A/N: New chapter again for you guys, and again a big thank you to everyone for the reviews/favourites/follows, it really is awesome of you all!

Hope you enjoy the new update.

Guest: That is indeed going to be my pairing, the focus will shift towards them in part two.

Right-ho, on with the chapter!

:)

Slave

"Ugh … Jaime … can you help me please?"

Jaime turned and rolled his eyes as he saw Lanette trying and failing to tie her feet into her shoes. She could barely see over her stomach now let alone lean over it and it seemed that each day that passed she relied on him more and more. She had about a moon to go now and had been confined to their chambers much to her annoyance. The Maester had told her that she was to remain well rested and relaxed and she had glared daggers at him, muttering something under her breath about the seven fires of hell. Jaime had put a lot of pressure on her hand at that point and thankfully the Maester hadn't heard her. He smiled to himself as he remembered her demanding all the windows be opened if she must be confined. Jaime had cursed and struggled with them for what seemed like forever before his father of all people came by to see what all the commotion was about and managed to get them open in mere seconds. Lanette had been incredibly grateful, seemingly forgetting that it had been Jaime who had put all the effort in, all her smiles and thanks going instead to his father.

"I don't see why you need your shoes on anyway," he grumbled as he knelt down at her feet to tie them; "it's not like you're allowed to go anywhere"

"But I am still allowed visitors," she told him sharply, "and I am a Lady, I should make sure I appear as such"

"Indeed," he muttered under his breath.

"What was that?" she asked, her eyebrows raised.

"Nothing my sweet," he said, looking up to smile at her.

"I thought as much," she said, narrowing her eyes slightly at him.

"Now is there anything else you need before I go?" he asked.

"I don't think so," she told him, leaning back against the pillows with her hands cradled around her stomach, a small smile on her face.

"I'll be as quick as I can," he promised her and she nodded, her smile widening; "I love you," he told her then, kissing her belly as he straightened up before bending to peck her lips.

"I love you too," she told him and he sent her a swift smile before he turned and walked out of their chambers.

He felt slightly guilty for breathing a sigh of relief when the closed the door behind him. Gods he loved her but the last few weeks Lanette had been driving him slowly mad with her changeable moods and demanding nature. He knew it was the pressure of the baby and the pressure that others were mounting on her about producing a son. Jaime wished people would keep their opinions on the matter to themselves; whether the baby was a boy or a girl was no one's business but his and Lanette's. She was only eighteen, she had years ahead of her to have both boys and girls and he knew that deep down she knew that but it didn't stop her constantly worrying about disappointing him. What she failed to understand was that she could never disappoint him. She could birth him a dozen daughters and he would still love her. It wouldn't be the end of the world, the Rock could pass to one of Tyrion's sons if need be, or one of his uncle Kevan's. He smiled slightly then at the sudden image of a dozen daughters running him ragged around the Rock. The Gods help him.

The tiltyard was calling then as he made his way down the hallways and he could not resist the temptation. Hopefully he wouldn't stumble across his father on the way out, the last thing he needed right now was to be dragged into some chore or another. Sometimes he missed the simplicity of the Kingsguard but then he reminded himself of how much fun having a wife was and decided that it was worth all the extra responsibility. When he reached the entrance hall he glanced around warily before making a speedy exit towards the main doors. Thankfully he didn't see his father and he smiled widely to himself as he stepped out into the courtyard; he had had enough demands from his wife without his father starting on him as well. He promised himself he would make himself useful later on, right now he needed more than anything to grasp a sword in his hand and dent the pride of some of the men of Casterly Rock.

"Jaime!"

Damn it all. He knew his father would catch up to him eventually and he had caught him on his way back inside, his clothing dishevelled and his brow sweaty from the tiltyard. Now he wouldn't be able to use being with Lanette as an excuse for being late – it was blatantly obvious where he had truly been. Still, it had been worth it for a few hours of peace not being badgered every few minutes by his wife nor going through endless chores with his father.

