When he finally departed his room for the feast that night, he came dressed in fineries, though he left his whites and sword behind. His gilded hook glinted threateningly in the light of the lone hearth in the hall, it's edge still razor sharp.
...
"My lord!" Lady Amerei Frey greeted him, curiously alone. She was a hearty wench to look at, that he could not deny. Long legs and smooth skin and full breasts that threatened to spill out the top of her dress. Such a shame her face let her down. She might have been pretty, but she would never beautiful.
"Is there nobody else to join us?" Jaime asked.
"My poor mother is still in mourning," she said. Amerei offered him a coy smile. "In any case, I was rather under the impression that I was not allowed to spend the king's gold on such things? Those funds are meant for the fields and the keep, no?"
"Of course," Jaime agreed as he he sat himself and the food started to arrive, all in the arms of suspiciously buxom serving-girls for a keep managed by a lady. Still, the food was good, and Jaime enjoyed eating something not burned or roasted after so many days on the road, and attacked his food with gusto. He used his hook to cut his bread and meat, the edge more than sufficient for the task.
And before long, the subject turned to wolves.
"They've lost all fear in men," Lady Amerei idly said. "Packs of them just seem to attack our men randomly. We had to kill half an entire pack - a dozen of them - yesterday before the others gathered the good sense to turn tail and flee."
Jaime felt himself pale a shade, his appetite suddenly gone. He'd heard similar reports from some of his own men when he'd sent them out as scouts. Wolves watching, following, but only occasionally venturing so far as attacking. Lady Catelyn...?
"I see," he cut in. "And aside from wolves have you any issues with warriors? Outlaws?"
Lady Amerei lost her perpetually pleasant expression for a second as she scowled. "Outlaws killed my father," she said. "Lord Beric's lot it seems like. And though we lost them we got reports of a one-eyed man and a hooded woman."
Jaime steeled himself. "A woman?"
"Aye," Lady Amerei said. "The peasants would have us believe that this woman is an old one, with white eyes and a torn face. They claim it was the woman, not the man, who was handing out the orders."
Seven save us all, Jaime reflected with horror. Lady Catelyn's corpse truly does haunt these lands. Suddenly, he missed having Oathkeeper at his hip. No matter, Jaime told himself. Tommen had a plan. He's seen all this. I just need to have faith.
"Woman or man," Jaime said, feeling suddenly dizzy, "they are scoundrels all the same."
Amerei nodded. "My men have all been unsuccessful in finding those responsible for my father's fate," she said, her features almost shifting into a pretty sort of sadness. She reached over the table and reached to grip Jaime's hook.
"But I'm sure you could find them, Ser Jaime," she said in a lusty tone, fluttering her lashes. "Please, my lord, I beg of you, stay and help us with Lord Beric and this woman." Her hand caressed his hook almost seductively.
Jaime cleared his throat and withdrew his hook, still feeling faintly queasy, reaching with his one remaining hand to produce the letter he had shown her maester earlier. "Much as I appreciate your proposition, Lady Amerei," he slid the letter over to her, "my place remains besides my king. Even still, I do have a proposal of my own."
Lady Amerei unfurled the letter and read it quickly. "A betrothal to your cousin Lancel?"
"Ser Lancel," Jaime reminded her. "It is a better match than most."
"Better than most," Amerei agreed. "I accept, of course. It is a great honour."
Jaime nodded as he pushed his plate away. "A great honour indeed," he said. "Be grateful you hold a seat as significant as Darry. You are very lucky. Lannister lads are typically sought after; they do not seek."
Amerei had a coy smile on her face. "Were you one of those lads, ser?"
"A long time ago," Jaime said, thinking of Cersei.
Amerei's smile grew slightly. "Oh, not as long a time ago as you think, I would wager."
"Eager to have my hand, were you?"
"Not so much your hand..." Amerei allowed her smile to slip from coy to suggestive.
"What would I tell Lancel?" Jaime asked, still outwardly calm yet growing increasingly curious and frustrated.
"Who says he need know anything?" Amerei asked in such a tone, leaning forward as though to afford him the best possible view between her breasts and down her dress. "I am not a maid in any case. You would not be despoiling anything for him. It can be our secret." The target of her touches went from his hook to his hand, caressing and stroking and massaging. "You've sworn vows of celibacy how long, my lord? I can see the effect of those oaths all over your face, in the way your eyes linger. Deny it all you like, but I can see you want me. Don't worry, I won't say so much as a word to anyone. And you can have me any way you please."
