Rescuing Wolves

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/25276045.

Rating: Mature
Archive Warning: Major Character Death
Category: F/M
Fandom: Game of Thrones (TV)
Relationship: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth, Tyrion Lannister/Sansa Stark, Jaime
Lannister & Brienne of Tarth, Jaime Lannister & Catelyn Tully Stark,
Tyrion Lannister & Sansa Stark
Character: Jaime Lannister, Brienne of Tarth, Catelyn Tully Stark, Tyrion Lannister,
Sansa Stark, Arya Stark, Sandor Clegane, Bronn (ASoIaF), Jon Snow |
Aegon Targaryen, Minor Characters, Locke (Game of Thrones), Boltons
(ASoIaF), Cersei Lannister, Theon Greyjoy, Selwyn Tarth, Petyr Baelish
Additional Tags: Past Cersei Lannister/Jaime Lannister, Alternate Universe - Canon
Divergence, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Attempted Rape/Non-Con,
Canon through S2 E7, Angst with a Happy Ending, Torture, Butterfly
Effect, Idiots in Love, Catelyn ships it, But she also hates it
Series: Part 1 of Lions and Wolves
Stats: Published: 2020-07-15 Completed: 2020-09-03 Chapters: 55/55 Words:
154253

Rescuing Wolves
by BecauseBraime

Summary

Catelyn decides to take matters into her own hands and attempt a prisoner exchange. Jaime
Lannister for her daughters. Instead of sending Brienne alone, she goes with her and Jaime
to King's Landing. Her decision to go with Brienne and Jaime has a huge butterfly effect.

Notes

The first chapter is more of a setup. This chapter and the first few will have a good amount
of show dialogue pulled in.
 "I’m Going with You"

‘Who wants to die defending a Lannister?’

Brienne’s words rolled around in Catelyn’s head as she walked towards the pen where the
Kingslayer was being held. The men at camp grew restless and calls for the Kingslayer’s head
filled the night air. Brienne had the right of it. Jaime Lannister wouldn’t live out the night.

When Catelyn curtly dismissed the guard and indicated that her time with the Kingslayer would be
alone, she watched as the guard stormed away. Even outside the pen, the stench reached Catelyn’s
nose. The men had kept the Kingslayer chained to a post and caked in his own filth for moons on
end.

Chains were fastened around his neck and wrists, and his golden mop of hair was covered in mud.
Despite that, the lion sneered and spoke as though he was a free man. He infuriated Catelyn.

Brienne’s presence just outside the enclosure gave Catelyn the confidence that she would not find
her head bashed in with chains as the Kingslayer’s own cousin had. Lord Karstark’s son didn’t find
a warm welcome from the Kingslayer either. This lion was dangerous; even restrained.

At Catelyn’s back, Brienne was an intimidating presence. More man than woman in many regards.
Catelyn had been impressed with Brienne at Renly’s camp, but there was an innocence to her that
Catelyn felt a maternal instinct to protect.

She wasn’t a pretty woman. Catelyn imagined that Brienne would never have a husband nor babes
of her own. She would make a fine sworn sword though.

Stepping into the putrid smelling cell, Catelyn’s eyes fell on Jaime Lannister. He was all arrogance
even when chained to a post, sitting in his own piss and shit.

Gods. To think this vile man could have been my goodbrother. What was my father thinking at the
time?

“Come to say goodbye Lady Stark? I believe it’s my last night in this world.” Jaime’s eyes scanned
the figure looming over Catelyn’s shoulder. With furrowed brows and a curious expression, disgust
dripped from the Kingslayer’s words. “Is that a woman?”

Ignoring his question, Catelyn tilted her chin up. “Do you hear them out there? They’re calling for
your head.”

“Yes, Lord Karstark doesn’t much care for me.” Jaime’s tone dripped with sarcasm. His eyes
flashed with a dangerous amusement.

“You strangled his son with your chains.”

