Sorry, it's been so long. I planned to update last month, but then this site started having issues with email delivery. It's still having issues, but I don't want to wait any longer. Since both stats and email notifications are broken on here I hope anybody still reading this will let me know.

Thank you for the reviews on the previous chapter, Princess Rosalind of Underland, shalomdebbie, jacobssibling, and RhaenaTargaryen and big thanks to kaz for not only reviewing that chapter but all of the previous ones as well!

Jaime's eyes opened as he stretched on the comfy bed before rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He rolled over to check on Cersei and smiled softly as he watched her sleep. Despite all of her ambition, she had never mastered the art of getting an early start to the day.

He watched her sleep for a brief bit before getting out of bed as carefully as possible. Cersei would be hungry when she awoke, and he could use a brief walk to gather his thoughts. When he returned, perhaps they would discuss things.

He left the room, shutting the door behind him as gently as possible, being ever so careful not to wake her.

As he headed outside, he realized his foot still hurt. He supposed he'd have to follow the healer's advice and keep his walking to a minimum for a week. They'd get supplies today, then stay in the inn for the next several days, leaving only to eat or bring back food. Or better yet, they could find an inn that served food.

Finding the nearest fruit vendor, he filled his sack with various fruits for him and Cersei. Remembering their time on the monkey-ridden island, he declined to get any bananas. He was sick of them, and he was certain Cersei was too.

It wasn't long before he arrived back at their room to find Cersei now awake. Her eyes were dry, but they looked red, as though she had been crying. He felt the urge to take her in his arms and reassure her of his love. To promise her that everything would be alright. Then thoughts of a little brown-haired, blue-eyed baby entered his mind, and he refrained.

Besides, he reasoned, it would be best to get a second opinion on the pregnancy before they discussed that particular problem. And if the babe was not his? Well, he couldn't leave her. He'd already made the choice he'd rather die than live without her. But he wouldn't be reminded every day either. Her transgression would have to be dealt with by using regular hair dyes if the child so much as came out with a tint of brown to their hair. She would agree. She would have to agree. The eyes were another matter and one he refused to think about.

He cleared his throat and broke the silence. "I just went to get some fruit for our breakfast."

"Of course," she replied. He noted the relief evident in her voice and briefly pondered it. Was he the cause of her tears? Surely she couldn't have thought he'd abandoned her?

They ate their breakfast in silence. When she finished her fruit, he asked if she wanted to get supplies now and she muttered her agreement.

He led her to Belonar's clothing shop first, much to her obvious displeasure. They bought two large sacks to hold all the clothes and other items they would buy, while Daenysa watched them like a hawk. Cersei even bought some men's clothing as well. When he expressed surprise she informed him that nobody would notice such a thing once they were on the road in a covered wagon.

A wagon? He supposed they would have to buy that next and one such as Cersei was accustomed to would surely cost them a small fortune. Such an extravagance could get them noticed by potential thieves. They would have to discuss it more, perhaps saving that purchase for tomorrow after they'd gotten everything else they needed.

After finishing in Belonar's they visited various other shops, buying many things like soap, combs, blankets, and even a sundial to tell the time.

It wasn't long before they had so much stuff that the sack was full and they had to buy another. Soon that too was nearly full.

As they were leaving a shop, Cersei noticed he was having trouble carrying both the sacks. "We should have somebody to do that for us," she remarked.

"Well, we don't have anybody who can. So perhaps we should head back to the inn and leave this there? It isn't far," he replied.

"Very well then. Is there even anything else we need?" She asked, turning to head in that direction.

"I doubt it. You've bought enough clothes to dress an entire village," he replied, struggling to keep up.

"Funny. I mean, other than clothes," she said.

"We got washcloths, soap, a sundial, hats, and even blankets. What more could we possibly need?" He asked, flabbergasted.

Cersei paused, and they walked in silence for a moment before she spoke. "Sheets. Fresh sheets."

He smiled as he recalled the last time she asked for fresh sheets. That was a good morning, back in King's Landing. It felt like another lifetime now.

Spotting a shop that seemed like it would have sheets, he nudged Cersei in that direction. They bought their sheets and then headed back to the inn.

After a quick rest at the inn, they decided to have a late lunch at a nearby tavern.

The meal was silent and awkward, and they discussed the weather, of all things. Was this truly what had become of them?