"I don't deny I desire you," Jaime said, and snatched his hand away, apprehension and unease supplanted by anger as he arose from his seat, a fresh wave of arousal tightening his breeches. "But I know better than to betray my oaths. You may not be a maid, but for Lancel's sake you will behave like one. No man other than him will you touch in that away ever again, do you understand me? You will stay as pure as the Maiden herself till he arrives from Kings Landing."
Amerei cocked her head to one side, and then nodded. "That should be no difficult thing," she said. "I've heard Lancel is a handsome one, and gallant, like you. Easy enough to wait for, even for a wench like me."
"He's better than you deserve, certainly," Jaime spat, and stormed out. Through the halls and up the steps till he was back in the chambers the maester had given him, his guards in close pursuit as he left Darry's great hall. The sheer gall of that girl! It was one thing to keep secrets for his king, but that...
Jaime shook his head, suddenly unhappy to be surrounded by stone walls and windows and shadows. He felt trapped. His arousal refused to abate. He went to the rookery and sent another message - meant in this case for his Uncle Kevan - and then returned to his room to find his urges still threatening to overpower him. And so, in a fit perhaps of madness, he sent for her.
Pia came into his room meek as a mouse, offered a deep bow, silent as she awaited his instructions.
"Look at me," Jaime commanded. Pia raised her head, and Jaime caught a glimpse of her mouth before her lips pursed. I've lost a limb and you've lost your looks, Jaime lamented. Still, at least she can close her mouth. I can hardly hide my hand, now can I? "That night you came to my bed, just after I'd lost my hand, you claimed you'd always dreamed of me. Was that true?"
Pia blushed and nodded.
"And is it still true?" Jaime asked, in a softer tone.
Pia nodded again, the hue of her cheeks reddening till her blush became a flush.
"Well," Jaime said, "now's your chance. If you truly desire me, you'll drop your dress, and stand before me completely bare, bereft of secrets."
Pia averted her eyes as she lifted her hands and undid the lacing on her brown roughspun dress before lifting her hands to her shoulders and pushing the cloth away. The dress hung briefly from her breasts, and then her hips, but before long it lay in a pool on the floor, and Pia was naked. She was still a shapely girl - with round breasts and wide hips and a pert arse - though a few of her curves had lessened with hunger, and much of her skin was still marred with splotchy, faded bruises.
The worst victim of her captivity, however, seemed her cunt. It was a mess - all swollen and bruised - and looking at it Jaime doubted if it'd ever fully mend. Her arse will be worse, Jaime knew without looking. We all had her a hunnerd times, Jaime remembered one of the men he'd been forced to behead had said after he'd been caught trying to rape her on the ride. A hunnerd each, honest! Gregor's men had seemed genuinely surprised when Jaime let his blade fall on the man's neck.
Yet the girl did not seem reserved, and instead eyed him with naked hunger, a desperation in her eyes that bordered on uncomfortable to be aware of. This was a dreadful idea, Jaime knew immediately, but he did not allow himself to be deterred. The girl was willing, and wanted him very much, and he knew he'd rather not suffer the guilt of denying her a second time, even if any desire he'd felt for her had already long since disappeared.
"On your knees, Pia," Jaime gently instructed her. The girl lowered herself to her knees without complaint and slowly crawled to him, nestling herself between his legs. She kissed his belt, and before long it was undone and his cock was buried deep in her toothless mouth.
Again, Jaime felt disgusted, but now only at himself - at what he'd become. She was so much smaller than him, so much younger. A little girl, that's all she is, Jaime suddenly thought. A little girl in a woman's body, scarred and scared. Yet Pia's tongue did not give his cock so much as a moment to wilt, and before long he had finished under the influence of her ministrations. She swirled his seed around her mouth and swallowed, before setting enthusiastically on his softening cock again, eagerly lapping up any stray drops as she committed herself to seeing it stiffen once more.
Jaime placed a hand on her shoulder and gently pushed her away. "Do I not please you, ser?" Pia asked, lifting her hand to cover her mouth as she spoke.
"You please me plenty," Jaime said, not wanting to hurt the poor girl's feelings. "But it seems I have other matters weighing on my mind. Gather your things and go. We ride for Riverrun at dawn. Mayhap there you can find a more vital man among the soldiers, someone more suitable than I."
"But I only desire you, ser," Pia assured him. "I dream of you, all in white with your golden curls during Lord Whent's tourney, ever so gallant and brave. Allow me to please you properly, ser, even if it's only ever for one night. That's all I ask. You'll forget all your troubles once I start, I swear it."
Jaime grunted - unwilling to crush her hopes - and waved her away. Once she had dressed herself again and departed, Jaime turned to face the blade he'd set down on the bed. He pulled Oathkeeper from it's sheath, observed the swirling pattern of grey and red, ashamed at himself as he recited his vows in his mind.
...
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