A/N:

So nice to be back :) I forget how much I absolutely love this fandom! Special thanks to all who reviewed the last chapter:
Wombat8 (You make me blush! Thank George for providing the world! I'm just twisting it), Barryium (Hopefully this update wasn't too long! I'm trying to go back to weekly! And Jaime is being callous...I always felt he sort of was. But maybe that's not EXACTLY true...), Guest (Her and Dany is going to be fun. I can't wait either! And as for Jaime...), Laura201112 (thanks!), Bella-swan11 (Cassana's in a rough spot. I need to learn to give this girl a break), and Guest (Oh, um...about that...).

All my readers and reviewers and favoriters are INCREDIBLE. God, I missed this.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything really.

And again, Cass was taken to a boat in the middle of the night, but this time she saw the man's face. This time, it was the Sellsword—Bronn, she thought—and not any flower. She was brought onto the ship with lights and sailors all from Dorne. She learned, very quickly, that the Martells never loved Robert. That the Martells hated the Lannisters and their dogs and wanted a dragon to be on the throne. Cass had interpreted this from Oberyn, but it went deeper and longer than she had ever thought. She was being smuggled, like some precious cargo, all at the off chance that she would be of use to this Daenerys.

But there was a good chance she could just go and be dead. Jaime didn't mince words, and even as the Spider sprung her free from the black cells that night, he didn't try to pacify her and tell her that everything would work out just fine. She was going to Essos, a place she could barely identify on the map. Her life had been so centered on Westeros and the Seven Kingdoms that when Varys mentioned her destination, she had to ask him to repeat it.

"Slaver's Bay."

"…that sounds barbaric."

He told her that the dragon queen thought so too, that she was the breaker of chains. It would be quite a feat to break chains in a land that proudly calls themselves slavers. But she would hold back judgement until she met the girl.

The ship she had boarded was large and fine. The room she was given was dressed in red silks and gold fabric. There was candlelight everywhere and a large feather bed. A metal tub was already filled with hot water. It only caused her to remember how absolutely dirty she was. Cass felt sticky, a film of sweat and grime layering every inch of her skin. She watched as the Sellsword recoiled as he got close to her, dangling the metal key to her manacles before setting her free. The chains collapsed on the wood.

"Thank you." She rubbed her wrists. They were red, inflamed, but nothing terrible. The skin had not broken but there was still a clear streak of dirt across her veins.

"You're what's all the fuss is about, huh? Are you prettier after you washed?"

She stiffened. Not many people were that brash with her. "I'm told I am."

"But you don't think so?"

Cass shrugged. "It's hard to know if someone is judging you for your beauty or your rank. I've been told by many men that I am beautiful—some men who may not even have an interest in women."

"Gods bless those men. More for me then."

She couldn't help but snort at his response. "You're an interesting Sellsword. Most only fight and keep their mouths shut. Did Varys hire you?"

"No, my brother did."

Her eyes caught him at the door, white cloak gone, dressed in grey and black instead of red and yellow. Cass's knees turned inwards, her ankles shaking. She didn't expect her body to react like that, didn't expect the chill to run across her back and her stomach to moan and burn at the sight of him. But then again, she supposed she never expected to see him again. "How much do I then owe to Tyrion?"

Jaime shook his head. He looked worn still, maybe even more so than last night. There was silver threaded through his gold hair, and he moved his hand through it, moved so languidly through the room that Cass felt her whole-body twitch with anxiousness. "You don't owe my family anything."

She cut the space between them in two steps and placed her hands on the light leather armor covering his chest, ignoring the Sellsword and the gentle sway of the boat, only pausing to see if Jaime minded the smell or the dirt she was covered in. He didn't, or at least he made no visible indication that he did, and that was enough for her. Cassana leaned up and in until her lips caught him, dry and aching and so, so desperate. He tugged her, grabbed her, pulled her into his body, hands ripping at her borrowed cloak and hips and cheeks. Jaime moved to kiss her but hesitated.

"Jaime? What…" She knew. He did mind, and she couldn't blame him. She was covered with filth and grime from the black cells. "I know. I'll wash. Are you staying on this boat? Are you…"

"Yes, I'm staying. Not in Essos, Cassana, but I'll take you there."

Heat flumed to her face. "Good. Then we have time."

"Go ahead."

She raised an eyebrow. "Sorry?"