When they finished eating, he again broached the subject of finding another healer. Cersei agreed this time. However, neither had any idea how to do such.

"We could ask Belonar," he suggested.

Cersei scowled but gave her reluctant agreement.

"Well, there was another healer about an hour's walk from here. He died last year," Belonar said.

"You don't know of any others, then?" asked Jaime.

"I do, but I cannot remember their names or locations," stated Belonar.

"That's unfortunate. Thank you, though."

"Actually, I do know of a place that may be of help. It is on the other side of Pentos though. You'd have to take a horse there, or a carriage. You could take the stagecoach that comes by every morning and evening."

"I see. And where is this place?" Jaime asked.

"I believe Mending Manse is the name of the road."

"Thank you! And where is the stagecoach?"

Belonar gave them directions to the stagecoach, which was perhaps a thirty-minute walk from his shop. Jaime thanked him for all the help and even Cersei reluctantly thanked him, seemingly grateful to be spared from at worst getting lost or at best, aimlessly wandering through town in search of a healer.

Once they left the shop Cersei turned towards him, confusion in her eyes, "Why did you ask about the stagecoach?

He mirrored her confused glance with one of his own. "Because I strongly doubt you wish to walk for hours."

"Of course, I don't wish to have a repeat of our walk to Pentos. Which need I remind you was terrible for me! You were drunk and stumbling the whole time! But we're here now. Why not just purchase a wagon and some horses?"

He stopped and held out his arms dramatically. "Do you know where? I have seen no stables nearby."

She stopped beside him and gave him an annoyed look. "You could have asked Belonar! You asked about the stagecoach!"

"Wouldn't it be easier to wait on purchasing one until we are ready to leave Pentos? The stagecoach should be adequate until then."

"Stagecoach! With gods know who on it? No. We will go look for a carriage and some horses." she said. She took off at a brisk pace.

He rushed to catch up to her. "Fine. If you insist, I will go ask-"

"You will not! It can't be that far to find one," she replied as he fell into step beside her.

"It's probably by where the stagecoach is. That would make the most sense," he said.

"We're going in that direction, anyway. Just don't get any ideas about me taking this stagecoach," she warned.

"It won't arrive until the evening anyway," he replied.

After some time, Cersei stopped. Breaking the silence, she simply said, "Here."

Confused, he turned to see what had caught her attention. They were only halfway to their destination. His ankle was starting to throb, and he could feel a headache coming on. Despite these problems, he just wanted to get to their destination. "This is not-"

"The stables can wait. I'd like to go in this shop. Perhaps you can get a shave and a trim while we're in here," she replied, entering the shop.

He followed after her. "A trim? I thought you liked my hair long."

They found themselves in a large room with stools lined up along the walls on each side, some with people sitting on them, some empty. To the right of the room, on one stool, a man was having a tooth pulled; on another stool, a man sat holding his mouth, with pain visible on his face. To the left of the room were three men having their beards trimmed and one having his hair shaved bald.

"It's uneven. Terribly so," Cersei replied after a moment.

"It is not!" he replied loudly, causing a few people to turn and look at him.

"Are you saying I cannot tell a straight line?" She asked.

He frowned, unsure of himself. "But surely someone would have told me."

Their argument was interrupted as a man approached them. He seemed to be greeting them, but his language was the Pentos language, and they could not understand.

The man quickly noted their confused looks. "My apologies. I speak Westerosian as well."

"You take care of hair here? Don't you? I would like mine dyed," said Cersei.

"Dye? We've no use for dye here. Try a clothing shop."

"Very well then," she replied, frowning. No use for dye! What if she wanted her hair dyed? Was she to dye it herself?

"Is there anything else I can help you with?" the man asked.

Jaime stood silently while Cersei nudged him. "There was something you needed here, wasn't there?" she prodded.

"I don't believe so."

She glared daggers at him before turning back to address the man. "No, I suppose we will be on our way, then."

Once they were outside, Cersei started walking towards their destination. Jaime fell into step beside her as she seethed at being made a fool of in the barbers.

After a few minutes, she could take it no more. "Why didn't you get a shave and cut?"

He shrugged. "Waste of money. I can do my own shave and you can cut my hair."

She couldn't believe the gall of him, to suggest such a thing! "Cut your hair! I have never used shears in all my life and I don't intend to now!"

