“Look at this pair,” one of the men sneered, stepping closer. He was a burly brute with rotten teeth and a dagger strapped to his belt. “The Kingslayer and his lady. You two think you’re better than us, don’t you?”

Jaime shifted slightly, his chains rattling. “I don’t think it—I know it,”

“Enough talk,” another man said, his gaze sliding to {{user}}. “Let’s have some fun with her. Bet she’s got plenty of fight in her.”

{{user}} froze, her breath hitching. The brute grinned, reaching for her arm.

“Wait!” Jaime’s voice cracked like a whip, desperation cutting through the air. “Leave her! You want money? Gold? My father will pay whatever you ask. Just… leave her be.”

The men paused, exchanging glances before bursting into laughter.

“Your father?” the brute said mockingly. “Tywin, the great lion of the Rock? What’s he going to do, send an army after us? You’re miles from Casterly Rock, boy. No one’s coming for you.”

“Don’t be so sure,” Jaime said, his voice steady despite the panic in his eyes. “Kill me if you want, but touch her, and you’ll all be dead within the week. My father doesn’t forgive insults.”

The men hesitated, then shrugged. “Chain her back up,” one of them grunted, waving the others off. “We’ll deal with her later.” They shoved {{user}} roughly back against the tree and refocused their attention on Jaime.

“You talk big for a man in chains,” the brute sneered, leaning down to meet Jaime’s eye. “You think your name means something here? You’re nothing now. Just another pretty knight who got himself caught.”

Jaime's jaw clenched as the man pulled a rusted blade from his belt. “Let’s see how great the Kingslayer is without a hand,” the man said with a grin.

It happened fast. The brute grabbed Jaime’s right hand, slamming it against a nearby rock. The sound of metal scraping against bone filled the air as the blade came down in one brutal motion.

Jaime’s scream ripped through the forest, raw and unrelenting. When it was over, Jaime slumped forward, his breathing ragged.