"I hope you've been in the tiltyard and not anywhere more sinister," his father said then.

"Where else would I have been?" Jaime raised his brows.

"How's Lanette?" he ignored Jaime's question.

"Demanding," Jaime replied honestly and a ghost of a smile crossed his father's features.

"Her time is near," he nodded slightly.

"I know," Jaime sighed, "and I know she's uncomfortable but it's …"

"Driving you mad?" he suggested.

"Yes," Jaime said, "and I feel guilty for even admitting that"

"Your mother was the same, she drove me to distraction towards the end of her pregnancies … you'll never know how much I miss that now. These are the last few weeks with your wife Jaime, when the child comes it will no longer be the two of you – you should savour the time while you still have it. You never know when it's going to run out," he said sadly.

"Father …" Jaime started, not even sure what he was going to say.

"Go on, go and be with her," he waved him away.

"Do you not have need of me?" Jaime frowned slightly.

"I have been running things here long before you came back," he almost smiled; "now go – and give her my regards"

"Of course," Jaime said and his father nodded curtly before sweeping away.

Lanette had dismissed her attendants again; they drove her mad with their clucking and fussing. There were still weeks left before the baby came but they seemed to watch her constantly as though she would go into labour at any second. She had already told Jaime that she was banning them from the birthing chamber and he had laughed at her as though she had told him a hilarious jape. It was no jape. She damn well meant it. The Maester and a few of the older women in the service of the Rock would be with her and that was it. She didn't want an endless stream of people coming in and out and seeing her like that. From what she had been told of childbirth it was messy and painful and rather undignified. Jaime had offered to be there with her but she had refused him. No doubt if he saw the exact intricacies of it all he would never want to touch her again. She leaned back against the cushions of the sofa for a moment and tried to ignore her aching feet. It didn't seem to matter how little she was on them; they would always be killing her by the afternoon. She just had to keep telling herself over and over again that it would all be worth it in the end when she held her baby for the first time. Thinking of it made her think of her mother and she squeezed her eyes tightly shut before the sudden stinging turned into tears.

Gods she wished her mother were still in the world. If she were she would be here by now, likely sat here in this room with her with a thousand soothing words that she would believe from no one but her. In her absence the panic was heightened and the pain in her heart throbbed uncomfortably any time she would think about her. Jaime had told her the pain would dull in time and that one day she would be able to think about her mother fondly. She hoped that he was telling the truth and not just trying to coddle her. Sometimes she saw a glazed look in her husband's eye and a slightly wistful expression on his face and she just knew in those moments that he was thinking about his own mother. She sighed heavily then and opened one of her eyes as the door to their chambers opened. Thankfully it was Jaime and not one of her attendants sneaking back to check on her under the guise of retrieving a book or something or other. If it had been she might not have been able to keep her temper in check. She opened both her eyes then and Jaime smiled brightly at her before slowly coming to cross to her side. He knelt down next to the sofa then, one hand coming to rest on her stomach as he leaned in to capture her lips for a long moment.

"Were you sleeping?" he asked her when he pulled away.

"No," she breathed, one of her own hands stroking through his hair; "just thinking"

"Or just pretending," he smirked, "I see you've dismissed your attendants again"

"They drive me mad … not one of them has given birth," she told him in an irritated fashion.

"They mean well," he soothed.

"I know," she smiled slightly, "but it doesn't make them any less irritating"

"How is our baby?" he changed the subject.

"Intent on making me as uncomfortable as possible," she sighed.

"I'm sure they don't mean it," he said, rubbing her belly affectionately.

"I cannot wait for all this to be over with, to have them in my arms," she told him then and he smiled.

"I know," he said, meeting her eyes, "neither can I"

"Remember what you promised me?" she held his gaze.

"I remember," he nodded and she smiled for him again; "do you need anything?"

"No," she sighed heavily again, "not unless you can get me some new feet"

"My father is powerful but I'm not sure he's that powerful," Jaime chuckled and she snorted; "are they hurting again?"