Jaime just held out a hand, gesturing to the tub. Cas then realized that they were alone. Bronn must have excused himself when they were in each other's arms. The heat was pouring twofold now, and Jaime's eyes were too green, almost predatory. "You can go ahead if you wish. Or like you said, I can…"

She pulled the tie to the black cloak and let it pool at her feet. Jaime was silent. He removed the leather gloves from his hands and moved closer to the tub, delicately placing his fingers in. "It's a good temperature."

"I'll have to thank whoever set it for me." She tried to distract herself. She refused to look at him even though she was already mostly bare. She had no fine silks, no jewelry. She did not even have shoes, and even if she did, she would still feel the same—uneasy, exposed. Gingerly, she slipped the thinning dress away from her shoulders, easily stepping out of the dirty fabric. With nothing else, she stepped towards the bath, towards Jaime, and accepted his hand to help her in the tub. The water singed her skin as she sunk into it, letting herself sigh and breathe and relax. Jaime grabbed a rag hanging on the edge of the tub and picked up her left arm. Softly, he ran the fabric up and down her skin, starting slowly until he saw how hard it was for the grime to be removed. He increased his pressure and pace until her skin was raw and red. Jaime remained focused on cleaning, watching his hands move up and down and not her naked body in the bath.

She tried not to fidget under his harsh touch. Cass clenched her jaw and gripped the sides of the tub as he moved to her back. "You…you let me believe I'd never see you again."

The knight didn't respond right away. He scrubbed and scrubbed until her skin was tender and the brown started to dissipate through the water. "I don't intend to."

"Don't?"

"After this. My father thinks I'm going to Dorne."

He had said that to her, loudly too. "Won't he know? When he sees me gone…"

"There is another ship to Dorne, and Oberyn Martell will vouch that I am accompanying back with his paramour. A truce…for almost killing each other."

"Oberyn Martell wants you dead." She shivered as his fingers slipped from the rag and touched her skin. "Why would he…"

"Because I offered to dethrone my children and sacrifice my family."

She shook her head and splashed water with the sudden movement. "Jaime, you wouldn't…"

"I am saving you and sending you to Essos. Let Oberyn Martell interpret that however he wishes." His hands combed through her hair. "You're safe. I want you to be safe."

You want your family safe too, don't you? He was broken. He was just trying to save all the people he loved, but he couldn't. He couldn't do it, and Cass grabbed his wrist. Jaime stopped cleaning her, and edged back. Cass only dragged him closer and turned around. Drops of water flowed down her shoulders, her breast, as she faced him, hands wet and curving down his cheeks and neck. "But what else? I want to know what else you want."

His face was flushed red, a deep, deep crimson igniting his cheeks and neck and making him look almost...shy. "Don't you know?"

She kissed him so heavily, suddenly, that she felt both the abrupt jolt of cold from the air and the flat heat of his kiss in the same blow. Water swarmed around the sides of the metal, and soon, Jaime gripped her sides, his fingers nestled between her ribs, and dragged her up and out. She felt the water drip down the middle of her back, hair dark and matted to her cheeks and shoulders. His mouth felt like hot coal on her slick skin, tenderly imprinting against her lips her, her cheek, her neck. Jaime moved her to the small bed in the room of the rocking ship and stepped back. She felt stunned, like she couldn't breathe, and he was just watching her, calm but so, so red. Cass leaned on her elbows. "Well?"

"Well, what?" He didn't move.

She knew she couldn't ask him. Jaime wouldn't either. He would wait, he would never touch her if everything relied on him and rationality. But they didn't, and Cass was not feeling rational, not feeling anything but utter love and heat and fear. She moved to stand and slowly grabbed his hands. Hesitating, Cass touched his shoulders, touched the buttons of his doublet, and waited for him to stop her. He didn't until she touched bare skin. "Don't…"

"You think I'll regret this, don't you? You think that I'll be ashamed?" She waited briefly for him to answer, but Jaime only looked at her eyes. His were green—they had always been that way—like emeralds or jade or something equally as expensive. But in this light, they looked like the sea. They looked clear and fluid and she thought of Greenstone and the home she never knew. "I won't. I promise you that."

"Are you forgetting who I am?" His eyes fell to her hands combing over his chest, chasing the white lines of scars. "That I'm…"

"A Lannister. Would it be easier if I told you I did? And you could forget who I am too? We could pretend we're just two people who found each other in the night. No history. No families. Is that what you want? Would you like that?"

