Author's Note: This is my first ASOIAF story. I've gotten caught up in the books and Jaime and Brienne just seemed like too much fun to leave alone. Also, since the books are, more or less, operating on the general theme of "things were bad and then they got worse," I figured a somewhat happier (no doubt AU!) story was in order. Rating may go up.


"Stop that, Wylbar," Aena says, blushing and slapping his hand away. She reaches for the corner of the large bed again, trying to smooth the sheets before he has a chance to reach out for her. "I got work that needs doing."

"You woulda asked Fat Miri to come up here with you if all you wanted was someone to help make the Kingslayer's bed. Come on, Aen, forget the sheets and be sweet to me," he says. He helps her lift the mattress and tuck the blankets under anyway.

She looks over at him and giggles. Wylbar grins back at her. He could not believe his good fortune the first time that she kissed him. It had been on a rare half-day off and they'd both gone into Flea Bottom to visit their families. Aena the Eyes, she's called in the lower city, for her dark eyes are almost improbably large. He grabs her hand and pulls her against his chest. This time, she stretches up to touch her lips to his. He does not realize that they are moving toward the bed until Aena's back is against the bedpost. She pulls away from him abruptly, looking down.

"Wyl," she says quietly. "We can't….I'm a….I'm not that type of-"

He leans down and kisses her soundly, then steps back. "I know," he says, sighing. "You're a right tease is what you are," he smiles as he says it, only half serious. Aena straightens her skirt and returns to tidying the room.

"Do you always clean his rooms?" Wylbar asks, looking around and taking in the neatly hung weapons and piles of dirty clothing for the first time.

"Aye," Aena says, blushing. "But he's never here. While I'm cleaning, I mean."

Wylbar's eyes narrow. He remembers watching the Kingslayer joust when he was a small boy; Jaime Lannister had been like something out of a story – young and laughing and always the victor. He remembers thinking that he would have given anything to be like the knight.

Now, though, seeing Aena's blush and the way she averts her eyes, he is overcome with a sudden loathing for the man. "He ever touched you? With the hand he's got left?"

"What?" Aena gasps, turning to look at him. "No! He took vows. He-"

"He's not in the Kingsguard no more," Wylbar says, shrugging. "And it didn't stop him having his sister when he was."

"He's not like that!" Aena says. "That's why Erlayne gave me his rooms to clean after….I had some trouble with…I used to clean…Whatever he done to the old queen, he don't bother serving girls."

"How you know if he's never here?" Wylbar asked.

"That's how I know," Aena said flatly, staring at him defiantly.

"What's he still doing here, anyway?" Wylbar asks, angrily reaching down to gather up the old sheets. "I thought after he was pardoned he was supposed to go haring off to Casterly Rock." Wager she's glad he didn't, he thinks, looking at Aena.

"How should I know? Wyl," she says softly. "The Kingslayer would no more look at me than at Lady Lollys."

"Bet you wish he would," Wylbar says sullenly. Bet you wouldn't have pushed him away, he thinks.

"Wylbar Waters," she says, putting down the basket she'd been filling with clothes. "He's handsome and all, but I don't want to be mixed up in anything like that. Cleaning bedchambers don't mean I'm a whore. I asked you to come because only man I want touching me is you. But if you're going to be-"

"Sorry," he says, smiling again. He crosses the room toward her and grabs her hand. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean it." He kisses her again. At first she hesitates, but then she is kissing him back, her body pressed up against his. He begins to stiffen and draws back, breathing hard. "Can't blame me for worrying," he says. "You're a sweeter armful than the Kingslayer's got now."

Aena smiles at him at she tries to tuck her hair back into its neat braid. "I haven't heard about any woman," she says.

He raises an eyebrow at her, "Well, not quite a woman…" he says. Aena's large eyes grow even larger and he laughs at her assumption.

"Go on then, tell me," she says, slapping his arm. Aena the Eyes has always had a weakness for gossip.

"They say he is doing more than one kind of sword fighting with Brienne the Beauty."

"What?" she says, wrinkling her nose. "I don't believe it."

He shrugs. "Not every woman knows better than to get mixed up with the men like him." He pulls her braid. "Can't all be as clever as you," he teases.

"But she's so plain," Aena says, snatching her hair away. "And the way that she carries on with that sword and walks around got up like a man. I can't even imagine-"

"Maybe they did on these sheets," he says, picking them up again and tossing them at her.

She shrieks and dodges, laughing. Neither she nor Wylbar hear the footsteps of someone approaching over their merriment.

"They can't have," she says with finality, reaching down to bunch up the sheets and shoving them into her basket. "It would be obscene."

"Which part?" Wylbar laughs, noting that she had done her best to keep the linens as far away from her body as possible, no matter what she said, "a handsome man like Jaime Lannister bedding an ugly cow or an honorable maid like Brienne of Tarth spreading her legs for the Kingslayer?"