Author's Note: Thanks again for all the amazing reviews you guys have given me. It makes me so glad that you all enjoy reading this story so much, because it's very special to me. So obviously I didn't get up the new chapter last weekend like I wanted, and I'm really sorry about that because I did want to post the next update more quickly than this. But life just keeps getting in the way. Anyhow, here is my new chapter where we get to meet up with Jaime again. I had a bit of a hard time figuring out the exact sequence of events for this chapter, so that was something else that added to the delay, but I'm pretty happy with how it turned out. Hope you all enjoy reading it!

He couldn't sleep. Jaime had tossed and turned to no avail before finally conceding the fact that he was fighting a losing battle. Throwing off the stifling covers in irritation, he abruptly rose from his sleeping pallet on the cold ground of his tent before striding over to the makeshift desk at the opposite end of the small space. After lighting a small candle to illuminate his surroundings, Jaime seated himself before burying his golden head in his hands with a groan of frustration.

He had never had much trouble finding sleep in the past, even when a captive of the bloody mummers with a freshly severed hand hanging round his neck or when warming the dreary dungeons of Riverrun, but now in the quiet solitude of his own tent, Jaime could not shake the nagging feeling of anxiousness that kept him from the sweet dreams of slumber. As he lifted his head, his tired gaze caught sight of the crumpled letter he had tossed there earlier before attempting to retire for the evening, Cersei's letter.

In the months Jaime had been absent from the capital, his sister had managed to find herself buried in a cesspool of intrigue and betrayal that not even she with all her cleverness could manage to escape. Jaime would have felt some sympathy for her, but he suspected that the trap in which Cersei had found herself ensnared was one of her own making. He frowned as he continued to stare at the offending letter, trying to picture his twin's face. He had spent so long trying to forget her that it took some time to put all the right features in place to form an accurate memory.

Jaime gave a short laugh at the sudden realization that he was having difficulty recalling his sister's face, the sound bitter and harsh in his dark, quiet surroundings. There was a time when he would have died for Cersei, gladly traded his last breath to keep her safe from harm. But that time was no more. Others had tried to warn him against the woman Cersei truly was, but he had stubbornly refused to listen to them. Instead, clinging with blind faith to the belief that his sister loved him as deep and true as he loved her. He had been a great, golden fool just as Cersei said.

She's been fucking moon boy for all I know. Tyrion's cruel words echoed in Jaime's mind and his mouth tightened in response to the unpleasant memory. After he had released Tyrion from the dungeon's of the Red Keep, some insanity had taken hold of Jaime, prompting him to confess to Tyrion the truth about his brother's little wife, the crofter's daughter. The truth about how she truly had been what she claimed and not a whore as their father had accused. Tyrion had repaid Jaime's honesty with anger, but the little lion's words about Cersei hadn't wounded Jaime as greatly as his hatred. The little brother he had always loved, despised him now. Jaime supposed he should simply be grateful he had managed to escape their father's unpleasant fate at Tyrion's hands. The morning after Jaime had released Tyrion from the dungeons, Tywin Lannister was dead and his imp son vanished from the city. Jaime had heard nothing of Tyrion since.

As Jaime continued to contemplate the letter lying crumpled and dejected before him, he recalled Cersei's anger as he had once again refused her request to become Hand of the king after their father's death. Jaime was no politician, he was a soldier, and he made certain to waste no time before departing the city to once again take command of his family's forces. Cersei's anger had saddened him at first, but after he had heard the confirmation from their cousin Lancel's lips of her unfaithfulness, he was less bothered by the falling out between them.

Jaime reluctantly reached towards the letter and flattened it out once again, running his left hand across the page to smooth away the creases while he read the dark scrawl of words that stood out in sharp contrast against the yellowed page. Cersei had been imprisoned by the High Septon for charges of treason and she begged Jaime to return to the city to act as her champion in a trial of combat. As Jaime contemplated the words, he waited for even a vague sense of dread or panic to settle over him, but he felt nothing. Nothing but a vague sense of pity for the sister who had finally found herself caught in her own web of deceit and lies.

Shoving the letter away in frustration, Jaime considered complying with the request that he return to help her. He might not be fool enough to fancy himself desperately in love with her as he once was, but she was still his family. While he continued to stare at the letter in indecision, he was distracted by the sound of someone entering his tent. Shooting an annoyed glance at the interloper who had interrupted his solitude, Jaime found his squire watching him with an anxious gaze.

"Yes, Peck, what is it?" Jaime shot at the young man, anxious to be alone with his thoughts once again.

"M'lord, there's a lady in the camp" the young squire informed him with a scandalized whisper. "She's demanding to see you."

The boy had Jaime's attention now. "Did this lady give you a name?"

"No, m'lord" the boy replied with a shake of his head. "I asked her to wait 'till the morning to see you, but she won't hear of it. She claims you will want to see her. I think you should see her, m'lord. She's threatened to start cutting off all our heads until you do."

Jaime's smile of anticipation at the news of his unexpected visitor suddenly morphed into a frown at that last bit of information. "Would you describe the woman as beautiful, Peck?"

The boy's freckled nose scrunched up in distaste at the question. "Oh no, m'lord."

"Is she traveling alone?" Jaime then asked, hoping the question would be answered in the negative.

"Yes, m'lord."

That feeling of dread Jaime had been waiting for was suddenly upon him. "Show her to me at once" he ordered in a tight voice that betrayed his sudden alarm.