Jaime’s head rolled in mock surprise. “Ohhhh. Was he the one on duty?” With a heavy sigh, Jaime
shrugged his shoulders; the chains at his wrists clanging slightly. “He was in my way. Any knight
would have done the same.”

“You’re no knight.” Contempt dripped from Catelyn’s tone and her fists clenched at her side. A
slight tremor of the jaw betrayed Catelyn’s hatred for the man before her. “You have forsaken
every vow you ever took.”
“So many vows. They make you swear, and swear. What if your vows conflict with one another?
No matter what, you’re forsaking one vow for another.” Jaime paused and his eyes again locked on
Brienne. She had entered the pen as the Kingslayer spoke. “Where did you find this beast?”

Anger flared in Catelyn. She could not fashion two more opposite knights if she tried. Were it not
for Brienne’s sex, the young woman would have been knighted many moons ago. Brienne’s
character embodied everything that a knight should be. Brave, honorable, kind, and loyal.

Jaime Lannister on the hand was the personification of the knighthood’s corruption. He
represented what low moral character could do to an otherwise honored title.

Catelyn’s words dripped with venom as she looked into the man’s eyes. “She is a truer knight than
you will ever be, Kingslayer.”

“Kingslayer. What a king he was.” Jaime sneered and boasted of his deed; his killing of the man he
was sworn to protect.

“You’re a man without honor.” At Catelyn’s words, something flashed in Jaime’s eyes that made
her take pause.

When Jaime spoke next, Catelyn felt her blood boil. “You know, I’ve never been with anyone but
Cersei. In a way, I suppose you could say that I have more honorable than poor, old, dead Ned.
What was the name of that bastard he fathered?”

“Brienne.” Catelyn’s voice was a command to her sworn sword. The young woman took a
menacing step forward and kept her eyes trained on the man before them. From the corner of
Catelyn’s eyes, she saw Brienne’s hand move to the hilt of her sword.

“No. Brienne wasn’t it…” Jaime feigned ignorance and tilted his head as though fighting to recall
Jon’s name. “Ah, yes. Jon Snow. Bastard from the North. Now when good old Ned came home
with that whore’s babe, did you pretend to love it? No, I imagine not. You’re too honest. Seems to
be the perpetual downfall of your House. You hated the boy… didn’t you? How could you not? He
was a walking, talking reminder that your honorable husband fucked another woman.”

“Brienne. Your sword.” Another command as Catelyn kept her eyes fixed on Jaime. She wanted
nothing more than to see his head on a spike. She and Lord Karstark could toast to it as they stood
shoulder to shoulder. They could send his rotting carcass covered in filth back to Tywin.

Catelyn couldn’t though. She needed her daughters back, and this creature before her was the only
way to see that happen. An exchange would be made.

“Cut his ties, remove the shackle about his neck, and cover his head. We need to move quickly to
the horses.”

Brienne moved swiftly at Catelyn’s command and sliced through the bindings holding Jaime to the
post. His eyes went wide, but before he could react, the hilt of Brienne sword knocked him
unconscious.

Good. That will shut him up.

“I’m sorry, my lady. I didn’t want to risk him trying to make a run for it. I can drag him to the
horses.” Brienne’s voice was quiet, but resolute. She worked quickly to ensure the chains around
the Kingslayer’s wrists were tight and that his head was covered. Even covered in shit, Jaime’s
golden locks would be a beacon for the men at camp.
Making haste for the tree line, Catelyn mounted one of two horses and turned to see Brienne tying
Jaime to the second. When the young woman finished, she looked to Catelyn in confusion.

“My lady, I thought you wished me to take him to King’s Landing as a prisoner exchange for your
daughters?”

Studying the unconscious man atop the horse behind her, Catelyn took a deep breath and met
Brienne’s eyes. She trusted the young woman with the task, but this was something that she needed
to see done. Robb had adequate protection with the army.

He had a wife now to help guide him; even if Catelyn would have preferred a different woman to
warm his bed. Robb would be furious when he returned to camp on the morrow, but Catelyn
needed to see to her daughters’ safety.

