Author's Note: Thanks for all the wonderful reviews and alerts and favorites, etc.! Love scenes take me a bit longer to get right cause I tend to focus more on the "choreography" of it if you will, instead of describing every part in explicit detail. So I'm glad you guys enjoyed it. Despite the sweet action though, don't make the mistake in thinking they're in love. Still a lot of obstacles to go through before those feelings will materialize, but I look forward to developing the newfound appreciation they have for each other. But it's not love…yet. I really meant to update yesterday after all your great reviews but I had a minor emergency with my dog:( So sorry it didn't go up as soon as I wanted, but everything's good now so I can post the new chapter today. Enjoy! (Warning: There is a little bit of adult content near the beginning since it reflects on what just occurred between Amarah and Jaime, but from her perspective this time.)

She hadn't meant to kiss him. Well, truthfully, she hadn't meant for any of what had just happened to occur at all, but after he had told her the truth about his betrayal she had been overcome by the strangest feeling. As she looked at him, she felt as if the man before her were an entirely different person. It was madness of course, but Amarah couldn't escape the overwhelming feeling that the man sitting there wasn't the same person she had known for nearly half her life. This man was a stranger to her. A man she didn't know or understand. He wasn't the man who had been tainted by the bitch queen's touch or the knight who had mocked her so mercilessly over the years. This Jaime Lannister was unknown to her.

She never would have touched the other Jaime. But this one who had called out to her in his delirium when he heard her scolding him for failing to live, this one who waited for her belief in a story that painted him, not as the monster others believed him to be, but a savior of the realm, this Jaime she wanted to help. This Jaime she wanted to heal. When she had first moved towards him she had only intended to wash him as she had said, but when she felt him, how he had responded to her touch, she couldn't help herself. He had been through so much pain and he had overcome it. She wanted to be the one to give him even the smallest moment of pleasure.

At first, when she began caressing him she half-expected for him to push her away, but he didn't. He just sat there, frozen like a statue, and watched her movements as she slowly seduced him into pleasure. Amarah had never touched a man like that before. She knew Jaime believed her to be some sort of whore who doled out her pleasuring charms to get what she wanted, but it was a lie she had let him believe because she hadn't cared enough to correct him. Despite her lack of experience though, she possessed a basic knowledge of how to give pleasure.

Amarah had once interrupted a handmaid in her palace bedchamber fucking one of the castle's squires. The handmaid had pleaded with her not to punish them, but in return Amarah had demanded that the girl tell her all she knew about the different ways to please a man. Amarah wanted to know what it took to hold such power over men as Cersei did because she had wanted that power too. The girl had told her many things, including how to caress that instrument between a man's legs where he felt the most pleasure. Amarah had never put the knowledge into practice before, but with Jaime sitting before her in that moment, a beautiful, golden temptation, she couldn't resist.

Her movements had been tentative at first, but he didn't seem to care. When she heard his groan of satisfaction, it had given her more confidence as her grip became more sure and quick. She had let his pleasured response act as her guide. After she had pressed the soft kisses to his jaw and whispered her belief of his tale in his ear, he had suddenly decided to give the pleasure as well as receive. She had resisted at first. This was supposed to be about his needs. She didn't want him to hold the power of pleasure over her as well, but when she saw the naked want in his eyes, she had been powerless to refuse him.

Jaime's kiss had been intoxicating. His mouth felt soft and inviting, and she didn't fight him when he pushed his velvety tongue past the barrier of her lips. For a man with such an acid tongue, he had a surprisingly sweet taste. Amarah didn't really know how to kiss as Robb had been the only man she had ever allowed to touch her in such intimate way, but Jaime didn't seem to mind. He simply took what he wanted while she was helpless to resist. His tongue invaded her mouth and imitated the stoking and caressing motion of her hand below. After a few moments of indescribable pleasure, she couldn't resist the temptation to suck on his tongue as if it were a rare treat. It had felt deliciously sinful, and he must have thought so too, for soon after he went rigid in her arms as her touch finally brought him to fulfillment.

She had broken the kiss then to watch his face while he was in the throes of intense pleasure. It was a welcome contradiction to the constant pain that had been imprinted there for the last three days while she watched him lie sick and helpless in that little bed. She much preferred him like this. His handsome face looked much more appealing etched in pure bliss rather than unbearable pain. After he came down from his pleasured high, they sat in quiet stillness save for the sound of his heavy breathing. Amarah gave him a few moments to recover before deciding to break the silence.

"Who shaved you?" she asked softly, trailing her fingers across his face. His jaw had the freshly scraped look of a recent shave. She would have noticed it before had they not been distracted by other things.

Jaime didn't answer at first as the focused light slowly seeped back into his eyes. When he finally comprehended her question, he absently covered her small hand that tickled the skin of his jaw with his much larger one. "The maester did it for me. I think he was afraid I might cut my throat when I attempted to do it myself."

"Well thank the seven for that. Your face is much too handsome to be hacked to pieces with a razor" she said with a humorous smirk before withdrawing her hand and taking the opportunity to slip off his lap.

She noticed he made no attempt to keep her there, but she didn't mind. She wouldn't have stayed had he asked. As pleasing as the moment between them had been, it also felt dangerous to let him know her in such a personal, intimate way. She felt safer putting the comfortable distance between them, and he must have felt the same.

