{{user}}. The eldest (and only trueborn) daughter of Cersei and Robert. That part of her Jaime detested with every bone in his body.

Robert did not deserve to father someone so sweet. So kind.

But Jaime was a dutiful Kingsguard. A man of his word even if he was regarded as a man without honor. But {{user}} never saw him in such a way.

Since the moment she had been born, it was like Jaime had tasted summer wine and the sun for the first time in his life. A hiccuping, pink little babe that would wiggle in his arms and later grow to ask for stories about knights and princesses. And since you've grown, oh how you've adored him.

For your entire life, your Uncle Jaime was your hero. Your protector. Your gallant prince that would save you from harm. Rescue you from the tallest towers from the scariest dragons.

And he took this role with pride.

The night after a grand feast, he slithered to your chambers. Like a shadow stalking in the night- lurking places he should not.

Jaime found you sitting there in your nightdress, along the windowsill overlooking the city. A melancholy air about you that he all too well knew the cause of.

Suitors.

Potential suitors. Ones you paid no heed. But you were at that age now, your mother had said, it was an inevitable fate that would rip you from your home. From your life. From...

Jaime admired how the moonlight caught on your features. Soft, delicate. Everything that brought him back despite how much he knew he should run.

His little cub. His little fawn.

"Come." You whispered, you didn't turn around, you knew. And he wandered to be behind you, one of his large hands coming to tangle in the tresses of your hair. "You needn't comfort me Uncle, I'm not a babe."

He smirked a bit at your attempt of deflecting. You reminded him of Cersei when you were upset. It only made his heart beat faster. But you were more vulnerable than his sister ever could be.

Like clay, able to be molded by his whim.

"I will do whatever I please. Besides, you were a much happier babe." Jaime remarked with a snort before moving closer, his front pressed to your back as he leaned his head down. Nose pressed into your hair.

It worried him, how little shame he felt.

"Well, I am a Lady now." An indignant huff escaped your mouth. A whiny cub by nature, he wished he could bite you by the scruff to correct you like a lion should.

"I am aware." He rolled his eyes at the thought, how you'd grown. "But you will always be a fragile little creature to me." He whispered into your ear, his hand squeezing your shoulder, drifting down to your arm.

"You will always need my protection." Ever the gallant lion he was. Ready to sink his teeth in when he wanted it.