Gods. I hope he comes to forgive me. I hope he understands why I must do this.

Looking to Brienne, Catelyn took a deep breath and responded. “They’re my daughters. I’m going
with you.”
 "You’re much uglier in daylight"
Chapter Summary

Brienne, Jaime, and Catelyn being their journey towards King's Landing. Jaime
devises a plan to escape.

“You’re much uglier in daylight.” Jaime stared up at Brienne’s face. His nose crinkled in distaste as
he took in the sight of her in better lighting. Moments earlier, he had been unceremoniously flung
from a horse as they made haste for what seemed nearly a day of hard riding.

Looking to the sky, Jaime noted the fading sun. A light breeze pushed through the woods and
allowed Jaime to suck in a breath of fresh air. The cloth cover they had placed over his head with
was stifling and smelled of mold.

“Gods. Do you ever shut up?” Catelyn shook her head and tugged off her riding gloves. Surveying
the area, the Stark matriarch took appraisal of their surroundings.

Jaime had overheard them speaking as they rode. They were taking him to King’s Landing in
exchange for Catelyn’s daughters. Robb would have arrived back at camp that morning, and the
young wolf would likely send men out looking for them.

Well isn’t this the worst plan I’ve ever been an unwilling participant in. If the wolves don’t catch
and kill me, the lions will catch and kill them. My father will never give up Catelyn’s daughters,
but he will give her as generous a cell as her son gave me. This dolt woman will be beheaded just
as her husband before her.

Hauling Jaime to his feet, the beast of a woman grabbed his arm and tugged him forward. When he
saw the giantess the night prior, he couldn’t truly appreciate her height from his seated position.
Now that they stood shoulder to shoulder, Jaime could see that she had an inch or two on him.

The armor did her no favors either. It was unflattering and made her look even broader. Jaime’s
mind wandered to Cersei. Sweet Cersei with her womanly curves, pouty lips, and dainty hands.
The beast’s hands were large. Too large for a proper woman.

“What’s your name? I’m Jaime Lannister of Casterly Rock. Son of Tywin. A captive knight has a
right to know his captor’s identity.” Jaime studied her plain face and too thick lips. The beastly
woman tied a rope to his chains as they trailed behind Catelyn.

I recall Catelyn calling her Brienne. By the look of her, she must be a bastard by birth or a father’s
choice.

“Lady Brienne, you do not need to speak him.” Catelyn did not look back but continued walking
ahead as she addressed the woman.

Jaime snorted and shook his head. “Lady Brienne. I don’t see any lady here. Gods Lady Stark, you
don’t even know this beast shadowing you, do you? I’m fairly certain that we’ll both be pissing
against trees as our journey goes.”

With a sideways glance to Brienne, Jaime could see her jaw clench tightly, but she otherwise gave
no reaction. The mannish woman continued to stare ahead resolutely, following Catelyn like a
whipped dog.

If I can break her emotionally, she’ll make a mistake and I can take her sword. I’ll kill them both
before she even realizes what has happened.

“Do you hear that? Your lady thinks you a woman. How rude. Mayhap she heard your name
incorrectly. I’m guessing Brian? Lord Brian? Which House are from, Brian?”

Stopping in her tracks, Catelyn rounded on Jaime and snarled. “Her name is Lady Brienne and you
will do well to remember it. It concerns you not which House she is from.”

Jaime shrugged and put up his hands in mock defense. “It’s a long way to King’s Landing. Just
thought we might get to know one another.”

“What you need to do is keep you mouth closed or I’ll have Lady Brienne close it for you.”

With a huff of laughter, Jaime appraised Brienne. “So long as she doesn’t silence me with a kiss.
Although, I’m certain that would likely be her first, wouldn’t it? Have you known many men? I
suppose not. Women? Horses?”

Still the beast said nothing as they approached the riverbed. A canoe sat on the shoreline as small
waves lapped against its wooden side. Shoving him to the ground beside Catelyn, Brienne looked
downstream for signs of passing soldiers. Both armies would be looking for them now. They had
nowhere to hide.