"Why not? You're the one who said it's uneven. Surely you must be eager to fix it," he said.

"I...ugh! Forget it!"

"Why did you ask for dye?" Jaime questioned after a moment.

"We agreed to disguise ourselves. Remember?"

"Of course, I remember. But-"

She spotted what she needed and made a beeline for it. "This store should have the dye we need."

"We're never going to get a carriage at this rate!" Jaime complained.

She entered the shop, and Jaime followed behind her. It was a tiny shop, with only two shelves on each side, each shelf holding small pieces of cloth of varying colors. In the front, the shop owner stood behind a desk. To the left of the desk was a door leading to where most of the shop's supplies were kept.

"What do you need?" the shop owner asked.

"Dye," she said. In her side view, she spotted Jaime giving her an angry look.

"What color?" the man asked.

"Black, and yellow, and they must be suitable for hair," she replied.

"Dyes to use on your hair, then I see. I will get them. It will just be a moment." The shopkeeper replied before going into the nearby room.

"Dye? Really, Cersei?" Jaime asked.

"Yes, dye. Did you forget we were going to disguise ourselves?"

"We don't need hair dye. There are these lovely creations called wigs," Jaime said.

The man returned just then with two bottles of dye, and they settled on a price.

"This one will dye your hair as dark as night." He handed her the black one. "And this one as golden as the sun," he handed her the golden-colored one.

"Thank you," Cersei replied, handing him the required amount of coin.

When they were outside Cersei started walking, but he grabbed her sleeve, stopping her in her tracks. "Why did you get dye?"

She turned around and stood in front of him; her face a mixture of annoyance and confusion. "Are you feeling ill? We agreed before that we would disguise ourselves."

"I thought you'd get a wig to make your hair look long again. Or perhaps a hat or something."

"Wigs are uncomfortable and I hate hats."

"Well, I do not see what the point in buying these dyes was. Your hair is already golden, so that was a wasted purchase. And what is the black dye for? You surely can't be considering dying it black of all colors."

Cersei smiled sweetly at him. "Would you prefer for me to dye it a lighter shade of blonde then? Everybody knows of us as being golden-haired, a whitish dull, lifeless shade of yellow would surely be a good disguise."

"I prefer it golden blonde, just as it's always been, but I suppose that is better than black. Should we go back there? Perhaps he will allow for an exchange, seeing as we only just left."

"Maybe after I dye it that dull shade, I could change into the pants and suit that I bought earlier as well. Would that please you?"

Her sweet tone was confusing him and doing nothing to help his headache which was getting worse by the moment. It was never like Cersei to ask, much less care about what pleased him unless they were in bed. "Are you planning to disguise yourself as a man? I don't think you have any hope of passing as a man. Though it would be rather interesting to see you try."

"Would it now? I bet you would like that very much. It must be all that arouses you now, a giant manly woman."

So that was what she was getting at. He should have known. Still, he would not let her paint him as the bad guy in this situation. "And what arouses you? An insane and unkempt pirate? Or perhaps you'd prefer a younger version of me, though I'd imagine Lancel had to have been quite the disappointment in that regard."

"You're accusing me of wanting another? You haven't wanted me since you returned. I sometimes wonder why you even came back," she responded her voice breaking.

"As though you want me. You've been repulsed by me since I came back with this," he accused, holding up his stump.

"Maybe what I am repulsed by is not your lack of hand but rather how you came to lose it! Was she pleased to see what she had caused? Perhaps she even begged you to fuck her with it. A giant cow such as her probably couldn't be satisfied with just your cock."

To even think that he would do such a thing or that Brienne would, "She was rather quite satisfied with my cock. At least enough to want it mornings and nights. And sometimes in between." He regretted the words as soon as they'd left his mouth. He'd hurt Cersei and dishonored Brienne. Gods forgive him.

Cersei had barely lifted her hand, but he knew what was coming. He grabbed her hand before she could slap him, and pulled her closer, roughly, awkwardly.

She stumbled a bit and before he even realized what he was doing he kissed her. A hard, rough kiss. Her lips tasted of honey and apple. She was stiff in his arms, perhaps from the shock. A few seconds passed before she returned his kiss with equal fever. Their mouths opened, exploring each other's mouths for what felt like, and in some ways was, the first time in a lifetime.

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