"Aren't they always?" she raised her brows and it was his turn to sigh as he got himself up off the floor and straightened up.

Jaime moved to the end of the sofa and sat himself down, lifting her legs up gently before scooting under them so her feet were resting in his lap. He undid the laces on her shoes then and eased them from her feet before tossing them aside. His hands began gently rubbing at one of her feet then and he heard her sigh in contentment, her eyes closing as she relaxed back against the cushions. He smiled to himself, continuously rubbing circles slightly more firmly into the arch of her foot for several minutes before he moved onto the other one. "Better?" he asked her then and she merely nodded for him as she let out a long sigh of contentment, a small smile gracing her lips. When he had finished tending to her other foot he looked back at her and noted her chest evenly rising and falling and her breathing slightly deeper than it had been. She had fallen asleep. Not that he was surprised, she spent more time asleep than she did awake these days but the Maester had told him that it was all normal and to be expected. Everything so far had been normal and to be expected, Jaime could only hope that the birth would follow suit. He tried to seem blasé about the fact that she might die; refusing to even acknowledge that it was a possibility but deep down he was terrified. What was he supposed to do without her now? What would their baby do? How could he possibly be enough for the tiny life? What if he ended up cold and broken like his father?

He shuddered then. There were too many questions bouncing around in his head and he didn't want to address any of them as if he did he would be accepting the fact that he might lose Lanette. He would not lose her. He could not lost her. Not now. Not ever. He kept his eyes on her beautiful, sleeping face then as he tentatively moved closer to her so he could lay his hand down against her stomach again. After a few moments he could feel the movement, the strong insistent movements. Son or daughter the baby in there was a strong one and one who would no doubt cause him no end of trouble and worry. The thought of being responsible for such a little thing was terrifying to him even with Lanette at his side. But without her? He shuddered slightly. The thought was unbearable.

Lanette stirred awake and groaned softly. Jaime's head was resting on her bare stomach and she could feel his even breathing against her skin but she knew she would have to wake him. The desire in her was piqued and she knew she wouldn't be able to ignore the fire that had seemingly ignited between her thighs. This had been happening more and more over the last weeks; her usual lust for Jaime seemingly intensified. She had wondered if it was the baby affecting her but she had not the courage to ask the Maester if this too was normal and to be expected. Her hand came to tangle in Jaime's hair then but still he remained asleep so she tugged lightly on it. He murmured something unintelligible then so she tugged again and he sighed heavily against her skin, his breathing ceasing to come evenly and she imagined he were awake. "What?" he grumbled into her stomach then and her suspicions were confirmed. "I need you," she whispered into the darkness and he shifted himself slightly, his head lifting from her stomach. "Now Lana?" he asked her blearily, his tired, confused face coming into focus before her. "Yes now Jaime … please," she practically whined at him and he sighed heavily, moving himself above her. "You know I can't resist it when you beg," he told her heavily and she couldn't help but smile widely before she shifted her own body; rolling over and tucking some of the pillows under her so she wouldn't crush her belly.

In the next moment she felt Jaime's hands on her bare back, his light touch making gooseflesh appear where he lightly trailed his fingertips. As good as it felt she was impatient for him to fulfil her desires and she let out a disgruntled noise despite herself. He seemed to take her hint, his body coming to lay behind her and his hands lifting her hips slightly higher so he could slip inside her. A hum of pleasure left her then, her hands clenching into the softness of the pillows as Jaime began to thrust ever so slowly. She moved her hips back to meet his pace, knowing it was no good to try and quicken it. Ever since the beach he had refused to be anything other than slow and gentle with their love making in case he hurt her or the baby. Lanette thought he was being over cautious but he would not budge on the matter and she had given up trying to persuade him. He let out a groan of his own then and she smiled despite herself, knowing that his irritation at being woken in the middle of the night had no doubt melted away. Soft moans were leaving her own mouth as he touched so deeply inside her with every roll of his hips; each slow thrust bringing her closer and closer to the release that her body was craving.