Glancing back at Brienne, Jaime saw her lips press into a tight line as her eyes continued to search
downstream. Large, sapphire pools scanned the area before them.

I suppose the Gods took pity on her with the eyes at least. The rest of her is most unfortunate.

“I meant no offense, my lady. Forgive me.” Jaime’s tone feigned seriousness, but the mocking
undertone was easy enough to detect.

Not that I truly care if you take offense.

“Your crimes are past forgiveness, Kingslayer.” Brienne replied in hushed tones beside him.

“Why do you hate me so much? Have I ever harmed you?”

Nor do I care how you feel about me.

“You’ve harmed others. Those you were sworn to protect. The weak. The innocent. The…”

Interrupting her, Jaime’s words was devoid of any amusement. His voice was louder than moments
earlier as he glared at her.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re as boring as you are ugly?”

Catelyn turned back to them and glared at Jaime before looking to Brienne. “It’s clear. We should
get in the canoe quickly.”

Grabbing Jaime by the shoulders, Brienne shoved him roughly out of the way. She muttered under
her breath at him. “You will not provoke me to anger.”

Jaime felt laughter bubbling in his core. His plan to drive her mad was going perfectly. She liked to
play at indifference, but she wasn’t deaf. He was a chained lion, but he still had fangs and he
would use them.

“Well I already have. Look at you! Ready to chop my head off.” Jaime smiled widely as she glared
and returned to the canoe. Easing the small vessel into the water, Brienne helped Catelyn get inside
before returning to him.

“Will you hold my hand while I get in too?” Jaime teased as she shoved him into the middle of the
small vessel. He chuckled and gazed up at Catelyn who looked disgusted at his mere presence.

“I bet you never thought to find me between your legs, Lady Stark. Surely your sister was
disappointed that her betrothal to me never came to pass. Think of how much fun our families
could have had.”

In truth, nothing had disgusted Jaime more than the thought of marrying Lysa Tully. Boring. Ugly.
Weird. So weird. Not Cersei.

Catelyn kneed him hard in the head as she shifted to sit sideways, facing out towards the water. She
feigned innocence as Jaime grunted in pain. “Oh, apologies. Difficult to maneuver around that
swollen head of yours.”

Brienne stepped into the boat after pushing them off from shore. Paddling them down the river,
Jaime set back to the task of harassing her mercilessly. “Do you think you can beat me in a fair
fight?”

“Yes.” The giantess was unamused as she answered brusquely.

“You can’t. There are only three men who could defeat me in single combat, and you’re not one of
them. Although… you are rather mannish.”

He could see Brienne’s jaw clenching again as she focused on paddling. “All my life, men like you
have sneered at me. All my life, I’ve been knocking men like you to the dust.”

“If you’re so confident, unlock my chains, row us ashore, and we’ll see it done.”

Catelyn snorted from above him and rolled her eyes. “Loras Tyrell beat you in a tournament once,
did he not? Ned was quite pleased when he heard of it.”

Jaime scoffed and looked at her as he righted himself. “What of it?”

“Lady Brienne defeated Ser Loras to win the melee that Renly hosted. I suppose there is no need to
remove the chains, now is there?”

What? She may be a beast of a woman, but she didn’t beat that priss, Loras Tyrell. Even if she did,
Loras was likely injured or distracted.

“That proves nothing. Loras was likely preoccupied picturing Renly’s cock in his mouth.”

At his words, an oar came swinging hard across his face. Brienne deposited the oar into the water
at the other side of the canoe and continued rowing. “Apologies. Canoe is a bit cramped and Lady
Catelyn seems to have had the right of it about that head of yours.”

Jaime gaped at her as water dripped down the side of his face. An angry, red mark formed at the
impact, and Jaime could detect a faint smile tugging at the beast’s lips. From his back, Catelyn
chuckled in amusement as they continued to row downstream.
Fucking miserable women. I’ll see their heads on spikes when this journey is done.

