Author's Note: Thanks so much for the amazing reviews! Since y'all got me past the 300 mark, expect those three new updates this week. Here's the first one! I decided to take a little break from all the action for just a few chapters to take some time to focus on Jaime and Amarah's relationship with one another and how that continues to change and evolve. In a couple chapters we'll get back to the plot-based stuff (and the addition of Sandor Clegane), but first, I just wanted to take a bit of a breather and focus more on the romance. I hope you all enjoy it!
Amarah's strength managed to last long enough for her to mount Jaime's horse as they rode away from the Brotherhood's camp, but it promptly deserted her less than half a league into the journey. Her last memory was of Jaime ordering her to close her eyes and get some much needed rest. She must have yielded to the advice, because the next thing Amarah knew, she was cracking open her heavy lids to find herself in a strange room, tucked between the sheets of a comfortable bed with a cheery fire burning steadily in the hearth a short distance from where she lay.
The sound of a soft snore interrupted Amarah's inspection of her new surroundings, drawing her attention to a sleeping figure at the foot of the bed. Amarah's mouth turned up in amusement at the sight of Jaime sleeping soundly in a small, cramped chair with his golden head propped up at an awkward angle on his left hand. Trying not to disturb the sleeping knight, Amarah pushed herself up into a sitting position to better observe him, but couldn't stop the soft groan that escaped her lips as her abused muscles screamed in protest at the sudden movement.
At the sound of her distress, Jaime instantly jerked awake, his head snapping up with surprising force before the hand he had been using as a pillow reached for his sword that now lay beside him on the rough, wooden slats of the floor beneath their feet. Once he seemed to realize they were in no immediate danger, Amarah saw him visibly relax before turning his emerald gaze fully on her.
She gave him a weak smile before licking her dry lips in preparation to speak. "Thirsty" was the only word she was able to manage, but he quickly understood.
Moving from his chair to the pitcher of water on a wooden stand against the wall, Jaime poured a generous amount in a goblet nearby before approaching her with the offering. Amarah quickly reached out for the precious bounty before practically tearing it from his hands and raising it to her parched lips. She took several deep gulps of the sweet, cool liquid, closing her eyes in rapturous bliss as the cool water slid easily down her dry, aching throat. Once her thirst was finally sated, she lowered the cup from her mouth and returned it to his waiting hand.
After she handed him the cup, Amarah felt Jaime immediately snake his hand around her extended arm before it could retreat. Amarah noticed an angry spark in his gaze and looked down to see him glaring at the deep cuts and lacerations around her wrists that testified to her poor treatment at the Brotherhood's hands.
"This needs to be tended to" Jaime informed her abruptly before spinning on his heel to open the door of their small chamber.
She heard him shout an order for some brandy and linen, and the order was quickly followed by the sound of loud scuffling as others hurriedly moved to fulfill the command. A few moments later, Jaime closed the door once again with the requested items in his hand before returning to seat himself on the edge of Amarah's small bed.
Once he was comfortably seated, Jaime held out his hand for her to give him her injured wrists. "Is this going to be painful?" Amarah questioned him with a suspicious gaze, a bit hesitant to obey the silent command.
"Yes" he answered bluntly. "But it's necessary to keep your wounds from festering. Better to experience a small amount of pain now than a great deal of it later."
Amarah gave a small sigh of resignation before reluctantly placing her arm in his outstretch hand. Holding her wounded wrist over a bowl he had retrieved from the stand by the wall, Jaime uncorked the flagon of brandy and poured half the contents over her abused skin. It felt like the flames of an open fire licking the surface of her skin, and Amarah felt her eyes instantly burn with unshed tears at the searing pain.
"Gods!" she hissed through teeth clenched in agony. "That fucking hurts!"
Jaime flashed her an apologetic smile before patting the skin dry and slowly wrapping one strip of linen around her wrist. As he worked in silence, Amarah tried to take her mind off the discomforting pain by concentrating on him. When he had rescued her in the woods, she hadn't been allowed the time to inspect him as closely as she wished. Now in the blazing light of the fire, she was afforded a much better view than the evening before.
His beautiful, golden hair had returned to its previous glory, the long strands glittering like spun gold in the soft glow of the room. He wasn't as lean now. His cheeks were no longer gaunt and hollow as they were when they had last parted. Now he looked healthy and strong, much as he had before his imprisonment in Riverrun. As Amarah continued to study Jaime's face, he suddenly looked up, catching her curious gaze.
Never ceasing his tender ministrations, he gave her a wicked smile. "See something you like, Princess?"
"Perhaps" she answered with a vague smile, before dropping her gaze to the golden hand strapped to his right arm. "A golden hand for the golden knight?" she questioned him with a raised brow.
"It seemed fitting for a Lannister, and I recalled the advice of a certain princess who instructed me to put myself back together" he offered with a slight smirk before returning his attention to the task at hand. The linen was now wrapped securely around her wrist, and he placed it gently in her lap before reaching for the other.
"You seem to have accomplished that task rather well" Amarah managed to say before he poured the rest of the brandy over her other wrist, causing her another hasty intake of breath at the sharp discomfort.
A few moments later, the pain had subsided enough for her to speak once again. "What happened after we left the camp?"
Jaime took a brief moment to place the empty jug on the floor and wrap the other wrist as well before answering her question. "We rejoined my men who were stationed close by and returned here to the inn. I thought a bed might be more comfortable for you than a sleeping pallet on the ground of a tent. You awakened briefly when we moved you from my horse. It was enough time to force a small bit of broth down your through before you promptly lost consciousness again."
Amarah furrowed her brow in confusion at that information. "I don't recall waking up. The last thing I remember we were on your horse riding under the cover of the stars. I feel as if I've been asleep for days."
