off your own hand and take it."

It was then the queen regent made her agitation known; "Such an ingrate. I spent days with the goldsmith getting the details just right." The golden lioness was on the prowl, pacing back and forth in front of the desk that divided Jaime from her. Fair brows furrowed together as Jaime took a moment to glance up at his sister. Days? Now that seemed like an exaggeration, even for someone as analytical as Cersei - especially when her hungry eyes had seen so captivated with his Julianna.

Pale eyes remained focused on Cersei, his lips curling to lash out at his dear sister, only for them to be pressed into a firm line at the words of the maester: "There, how does that feel?" The hand was in place. It was a foreign feeling to have such weight pulling on his arm - Jaime had grown used to his hand's absence. His mouth opened to speak, but his sister stole the air from his words.

"Elegant, I think. Thank you for your help with the other matter," Cersei voice, her slender frame taking a step towards the door - a subtle signal that his work with Jaime was complete. Qyburn however, ignored her wordless guide and turned his attention to Cersei. Jaime couldn't help but wonder why his sister sought out the assistance of Qyburn. Before Jaime could question the matter, Cersei persisted; "Symptoms are gone completely. We are in your debt, Maester Qyburn."

Vacating the room, Qyburn left the twins alone in the queen's quarters. With this new degree of privacy, Jaime found the opportunity to speak; "What symptoms?"

Jaime received an inconclusive answer from his sister; "Symptoms that are not your concern." What was she hiding from him? "You let him touch you?" Surprise took him, there were very few men - or so he was lead to believe - Cersei allowed to touch her, one of which used to be himself. In recent times, after his many moons away, Cersei seemed to want nothing else but to be rid of him.

"You jealous?" Cersei quipped, elegant strides carrying her off to her pedestal. Silence fell between them as Jaime pondered - was he jealous? No. What he did know, was that he wanted to keep Cersei from interfering with Julianna. With this in mind, Jamie joined her by her side. If Cersei was focused on him, there would be no time to prey on her poor handmaiden.

While Jamie failed to speak, Cersei took it upon herself to fill the air - reminding Jaime of the hell he forced her through with his absence. After weeks of returning to the comforts of King's Landing, he knew very well about the events that had occurred. Cersei would not let him forget his disappearance, the so-called traumatic death of her husband, Myrcella's betrothal, the Battle of Blackwater, and finally Cersei's own betrothal Loras Tyrell.

Rolling his eyes, he bit down hard on his tongue. Leave it to Cersei to blame all her misfortune on him. Instead of fighting her, Jaime brought forth his own recent conflict, "So... Father disowned me today." The surprise on Cersei's face was almost enough to make him smile - with the gentle part of her lips, he could tell she did not believe him.

"He can't disown you, you're all he's got," she claimed, casting aside herself as well as Tyrion. Her voice strained as she continued to speak; "You don't really plan on staying in the Kingsguard, do you?"

Jamie nodded, his body leaning into his sister; "Staying in the Kingsguard means I live right here in the Red Keep with you..." his words were sultry, hiding every bit of intent he had to leave King's Landing behind. Knowing all too well that Cersei would do everything in his power to stop him.

"Not now," she groaned out, moving away from her dear brother to prevent any advances he may have tried to force upon her.

"I want- Not now? When? I've been back for weeks. Something's changed," Jaime huffed out, knowing very well that his feeling for her had been fading for longer than she could even realize.

"Everything's changed. You come back after all this time with no apologies and one hand and expect everything to be the same?" Cersei pleaded, her hand seeking out a goblet of the finest wine.

"What do you want me to apologize for?" Jaime stood in disbelief.

Her answer was simple; "For leaving me."

Jaime let out a low, sarcastic laugh. If only she knew what he was planning. "You think I wanted to be taken, prisoner? Every day I was a prisoner, I plotted my escape. Every day. I murdered people-"

"You took too long," she cut him off, "now go!"

Her shrill order had Jaime retreating to the door, it was clear to him now what his sister wanted, and he was going to give it to her. Abandoning his sister in her chambers, long strides carried him through the corridors and out into the gardens. Cersei had solidified the seed planted in his head by their father, he would leave for Casterly Rock but first he would assure his efforts wouldn't be unfounded.


The handmaidens flocked behind the cover of the rose bushes, their whispers and giggles lost in the wind. Delicate fingers sought out the soft fabric of the gown that had been once been dawned by the future queen. It's gorgeous. Do you get to keep it? The questions were all rushed whispers, all asked too quickly for Julianna to answer. All she could manage was to laugh but it was all lost with the clank of armour. "-someone's coming."

The girls scurried like rats from the alleyways, their heads down in an attempt to go unnoticed and unreported to their designated lady. Julianna lingered among the flowers a moment, giving the other girls their time to flee before she followed suit. She had become recognized by many as the Queen Regent's favoured handmaiden and many knew better than to ask questions or give her any trouble. Julianna was to return to the keep when the warm flesh of a hand found her mouth, muffling her scream, their arm wrapped firmly around her waist. Her heels dragged against the rocky pathway, failing to find any traction. It was when she was forced back into the cover of the rose bushes she was released. "Please don't…" Stumbling away until she felt thorns digging into her back, her plea was silenced. Her heart that had begun to race desperately, could be put to ease for it was her knight, Sir Jaime.