Jaime shook his head.

"I wouldn't either." And then she kissed him.

It would be an incredible lie to say she wasn't terrified of ships. She was sailing to Essos, passed the Free Cities and where her parents were murdered by water and salt. She was leaving behind the only home she had known to meet a dragon queen who wanted to usurp her dead brother's throne. She was abandoning Stannis, Robb, even some lords of the Stormlands, and she felt the sick sensation of nausea curve its way through her even as Jaime held her.

Jaime…

She was leaving him too. Maybe not now, with him at her back, his hands entwined with her as he breathed against her hair. He was awake—she knew he was. He was awake and afraid to move, and she was too. He would be gone soon, and even if the Targaryen didn't kill her and actually accepted her, she wouldn't be seeing him again. And that was the best-case scenario.

Worse-case was she would see him, and one of them then would have to die.

Cass tasted the salt before she knew she was crying. Jaime stiffened behind her, his naked chest moving away from her even as his hands gripped her fiercely. "You're okay. Cassana, you're okay."

She kept crying. Her voice cracked and she burrowed her chin into her chest, the tears dripping into her mouth.

"I'll go. I'm…"

She grabbed his hands harder and dragged him closer. "No…I don't want you to go. I can't."

Her head spun. She had seen so much death, and now she just felt like it was only a matter of time until she lost another person she loved. Robb's dead too. The thought had her gasping and curling her legs in. Jaime moved closer, wrapped his hands tighter. "It's not enough, Cassana. I know it's not."

She turned to face him, his eyes glossy, his blond hair messy against his forehead. "I don't…I don't need anything else from you. No lands. No children. No marriage." She leaned her cheek against his chest. "You're here and that's enough." For now. You're here for now. And that is all I can have. It'll have to be enough.

The next time she woke, Jaime was already awake again. This time he was dressed and drinking a glass of water.

With his brother.

Cassana jumped up, grasping at the bed sheets to cover herself. Jaime waved a hand. "He hasn't seen anything."

"And even if I did, it would be nothing I am not used to seeing. Though I do believe my brother may make me even shorter." Tyrion's back was facing her. "Jaime, it's just a joke. I'm sure she's lovely. I do like her much more than the last girl."

Tyrion was pushed off his chair, red wine spilling all over the floor.

Cass ignored the last remark. "Isn't it a little early to drink?"

The dwarf rubbed his head. "I thought you'd want one as well, my lady."

That she could agree with. Cassana made to move, but Jaime stood instead, grabbing a robe thrown over a chair. "Here."

She blushed. "Thank you."

It was white and smooth silk. Cass felt achy, exhausted. Jaime helped place the robe over her shoulders, pushing her dark hair over her back. After it was tied and she turned back around, the ship rocked. "Easy there." Jaime grabbed her shoulders and walked her to a seat between the two brothers.

The younger Lannister soon sat himself back on the chair and poured her and himself a glass of wine. He placed a clear vial next to it. "Things could get complicated, but it's your choice."

She took it, not taking the time to gauge Jaime's reaction, and poured the liquid into her goblet. "How…prepared."

"Well, it wasn't intended for you if that's what you're thinking." Tyrion took another sip of wine.

"His whore didn't come with him."

The look Tyrion shot his brother was vicious, biting. Jaime didn't seem the least bit effected, and Cass felt incredibly awkward for reasons that had nothing to do with her being naked. Tyrion's face was as red as the alcohol in his cup. "Do not call her…"

"You would have killed her Tyrion. And father too? If I weren't with you, you would have…"

"She accused me."

"Of what?" Cass looked at Jaime, but Tyrion was not shy.

"Of helping you."

"Helping me…" Cass furrowed her eyebrows. "But why? Why accuse the both of us?"

"You're not aware that my sister hates me?"

Cass only stared. That was no secret to her or anyone in the Red Keep. She imagined the entire Westerlands knew that little whisper. "I can somehow understand siblings going after each other's blood." She wrung her hands together. Family and siblings were not things she liked to discuss with Jaime, but she in some way saw the similarities. Renly and Stannis. Cersei and Tyrion. What she couldn't understand was why Cersei would want Tyrion dead. Yes, their mother died during labor, but what fault of that was his? Tyrion was clever and could be ruthless. Why create an enemy like that from your own kin?