They made their way downriver in silence for some time as Jaime’s mind conjured other ways to
strike at Brienne’s figurative armor. He sought to identify find cracks in her defenses that would
see her distracted and sloppy when the time came.

“Gods. I hope the two of you don’t get your moonblood at the same time. What a miserable affair
that would be.” Jaime assessed Brienne’s reaction. The beastly woman looked to Jaime as though
he was the greatest dolt she ever met. Pressing further, he went for the kill. “Waste of rags on you
at least. Your womb will obviously never quicken.”

There it is. Her eyes are too expressive. That strike found its mark.

Brienne didn’t respond, but Catelyn muttered obscenities at his back. “And you will never hold a
child that you can call your own. Another man claimed your bastards. You are doomed to watch
from afar as your sister spreads her legs for others.”

Jaime felt rage pool in his gut. He twisted his midsection to glare at Catelyn. “My sister was forced
to wed that drunken whoremonger. She has been faithful to me otherwise.”

A mocking chuckle escaped Catelyn’s lips and she nodded in faux agreement. “Yes, I’m certain
she has been nothing if but faithful.”

I’m not Robert. I will not strike a woman, but so help me, if this woman does not shut her mouth…

Jaime tried to keep the anger from his tone. He did not want Catelyn to know that she had hit a
nerve. “Spoken like a woman scorned. It was your lover who went astray. I do believe there is
physical proof enough of that dalliance.”

“Shut your mouth Kingslayer or you’ll taste the hilt of Lady Brienne’s sword again.”

Jaime raised a brow and looked back to Brienne. He spoke teasingly as he met her eyes. “Did you
hear that Lord Brian? Your lady would have you discipline me for stating the obvious. Now be a
nice lad and row faster. The fading sun is in my face. It’s as difficult to look upon as your face.”
 "I serve Lady Catelyn"
Chapter Summary

The trio continue to make their way south. Catelyn worries after Brienne and they run
into their first bit of trouble.

Chapter Notes

Like the first couple of chapters, this has a lot of show heavy elements and dialogue.
Future chapters start to get away from that.

Days of repetitive activity wore on Catelyn’s psyche. They would row down river for hours on end,
and then make camp in concealed areas off the river’s edge. The Kingslayer was merciless in his
quest to rattle Brienne.

Catelyn worried after the young woman. It was clear that the Kingslayer sought to drive Brienne to
the point of carelessness. The young woman surprised Catelyn and held her tongue through much
of it.

Brienne’s face betrayed little, though her eyes gave away everything. Catelyn pitied the girl. She
likely endured mockery throughout her life. She had learned to play at indifference even if the
words cut deep.

While Brienne’s resolve seemed strong, there was only so much a person could take; particularly
on limited sleep. Catelyn’s sworn sword did all the physical labor during the day. She rowed them
downstream, setup camp, caught food, and gathered kindling. On top of it, Brienne took watch at
night.

Catelyn would arise just before the sun so that Brienne could get a couple of hours rest. It troubled
Catelyn to think on sustainable that would be. She approached Brienne about it the night prior after
the Kingslayer had fallen asleep.

“You need more rest. Mayhap I should take some time at the start of the night as well.”

Brienne worried at her lip. “My lady, I don’t trust that man. He killed his own cousin and used his
chains to strangle Lord Karstark’s son. I feel better about your safety if I’m awake.”

Catelyn sighed and rubbed at the bridge of her nose. “It seems unreasonable to expect you to
survive this journey on such little sleep. I’ll help with the kindling and setting up camp each day.
You need some respite”

With a small smile and shrug, Brienne met her eyes. “I’m accustomed to handling it all on my own,
even at Renly’s camp. The men didn’t wish to have me among their ranks. They treated me as my
own army for the most part. At night… I felt safest stay awake. I’m habituated to little rest.”
Discounting Brienne’s unfortunate looks, the young woman reminded Catelyn of Arya. Like
Brienne, Arya had a penchant for male activities. Arya was always with a weapon in hand and
skipping out on lessons with the septa. She wanted to be a knight, just as Catelyn assumed Brienne
held similar ambitions.

