JAIME I

"Ah, Kingslayer," Robert Baratheon slurred drunkenly as he half sat, half fell, onto the bench beside Ser Jaime Lannister, sworn knight of the Kingsguard.

"Your Grace," Jaime greeted politely, ignoring the use of the jibe. Oh how he hated the name Kingslayer. While it was true that Jaime had slayed the Mad King, the one he had taken oaths to protect, he hated having it flung in his face at every turn. Didn't the people realize what he'd saved them from by killing Aerys?

"Nothing compares to this…nothing." Robert chuckled contentedly, taking a swig from his goblet. Around them the celebrations for the birth of the new Prince were in full swing. Jaime's younger brother Tyrion had long since disappeared, probably off to somewhere private with a whore or two, and Cersei had lingered only long enough for the formalities, before she'd retreated to her rooms, and her newborn son.

Jaime smiled thinly, but said nothing. Robert was too drunk to notice if Jaime's smile was a little forced.

"The feeling of having your own son in your arms…of being able to celebrate the birth of your heir with your court..." Robert shook his head, passing his gaze over the assembled lords and ladies, all of them seeming relaxed and in the mood for a party.

Jaime knew full well that the new prince wasn't Robert's baby at all, but his own, with Cersei. Jaime had already held little Joffrey in his arms, marveling at how strong the baby was, but yet at how small he was. Surely, Joffrey was much larger than Tyrion had been at birth, but still Jaime hadn't been prepared for how small Joffrey had been as he'd been passed to Cersei's arms, wrapped in blankets, his skin still bloodied by birth.

"I've heard it's a remarkable thing," Jaime commented lightly with a shrug, "holding one's child for the first time."

"It isn't right, that you Kingsguards are made to live like Septons... it's not like it's the bloody Nights Watch, it's not supposed to be a punishment" Robert grumbled, clasping Jaime on the shoulder.

"We manage," Jaime replied shortly.

Robert let out a great booming laugh, "I bet the lot of you keep half of the brothels in Kings Landing busy."

Jaime physically had to bite his tongue to prevent the automatic reply of 'well, you manage to keep the other half of them in business,' from slipping past his lips. Robert, however, didn't notice…or care.

"Here, how about this…as reward for your services to the country in Killing the Mad King, Aerys Targeryen, I relieve you of your duties to the Kingsguard, so you can be free to find yourself a bride, and have little golden haired brats of your own. It'll get your damned father off my back, he's been wanting you relieved of your vows since the war ended. In fact, I'll arrange a match for you. Any girl in the country that's not stark raving mad will fall over herself to get a chance at being Lady of Casterly Rock.

Jaime blinked, having not seen the King's words coming, and dread began to form in his gut.

"Thank-you, your grace," he replied automatically, without thinking.

"Ah, you thank me now…just wait till your married…you won't thank me then. Women are an unreasonable lot once you've wedded and bedded them."

Jaime shifted in his seat, trying not to think about the fact that Robert was talking about Cersei.

"Who were you thinking of?" Jaime instead asked neutrally, passing his gaze over the throng of people in the room.

In reply, Robert laughed his great booming laugh again, draining his goblet, "You'll find out, Kingslayer…I'm going to have some fun with this."