She didn't push it. Both Lannisters looked raw, anxious. And then Tyrion suddenly didn't. His mouth arched into a tiny smirk before saying, "Robb Stark is here."

That was painful and wrong. Jaime had told her flat out that Robb Stark would stay and die and her argument to Lord Varys was weak at best. Her voice was harsh. "Don't mock me with him. I do not want any part of your squabble."

"He's not mocking you, Cass. He's telling the truth." Jaime was livid. "The North is a powerful alliance that the Targaryen needs. You were right about that."

So he isn't dead? She felt cold, sweaty. Cassana gripped the arms of the wooden chair, looking at her wine glass absentmindedly. "He should be sent north, not east."

"So that there can be another King in the North? How would that work with the spider's plans?" Tyrion tapped the table. "I'll answer for you: it wouldn't. It's an offering, Cassana. A gift."

She let the thought sink in. "Tools to create an empire. A Targaryen, a Baratheon and a Stark."

"And Lannister." Tyrion's face was already red with the soft buzz of wine. "You forget how I hijacked a ship with Lord Varys and am smuggling you away to the dragon queen after supplying you with the poison to kill my nephew."

"Half true." Jaime drank his water.

"Jaime is accompanying the Martells to Dorne and is not privy to any of this."

"Jaime should be another Lannister accompanying us to Essos." Cass dropped though neither Lannister chose to pick it up. The wine and swaying motion of the ship was making her light-headed, the room spinning gently as it were a top a spinner. Jaime chugged the remainder of his, sat up, and left. The door to the room slammed on its hinges, the noise causing both Cass and Tyrion to shutter.

Tyrion jostled the goblet in his hand. "You're much better at getting a response out of him than me."

"I don't intend to."

"No? You don't? Then why ask things of him that he can't do?"

She felt the heat rise to her face. Cassana was just so incredibly frustrated. Here they were—in a ship leagues away from the Red Keep and still Jaime wanted to go back. He could come with her, he could be free but still he would go back. The terrible thought itched. "…He loves her still?"

"What? No. Do you know my brother at all?" Tyrion placed the goblet in the center of the table. "He turned his back on our sister the first time he kissed you. He did kiss you I assume?" He waited briefly for a response, but Cass did not give one. "Jaime—though he may not agree with you—is a knight in the strictest sense. He's so damn loyal. You must have noticed that at least. There's a reason why you're here and why I'm here. He loves us."

"He loves his father too."

"Yes, there's that. But he also loves his duty."

"It…hurts him, what he did. He killed a man he was sworn to protect and people hate him for it."

"He wants to be a true knight but those things don't exist in this world—not if you want to keep your head. I prefer the brash Jaime too—that's the Jaime who saved us, who stabbed the Mad King in the back. But it's two sides of the same coin. He's steadfast to us even if it means his death, but he's that way to our family too. It just so happens that family and duty lie in Westeros." He stretched his arms. Tyrion was too drunk too early, and Cass didn't like it. "Besides, to him there's still Robb Stark."

"I don't want Robb Stark." She crossed her arms, sounding and looking more like a child than she intended. She watched as Tyrion Lannister laughed next to her and then swiped his drink, toppling the remaining red wine across the table. "And I will not let you in my company like this. How are we supposed to approach this dragon queen if you're red and bloated?"

"I do not think that'll be the most distracting thing about me."

"If it isn't, I'll find it hard to bend the knee. Show Daenerys Targaryen who you really are, Tyrion. I don't know what happened with your…" Whore. "…consort, but this is a weakness I will not allow." The wine dripped from the table slowly. Tyrion reached to straighten his goblet, but Cassana slapped his hand away. "You're a mess."

"My father was fucking my consort, my lady. Excuse me if I find that a little wine…"

"No." She grabbed at his hand tightly, nails digging into his flesh. "This is a sickness. This is something I have watched my brother suffer from for years." Her grip tightened even more. Tyrion squirmed. "Some would say he died from it. I loved my brother, but he was tired and foolish. You are none of those things. Do you understand me?"

"…Yes."

"Good." She dropped his hand. "We need all the pieces we can get, my friend." She touched his cheek. "I think sometimes we forget how important we are in all this."

A/N:

I apologize for all the setup D: