Numb(Jaime POV)

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I could barely sleep. 

Whenever I shut my eyes, I saw her face. Her eyes. Smelled her hair, felt her skin.

It was torture.

I could hear her laugh, and feel her warm body against mine.

I was not usually the one to cry, or show much emotion, but I was alone, and in pain. The tears that came were something I had never experienced. I stopped crying after my mother's death, yet here I am at the age of 40, crying over the love I pushed away. 

But I had to believe what I did was for her. Because it was. I did it for her. Not for me.

"My lord", greeted a maid as I walked past her. I didn't care enough to say or acknowledge her back.

The golden hand Cercei brought was heavy, uncomfortable but it was better than nothing. I had put on my Kingsguard armour once again but it did not feel right. Not as it once had.

I had heard that my father wanted to speak with me. I knew what about, but I would have to deny him once again. Now it was the reason that I could not look at another woman, touch another woman, even Cercei. It repulsed me. It's like Audelia had be under some sort of spell and I could not get free.

"Father", I greeted as I entered the Hand of the King room. It was different from the last time I saw it. To be fair, the last time I saw it, Ned Stark was here, and he was more of a simple man. Gold and bright colors meant nothing to him.

"Glad to see you alive, and well", began father. He looked at me up and down.

"Already back into your uniform? Not even a day went by", he asked.

"I took vows, I cannot possibly break them. I have a king to protect", I reply coldly. I wanted this to be done with already. 

"Right", replied father. I noticed a sword on his desk, it was littered with little jewels.  It was bright and looked very expensive. Father nodded to it.

"Take a look", he offered and I picked the sword up, and he helped me unleash it.

"Magnificent", I uttered as I looked at it carefully. My father hummed in agreement.

"Looks fresh forged", I add, not taking my eyes off it. 

"It is".

"No one has made a Valyrian steel sword since the doom of Valyria", I argued. It was light and strong in my hand. If I had both of my arms, nobody would be able to stand in my way.

"There are three living Smith's who know how to rework Valyrian steel, the finest of all of them was in Volantis, we had him come here to King's Landing at my invitation", replied father.

"Where did you get this much Valyrian steel?", I asked.

"From someone who no longer had need of it", replied father and I narrowed my eyes at him.

"Who?", I asked.

"Ned Stark's sword had no use, it was absurdly large we were able to make two swords out of it. One for you, the other for the King", replied father. I looked at the sword once again, shame falling over me. I could not carry around part of Ned Stark's sword. One of his children should. 

I tried to put it back into it's pocket, but was failing until father helped me.

"You'll have to train your left hand now", continued father.

"Any decent swordsman knows how to sue both hands", I reply, sitting down.

"Yes but you will never be as good", added father and I once again narrowed my eyes at him.

Winter Is Here // Game Of ThronesWhere stories live. Discover now