She does love Jaime, with all her heart. How can she not, when they share a soul and a mind and a heart? They're the same person, meant to be one perfect human being, yet the Gods decided to break them down and separate them into two bodies.
She doesn't understand them, their ways are strange and their actions cruel, ruthless, brutal. She doesn't understand them and she doesn't want to, yet she wonders, sometimes, if it isn't for the best. They belong to each other, like pieces of armour that go together. A sword and a shield, ready to take over the world together, united.
How awful it feels then, when word comes to King's Landing that Jaime's been captured by Eddard Stark's boy. A fifteen year old boy has captured her twin brother, her other half, the extension of her own body. It kills her inside, really —it crawls at her skin like a dozen snails, making her feel sick.
She lies with Lancel thrice in the same night and she tries not to cry her brother's name when she peaks, clawing at the boy's back and sinking her teeth on his flesh. She feels weak and vulnerable, frail. She's losing. But then she thinks of Joffrey's eyes, fierce and beautiful, of Myrcella's golden hair, so like her own, of Tommen's sweet smile and full cheeks and she feels strong again.
She feels safe. Invincible.