"My apologies, my dear," Jaime took a step closer to his lover, his hand reaching up to stroke over the supple flesh of her cheek. He hadn't wanted to draw any unnecessary attention, though someone was sure to hear her muffled plea for help. Squaring himself in front of her, he ensured she was out of sight to any who lurked deep into the garden. "I would have tried to be more discrete, but I could not wait to see you - what are you wearing?"

It was hard to ignore the swell of her breast as they tested the confines of the dress's neckline. His eyes continued to travel downward, following the curves of her body to where her toned stomach was displayed from behind an absence of fabric in the bodice. It wasn't traditional handmaiden fashion, nor was it popular among the ladies in the keep - at least not that he had seen. The dress was all too inviting to the eye, and while she was deserving of every bit of attention she acquired, he didn't need any other man thinking she was theirs for the taking.

Her vision dropped, hands smoothing the fabric over her hips. "Lady Margery was to donate her dresses, and your sister claimed this one for me," Jules explained before her eyes rose to meet his once more - but the glint of gold quickly pulled her attention. Bringing both her hands together, she cupped the cold golden hand between her own. "A gift from your sister?"

"It's a bit ostentatious," Jaime muttered, pulled his hand away so that it was resting at his side, "I did not find you to display my new appendage," he fell silent as footsteps grew louder behind them. He only dare speak again when the air grew quiet once more, "I have a proposition."

"A proposition?" Julianna bit down on her full lip, her eyes gazing up at him through thick lashes. What could he need from her? What could he have to offer? She served his sister and has the brain of Tyrion and Jaime's brawn to assure her safety in the keep. The threat of being dragged off to Highgarden remained, but Jules was sure Cersei wouldn't let herself be separated from her children.

"I spoke with my father today, he has asked me to step down from the King's Guard," Jaime extended his arm, stroking the exposed skin on her waist, "and to return to Casterly Rock to rule in his stead." He watched her heart break in front of him.

Sapphire hues grew wide, tears glazing them over like glass and she refused to let them spill. She should have known this moment would come, that duty would call and he would answer. That he would be forced to leave her once more. Her lips split wide into a smile, colour flushing her freckled cheeks; "You will be the Lord, that's wonderful," she truly was happy for him, but her heart ached knowing that he would someday wed a beautiful lady from another noble house of Westeros. Her hands came together in front of her, her fingers knitting together before squeezing tight. She wouldn't let herself cry in front of him-

"It will be," he confirmed, "I had never dreamed of returning home. King's Landing was to be my home, I would live and die here in service to the King. But, I must accept my losses," Jaime looked down at his golden hand, his lips almost falling into a frown, "and I have so much more to gain. Yes, I must leave my family behind, but I have one luxury I will get to take the hand of a beautiful woman. See, my father doesn't know I have chosen to agree to his request as I have one term that must be agreed upon. That term Julianna is that you become my wife."

"Jaime I-" She was breathless. Had his words been true, or had her ears played a cruel trick on her? Why would a lord want to wed a whore? Especially when he could have any woman of his choosing.

The knight stepped forward, his armour clamouring as he closed the distance. Leaning in Jaime's forehead found hers, his lips parting to whisper, "Say yes."

"I can't say no," the tears dripped down her cheeks, her lips left agape in awe. This couldn't be happening. This was every girl's dream.

There was little space between them, Jaime quickly stealing the rest of it as his lips found hers. The kiss had meant to be discrete. A chaste graze against her lips, but he was completely intoxicated by her. He held her firm to him, the gold of his armour cold against her flesh. Fingers gripped at the fabric of her gown. Oh, how he craved to tear it from her. Drawing back, Jaime let himself smile. Things couldn't be coming together more perfectly.

"Tell no one," he whispered, "not until I have it all in order. It won't be without difficulty. My sister-"

"She won't be happy."

"No," Jaime confirmed, "but I won't be leaving King's Landing without you. That I can promise you, Julianna."


Many spoke out his name but it went unheard and unseen by the knight. He had tunnel vision. When he had left his lover in the gardens, he had one mission and one only. To secure his place as the Lord of Casterly Rock, and assure that she would be his bride. The negotiations wouldn't be easy, but he wouldn't falter. With time, his father would agree. It was the only way to assure his legacy.

Jaime entered the hand's chambers without knocking, beyond the door, Tywin became alert. Jaime's presence hardened his features. With the man's strong stance and focus, it appeared to many that he was looking for a fight. He, however, was seeking victory through another course. His father planted the seed of success. "I will leave the Kingsgaurd," Jaime declared and watched as Tywin's features were overtaken with pride, "there will be conditions I ask to be met but I need only one answered now at this moment."

"Name it," Tywin smirked - Jaime knew that with his father's satisfied tone, he would do anything to have him as Lord of Casterly Rock.

"Julianna, Cersei's handmaiden," Jaime swallowed hard, "she will be the lady to serve at my side."