One of his hands came to brush her hair to the side, his hot lips on her neck in the next moment. She turned her head to the side so he had better access, both of their breathing deep and ragged as they neared their end. When his fingers tightened around her hip she knew that he was close and she willed him to hold on just a little longer so she could reach her height with him. His hand snuck round and beneath her then so he could let his fingers tease between her legs and she was helpless. The coils in her stomach all snapped at once and the haze of pleasure engulfed her, her body seemingly tingling all over as she let out a final moan, whispering his name over and over as it crashed through her. He came to his own end with a groan against her neck a moment later, his lips only lingering a while before he pulled out of her and flopped down on his back beside her. When her breathing came easier she turned her head before lifting it up to consider him lying next to her; his own chest rapidly rising and falling. She managed to shift as close to him as she could then, his arms coming around her as she twisted her body around his as much as her stomach would allow her to.

"Satisfied?" he asked her, still sounding rather breathless.

"For now," she answered him and he chuckled.

"I feel like a Lyseni slave," he told her then and it was her turn to giggle.

"Are you not satisfied husband?" she asked him then.

"I have been altogether too satisfied these past weeks," he jested.

"I know I've been demanding," she told him quietly.

"This demand I rather enjoy," he replied, trailing his fingertips lightly up and down her spine.

"I do love you Jaime," she said, "thank you for being so understanding of me"

"I love you Lana," he told her as her eyes fluttered closed, placing a kiss to her forehead, "and I will do anything and everything I can for you."

He was back there in that room. How he had gotten there he didn't know but he was back. It was deathly silent as his gaze roamed the vast space. He could feel the sword in his hand and he looked down to see it already coated in blood. "Who's blood?" the voice came then and his heart pounded wildly; "is it your traitor father's?" Jaime said nothing, searching for him in the dim light of the room, his eyes lingering for a moment on the twisted Iron Throne. He appeared then, his eyes dancing with glee although his hands still shook. Jaime felt sick as he looked at him, this man he had served. The man he had stood guard over and protected. The man whose chambers he had stood outside while he abused and raped his wife. He had wanted to protect the Queen – that was his duty as well wasn't it? Apparently not, she was not to be protected from her own husband. And what of the rest of the city? There were hundreds of thousands here. Half a million. Was he to let them all die, let himself die and all those people on the say so of one man? A mad man? "Rossart's," he finally spoke and he saw the King's eyes move from his sword to his face. The glee gone from his eyes, fear replacing it now. He turned to run but Jaime was younger. Quicker. He grabbed him back by the hair as he squealed like a cornered pig about to be slaughtered. He raised his blade and kissed it across his throat, the blood hot and sticky as it flowed over his hand and the Mad King let out a final gargled choke before falling entirely silent.

Jaime let him drop to the floor then, looking up to the ceiling and closing his eyes. He sent a silent prayer to the Gods that they would forgive him for this – that they would understand why he did it and not seek to punish him for it. When he opened his eyes again he moved them back to the body of the King and he almost retched when he saw what he had done. Gods. No. How had he managed that? It was Aerys. Aerys. How could it be her? He dropped to his knees at her side, fighting the urge to be sick as he pressed his hands around her throat in a vain attempt to staunch the flow of blood. Somewhere in the back of his mind he knew that it was no good. That he couldn't save her but he had to try, didn't he? He had to try. Her eyes were staring up at him and he couldn't help but stare back at them, glazed over with some kind of finality. With death. The pool of blood was stretching out even further now, it seemed as though it covered the entire floor as far as the eye could see. Perhaps it would go on forever and Jaime would end up drowning in it. It would be what he deserved after this. After what he had done. How could he live with himself? Live without her? Through the silence and the weight of guilt he could hear the crying but still he couldn't move his hands from around her throat. If he let go he would be accepting she was dead. If he let go he would have to face the full weight of the crushing guilt. If he let go he would have to face that baby, look into that baby's eyes. How could he ever look that baby in the eye when he had just killed its mother?