It would never happen for either girl, but at least Arya could secure a favorable match. Catelyn
suspected that Brienne would struggle to find a husband.

Gods. I do hope her lord father has other children. I should have asked her before. Brienne seems
a kind, albeit rigid girl. A bit rough around the edges, but incredibly loyal and hardworking. Sadly,
I don’t imagine she’ll produce heirs. I hope Lord Selwyn is proud of her for doing what she can.

The canoe made its way ashore for another break in the day. Brienne had been doing all the rowing
while Catelyn played lookout and the Kingslayer lazed about like a useless house cat.

“Were you a foot taller than all the boys? Gods, your childhood must have been awful for you. I
bet you wished one of them could overpower, throw you down, tear off your clothes. Make you
feel what it’s like to be a woman.” Jaime continued to harass Brienne as they all stepped onto shore
and Brienne pulled the canoe onto the sandy shoreline.

Jaime looked back at Brienne and smiled arrogantly. “I bet none of them were strong enough.” His
brow arched suggestively as he continued. “I’m strong enough.”

Ugh, Gods. This man is disgusting. Does he truly have no decency? No shame?

Brienne spoke curtly and shoved him hard in the back. “Not interested.”

As they moved onto the dirt path near the forest edge, a trio of dead women hung across a long,
thick tree branch that stretched out over the trail. A light breeze caused the corpses to sway slightly
and one wore a sign that read ‘They lay with lions’.

“Ah, yes. The fine work of the honorable Northerners.” Jaime sneered and looked to Catelyn.

She felt bile rise in her throat as she took in the scene before them.

My son’s army did this. They murdered these women in cold blood.

Before she could think on it further, Catelyn saw Brienne pull the the Kingslayer towards a nearby
tree and begin to tie him off as she did nightly.

“What are you doing?” The Kingslayer scoffed and looked at Brienne as though she had gone mad.

Wondering what Brienne was thinking, Catelyn stepped closer and assessed her face. The young
woman finished tying Jaime to the trunk and walked back towards the tree, unsheathing her sword
in the process. “Brienne, what are you doing? We need to keep moving.”

“My lady, this will only take a moment. We can’t leave them like this. I’ll bury them quickly along
the side here.”

Oh, sweet summer child. These women won’t thank you for it. There’s no time for all this.

The sound of approaching male voices came from around a slight bend in the road. Brienne
stepped in front of Catelyn and spoke urgently. “My lady. You need to hide. If they recognize him,
I’ll say that I took the Kingslayer against your orders.”
Catelyn gaped at Brienne but moved quickly behind a large tree trunk. Appraising the land around
them, she found a small thicket to duck into. It was their only chance. Catelyn hoped that the
Kingslayer’s shabby state would prevent the men from recognizing him. Brienne was an unknown
to the Northerners, but Catelyn would be identified in an instant.

Gods. Don’t let these men recognize the Kingslayer. I need my daughters back. I can’t see us
returned to Robb.

Jaime spoke through gritted teeth and looked imploringly to Brienne. “Untie me. Give me a
sword.”

They were Stark men. Three of them with each looking more repugnant than the last. One of the
men called out to Brienne. “Woah, woah. What do we ‘ave ‘ere?”

Brienne moved slowly towards Jaime but stood tall. “Traveling a prisoner.”

The men broke out into obnoxious laughter. “Ya hear that boys!? A woman. Oh, fuck me.”

Catelyn watched from her crouched position as Brienne’s jaw clenched. In an expression
comparable to the one she displayed over the last several days, Brienne looked to the ground and
swallowed her rage before raising her eyes to the men.

“If you’re quite finished…” Brienne’s words were again cutoff by the men’s laughter. Bending at
the waist and guffawing loudly at her, the men seemed nothing if but entertained.