If the boy was surprised by Jaime's rare show of emotion, he hid it well. Quickly, he bowed in compliance with the order before silently backing out of the tent to bring the woman to Jaime. After the squire was gone, Jaime hurriedly rose to dress himself before his visitor was shown in. Roughly pulling a woolen tunic over his head, Jaime tried to stop himself from imagining the worst. Brienne's sudden appearance without Amarah by her side could mean any number of things.

While Cersei's face had been difficult to conjure up after so many months away from her presence, Amarah's beautiful features instantly sprung to Jaime's mind as readily as they did every night he closed his eyes before drifting to sleep. The little dark-haired princess had haunted his thoughts constantly since he last saw her in the capital. Jaime had suspected that it would be difficult, letting her go, but he never could have anticipated the pain her absence would inflict on him. In the darkest hours of the night, he would dream of her, of her pleasured cries and tempting kisses, only to awaken and discover once again that it had all been a dream. She was just as lost to him as before.

When Peck had mentioned that a lady was there to see him, Jaime had immediately assumed that Amarah had found him once again, only to be disappointed by the news that it was in fact Brienne of Tarth that sought an audience with him, not his princess. That disappointment was followed swiftly by worry at the thought of why Amarah's faithful body guard would be separated from her mistress for any reason. Jaime had yet to meet a more loyal knight than Brienne. For her to leave Amarah's side to seek him out, the situation must be dire indeed. Jaime refused to even contemplate any other alternative for Amarah's failure to appear.

After a few moments of waiting for the wench in tense silence, Jaime's ears were finally greeted by the sound of someone else entering his tent. He turned quickly to address the woman, but his words were stopped short by the sight of her face. She had always been rather unfortunate looking, Jaime recalled, but now her ugly face was marred even farther by the sight of an angry looking wound covering the right side of her freckled cheek.

Jaime's anxious worry over Amarah was momentarily forgotten at the sight of the wench's unsightly wound. "Did you have a disagreement with an angry horse?" Jaime asked without thinking, regarding the wound which closely resembled that of an animal bite.

Brienne instantly shot him a fierce scowl which he was so accustomed to seeing on her ugly face. "One of the mummers did this to me" she explained before gesturing to her face with an angry swipe of her large hand. "We encountered a band of them at an inn at the Crossroads five nights past."

"What happened?" Jaime asked almost dreading the reply.

Brienne took a deep breath as if preparing to tell the tale of a lengthy battle before giving him a reply. She explained how she and Amarah had encountered a small band of mummers before they were attacked. They would have most likely been killed if not for the interference of some other men who had promptly taken her lady captive after the struggle was ended.

"She told me to run before we were all taken captive. She said if I found you that you would help her." Brienne finished the tale with a skeptical look that indicated her doubt of Amarah's belief that Jaime would help her. Jaime didn't bother to grace the woman's skepticism of his loyalty to Amarah with a response, as he was too relieved from her confirmation that Amarah was well and alive when she had last seen her.

"We'll leave at once" Jaime answered at once in response to Brienn's tale before preparing to leave the tent to inform his men that they were moving camp.

Brienne's harsh voice quickly halted his movements. "What do you plan to do, Kingslayer? March into their camp with hundreds of soldiers. If those men see us coming to slaughter them, they'll no doubt slit my lady's throat before giving you the pleasure of rescuing her. We must go alone."

"Do you think me some green solder or simply a fool, wench?" Jaime bit out, rounding back to glare at her with a fiery, green gaze. "I am well aware we cannot march my men into that camp to free her, but I'll not leave them here when they can still be of some use. They will station themselves a few leagues from the inn where you left the princess, and we will continue on alone. In order to negotiate the release of a hostage, it's always best to have an army as leverage in the bargaining."

Brienne still looked doubtful of Jaime's plan, which did nothing to lessen his irritation with her. "These men don't seem like the type to listen to reason" she warned him.

"Then we'll kill them in that case" Jaime answered with an unconcerned shrug.

After voicing his solution, Jaime noticed Brienne's gaze quickly flicker over the golden hand that he now wore strapped to the stump on his right arm. Instead of the anger he would have felt months before at her skepticism, now he only felt a faint prick of annoyance.

"Don't be fooled by the missing hand, wench. I've learned well enough how to kill men with the left."

"For my lady's sake, I pray that your confidence is not misplaced" Brienne replied.

Jaime returned her assessment of his claim with a grim smile. "Let us hope not."

As he turned once more to leave, he caught sight of Cersie's letter still lying on the desk where he had left it before Brienne's interruption. Brienne must have noticed the direction of his gaze, because she moved closer to the desk to glance over the missive that had lain forgotten in the face of her news regarding Amarah. Jaime saw a small frown form between her blonde brows after she finished glancing over the note, and she turned to regard him with a confused expression.

"What of your letter?" she questioned him softly, as if fearing the response.

Jaime wasted no time in replying. "Burn it."

He barely registered Brienne's look of surprise before quickly exiting the tent. Amarah needed his help, and he didn't mean to fail her.

So not too long of a chapter. Basically the beginning of this one was my information dump of all the important events I skipped over in book four because I didn't want any readers to be lost or confused who haven't read the books. Hopefully, you all still enjoyed it though. Next chapter: the reunion:) Let me know what you all think. I love reading all your lovely comments. Until next time! (Which hopefully won't be too long:)