"Jaime?"

He was breathing hard as he jerked awake, blinking his eyes as her face came into focus above him, her brow creased with that perfect little frown. His hands came up to cup her face then, feeling her cheeks warm under his touch and he wanted to cry in relief. The dream had been so real, starting off as a memory before it had descended into a nightmare. He pulled her face to his then and kissed her, tasting the realness of her, the warmth of her. She was alright. She was right here in bed with him and not lying dead on those cold stones. Dead at his hand. He shuddered involuntarily then and she pulled away from him; that little frown deepening as she looked at him questioningly.

"It was just a dream," he told her slightly breathlessly.

"You're shaking Jaime … what was it?" she asked him, her eyes wide as she looked down on him.

"It doesn't matter," he said, shaking his head and running his hand through his hair.

"It matters if you are like this," she returned and he sighed heavily.

"The Mad King is all," he told her, it wasn't a complete lie.

"Jaime …" she began but he shook his head again.

"I did it Lana, I killed him and I have to live with that," he said, bitterness seeking into his tone.

"Why did you do it?" she asked him quietly then and he stared at her.

For a moment she thought that he was angry with her, that she had angered him with her question. The question that she had been dying to ask him for the entirety of their marriage. She had pushed it to the back of her mind though, it had been easy to do it. Easy to separate her soft, loving Jaime from the image of the Kingslayer. In her mind she could not equate Jaime with that nickname but it was his and he had been given it for a reason. Perhaps she was best off not knowing. She was about to open her mouth and tell him that it didn't matter, to forget her question, but before she could he had opened his own.

"He told me to kill my father," he said quietly, "reason enough you might think? The reason I gave to Robert and Ned Stark and all those other men who looked on me in judgement. They didn't need to know the truth – no one did … not until now"

"You don't have to tell me Jaime," she whispered.

"I trust and love you beyond anything I ever thought possible," he told her, stroking his hand down her cheek; "if I had not killed the King we would not be here now. I most certainly would not be here now, you'd be married off to some other Lord …"

"Jaime …" she began, but once again he cut her off.

"Wildfire Lana," he said, "he had three pyromancers who were supposed to ignite it under the city. I was the only other who knew, hearing their plans as I guarded him day and night. He wanted me close as my father had not declared for him nor against him. When the sack began he sent one of the pyromancers in disguise and I ran into him; I knew what he was going to do and I couldn't let him. I killed him first before I entered the throne room. Do you understand now Lana? I killed Rossart but there were two more for Aerys to order and even if I managed to stop them he would have found another. And another … he was mad Lana. He was going to destroy the Capitol … he had to be stopped, you understand don't you?"

"Of course I do," she breathed, cupping his face in her hands and leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead, her action making him want to cry.

"You are not disgusted with me?" he said, his voice almost relieved.

"Jaime I have always known what you did," she said softly, "now hearing why you did it I can understand it. You had to do it Jaime, your actions saved so many"

"I'm sorry I never told you before," he said.

"I never asked," she reasoned and he managed a smile.

"I don't deserve you," he told her, meeting her gaze.

"Don't be foolish," she returned, placing her lips to his forehead again before pecking his lips.

"I am so lucky to have you," he breathed as she lay back down in his arms.

"That makes two of us," she stifled a yawn, "don't fret Jaime ... you deserve your peace …"

He tried to take comfort from her words as she drifted back to sleep in his arms. Tried not to see the images from his dreams behind his own eyes each time he would close them but it was impossible. Her image was there each time and no matter how many times he conjured up her soothing words in his mind he could not erase that image. It had not been Aerys' blood on his hands in that throne room; it had been his wife's.

A/N: Another one down, hope you enjoyed it. Baby will be making an appearance next chapter and that will be up early next week!

:)