Though Jaime made no effort to pull her back, he regarded her with an unsure expression before speaking. "I don't usually take such pleasure without giving the same favor in return."

That reminder of his amorous activities in the past served to quickly temper her passion as she thought of the woman he shared them with. "Why don't we avoid talking about what you usually do when fucking" she suggested with a tight smile. "I assure you, I'm very well as I am. Also, I think we should be going now in any case. I doubt Roose Bolton likes to be kept waiting."

Jaime didn't look as if he was prepared to let the subject go, but she didn't care. As pleasing as the experience had been for the both of them, she wasn't eager to repeat it, and she didn't wish to discuss it any longer. Turning her back on his disgruntled expression, she climbed out of the bath to fetch her towel. She heard the splash of water as Jaime climbed out as well but didn't turn around as she continued to dry off. Her knees were a bit sore from kneeling over him on the hard stone, but that pain was rather insignificant in comparison to the pain which had caused the many bruises that spotted her skin.

Once she finished drying, she pulled the borrowed dress from the maester over her head, and it slipped easily into place. After wearing roughspun wool for so many days, it felt wonderful to have luscious silk on her skin once again. The dress was in surprisingly good condition despite the fact that a woman had not been present as mistress of Harrenal for some time. Though it smelled a bit musty, there were no holes or tears, and the color of midnight blue suited her dark hair and light complexion rather well.

Once she finished dressing, she turned to look at Jaime who was struggling to get into his clothes. Her heart went out to him at the pained expression on his face. He hadn't called to her for help, but after her dismissive behavior moments before that didn't surprise her. Besides, she knew the need to ask her help for such a basic task probably rankled his valuable sense of pride. Not waiting to ask permission, she approached him quietly and quickly so as not to afford him the chance of once again refusing her help.

"Give them to me" she said reaching out for the woolen breeches he was holding in his hand. He had managed to somehow pull on the roughspun smallclothes, but he seemed hopelessly lost as to the rest of it.

He set his mouth in a stubborn line at first in answer to her demand but finally relented with a disgusted sigh at his ineptitude. She took the proffered breeches without a word and bent down so he could step into them. This action put her face directly in front of the region of his person that had held such fascination for her only minutes ago. She quickly tried to brush the unbidden thought from her mind but still felt her face heat ever so slightly when she recalled how virile and alive he had felt in her hand. When she stood once again, she could see from the amused glint in his eye that he had noticed her discomfort.

"Something wrong, Princess?" he questioned in a voice full of false innocence. It seemed her apparent discomfort had helped to diminish some of his.

She returned his amusement with a haughty expression as if she didn't know to what he was referring. "No. Do you wish to continue teasing me or shall I finish dressing you?"

He gave her a slight scowl at the reminder of his need for her help, but he wouldn't be dissuaded. "Come now, Princess. Do you mean to act as if nothing occurred between us just now?"

"Do you mean to tell me you're no longer in love your sister?" she asked in a hard voice.

The reason she had touched him so intimately before was that she wanted to see him in a moment free of suffering or shame, not because she wanted to take him as a lover. She would never take a man inside herself while his thoughts were of another woman. She would never demean herself in such a way.

His silence at her question was answer enough. She gave a disappointed shake of her head at his reluctance to see the truth about his sister. For such an intelligent man, he was a damn fool when it came to Cersei. She shouldn't have been so disappointed at his foolishness. After all, how could she allow him to know her so intimately when she still loved Robb? Despite the fact that he would never be hers, she still carried him with her in her heart. The moment between her and Jaime had been wonderful, but it couldn't happen again. She could be his friend she supposed, but that was all. It was foolishness to think they could ever be anything more.

"Then we have nothing left to discuss" she said quietly before helping him to finish dressing.

They said nothing else after that. Once Amarah had finished lacing up the leather jerkin the maester had provided for him, she reached to look at the stump on his hand to see if it was still healing properly. When Jaime saw what she intended, he quickly jerked the arm out of her reach. She looked at him in confusion as to why he would deny her the chance to look over his wound, but when she looked into those green eyes, she found the shame at his deformity lurking there.

"I'm a broken man, Princess" told her with ill-concealed bitterness in his voice.

He looked away from her then, but she reached out to grasp his chin and force his gaze back to hers. "If that's the case, then find a way to put yourself back together."

He gave a harsh sounding laugh at her suggestion. "And how would you propose I do that?"

"I don't know" she answered back with a small shrug. "You're an intelligent man though. I'm certain you'll think of a solution."

He didn't say anything in return, but she could see he was considering her words. Perhaps there was some way he could once again become the knight he used to be. He might not have his hand, but he still retained his warrior's spirit. As he stood there thinking over what she said, Amarah suddenly recalled the necessity for haste.

"I do believe Lord Bolton still expects us to join him in the Kingspyre" she reminded him to regain his wandering attention.

Jaime's pensive look turned to one of resignation at her reminder of their dinner with Bolton. "Yes, I suppose he does. After you, Princess" he offered opening the door of the bathhouse to let in the cool night air. "Let's not keep Lord Bolton waiting."

Sorry to disappoint if you thought there was gonna be a lot of lovin' from this point on. Jaime and Amarah aren't going to make it that easy on us:) I'm not trying to be mean. I promise! Drawing out the relationship will make for a more satisfying result in the end. You'll see:) Just think of it this way, that spicy little encounter is just a small preview of better things to come:) Let me know what you think! I love hearing from y'all.