"You've been asleep for two days" he informed her.
Amarah's eyes widened in horror at that news. "Two days? You allowed me to lie here for two days when we should have been riding to the Saltpans? Even now we're losing precious time. We must leave as soon as possible."
With these words, Amarah moved to push him away but he quickly caught her shoulders in a fierce grip and pushed her back against the soft pillows of the bed. "You're not going anywhere, Princess, until you've recovered some of your strength" he told her with a stern expression. "We'll stay one more night at the inn before we ride. If Clegane is still truly alive as you say, I doubt he'll be going anywhere, so there's no need to act hastily."
"Did you forget our bargain with Stoneheart?" Amarah asked him with an angry glare, trying in vain to dislodge his tight grip which kept her pinned tightly against the soft mattress of the bed. "We only have twenty days to return with Sansa, and now we've lost precious time."
Jaime leaned in even farther then, pressing his face close enough to hers so that their noses were almost touching. Instead of the irritation Amarah expected to see in his gaze, she saw a surprising flash of fear there instead. "I said we're staying here, Princess, and that's final" he practically growled the order at her. "Until I'm certain you can mount a horse without falling prey to exhaustion and ill-health, we stay here. You've no hope of fulfilling the bargain if you don't take the time to recover. I've seen men go into battle who thought themselves ready, but fate knew better. You'll not make the same foolish mistake."
Knowing he was right, Amarah rewarded his sound reasoning with a look of resignation and didn't argue the point any further. Once he was satisfied she would give him no more trouble, Jaime started to move away from her once again, but just as he was about to leave her, a sudden impulse prompted Amarah to grab his retreating shoulders, gripping him tightly to her. Jaime's gaze flickered to hers with a confused look, but he made no further attempt to move away.
"What is it, Princess?" Jaime asked, moving his golden hand to push a few stray locks of hair off her forehead. "Afraid you might lose me again?"
"Yes" she whispered back, almost too quietly for him to hear. She hadn't realized the truth of it until he spoke the words aloud.
After her soft admission, something shifted in Jaime's gaze. Gone now was all trace of anger and fear. In its place a burning need. The same consuming want Amarah felt buried deep within her bones. Without taking any time to think, she quickly moved her hands to grip the collar of his woolen tunic before pulling him down to meet her eager mouth. Jaime offered no resistance, and soon his lips were sealed tightly over hers.
For Amarah, Jaime's kiss was like being offered a drink of life-giving water after months of wandering helpless and lost in the dry desert waste. Forgetting her bandaged wounds, she snaked her arms around Jaime's neck, burying her fingers in the thick strands of his golden hair as he continued to kiss her with a savage hunger. Jaime opened her lips then with a bold stroke of his tongue, and she readily accepted the welcome invasion. There was no finesse in their kiss, no delicate precision. They simply consumed each other with raw, passionate need. Amarah had never needed anything so desperately in her life as she needed this kiss.
As she parted her teeth to allow him deeper access to her mouth, Amarah heard him give a low growl deep in his throat as he took full advantage of the offering. Eagerly, she twined her tongue with his and sucked daintily, clinging to his mouth with trembling lips. She felt her whole frame rack with shuddering need when he slid his hand against the mattress under her buttocks, lifting her up to cradle the evidence of his desire. The blood roared in her veins as he pressed her to him, her body arching into his, creating an exquisite friction. She wanted more, needed it all.
Just then, the door of the chamber opened, the click of the heavy latch instantly dousing their passion like a barrel of icy water. Instantly Jaime released his grip on Amarah and promptly stood, striding to the opposite end of the room keeping his back to her. From his rigid stance, Amarah assumed he was just as frustrated as she at their thwarted kiss. Turning her attention from Jaime, Amarah looked to see who had interrupted their blissful interlude. At the door, stood Brienne with a ruddy shade of red covering her freckled skin.
"Impeccable timing, wench, as always" Jaime groused to the wall in front of him. Without turning to look at Amarah, he quickly strode from the room, shooting one last command over his retreating shoulder. "See that the princess gets some rest. We leave for the Saltpans day after next."
With that he was gone, leaving the two women alone in the deafening silence. For a few moments, neither of them spoke. Both unsure of what to say. Finally, Brienne's voice sounded in the quiet space. "Forgive me, my lady. I did not know…" She trailed off, leaving the rest unsaid.
Amarah took a deep breath, trying to calm the erratic beat of her heart before addressing her lady knight. "Don't fret about it, Brienne" she replied with a tight smile. "The next time I'm engaged in a tryst, I'll be sure to bolt the door."
"I think that would be wise, my lady" Brienne agreed readily. Eager to move on to another subject, she lifted the tray in her hands as explanation for her interruption. At the sight of food, Amarah's stomach rumbled loudly and she promptly forgave Brienne for her ill-timed entrance at the sight of glorious food.
Once the tray was in her lap and Brienne had left her to eat in peace, Amarah's thoughts turned to Jaime once more. She could no longer deny that her feelings for him went deeper than mere physical attraction, but the knowledge of his love for Cersei constantly lurked in the back of her mind, hanging over her thoughts like a dark shadow of doubt. How could she ever let herself love a man who had already given his heart away to someone else?
Giving a mournful sigh at her foolishness, Amarah quickly sent up a silent prayer to the seven that she would be wise enough not to let herself fall in love with the golden god, but as soon as she prayed the words, she knew it a fruitless request. Try as she might, there was not avoiding the truth any longer. Gods help me she thought, closing her eyes in helpless defeat. I'm in love with Jaime Lannister.
So how long will Amarah be able to keep that little revelation to herself? You'll have to keep reading to find out:) As always, all reviews are appreciated. Thanks so much for reading!