“Alright we’ll be going.” Brienne moved towards Jaime and began to untie him from the tree. One
of the men took a step forward.

“Who do you fight for?” The man’s mirth faded as he asked the question and studied Brienne.

Tilting her chin high, Brienne answered immediately. “The Starks.”

The man considered her and glanced back at his companions before asking her another question.
“What did he do?”

Oh Gods. This girl can’t lie to save her life. We’re done for.

Before Brienne could answer, Jaime scoffed. Lowering his eyes to the ground, Jaime attempted an
accent that Catelyn could not place. “Apparently eatin’ is a crime.”

By the Gods, Jaime. What is that!?

Brienne interjected quickly and spoke over his muttering. “No, stealing is a crime.”

Technically not a lie. Well played.

The same man took another step forward and studied the pair. “Where ya takin’ him?”

Brienne sucked in a deep breath and spoke confidently. “Riverrun. You steal from the Tullys and
its their dungeons you rot in.”

Good girl.

Another man stepped forward to stand beside his comrade. He eyed them suspiciously and spoke in
a questioning tone. “Why not kill ‘im then?”
Again, Jaime attempted his horrific attempt at an accent and glared at the man. “For stealin’ a
pig!?”

By the Seven. Do shut up. Stop drawing attention to yourself.

“I just transport the prisoners. I don’t question it. He must be important to someone.” Brienne
continued untying Jaime from the tree and glanced to the man.

“Sendin’ him with you? How important can he be?” The man raised a brow. His tone was mocking
as he licked his lips. Brienne’s face fell as she finished untying Jaime.

The smallest of the men who had not yet spoken, stepped forward and studied Jaime’s face.
Catelyn felt her heart hammering in her throat. “Do I know ya?”

Jaime kept his head down but glanced up at the man through his lashes. “Ever been to Ashemark?”
At the man’s denial, Jaime shrugged. “Then you don’t know me.”

Brienne’s stance was challenging as she tugged Jaime from the tree. The men must have been
satisfied with the questioning and watched as the pair began to walk away. Before they got far, one
of the men called out after glancing back at the dead women and his friends.

“What do ya think of these beauties?”

Catelyn felt her heart race. She willed Brienne to say nothing that would incite the men. Watching
her sworn sword, Catelyn observed the resignation on Brienne’s face before she spoke.

“I hope you gave them a quick death.”

The man laughed sardonically and again glanced back to his friends. “Aye, two of ‘em.”

Catelyn released a breath that she didn’t realize she was holding. Brienne’s eyes darted quickly to
the thicket as she turned her back to the men. She grabbed Jaime’s arm and tugged him back
towards the canoe. Catelyn resigned herself to being stuck in the thicket for some time until
Brienne could circle back for her later.

Then, the smaller man called again. “Hey! I do know him! That’s Jaime Lannister.”

Jaime snorted at the man. “I wish someone had told me. I wouldn’t have had to steal that pig.”

Catelyn rolled her eyes and grumbled to herself. The other two men tilted their heads questioningly
at their friend. Before any of the men could comment further, Brienne shook her head and spoke
convincingly.

“Sorry to disappoint, but he’s not. I heard that the Kingslayer escaped with Lady Catelyn. Do you
think I’m her as much as you think this vermin is the Kingslayer?”

Catelyn bit back a laugh and watched as Brienne tugged Jaime toward the canoe. The man
followed and pointed insistently at them. “That’s the Kingslayer! I seen him at Whisperin’
Woods!”

Brienne’s voice was heavy with irritation and she nudged Jaime forward again. “He’s not the
Kingslayer. If he was, I can assure you that I would only be traveling his head.” The other men
began to step forward more urgently at their comrade’s conviction.

The man who asked about the swinging corpses met Brienne’s eyes. “I have a question for ya both.
I want ya to answer at the same time. When I count to three, ya both answer. What is his name?”
The man pointed a finger at Jaime. His face devoid of the mirth it contained earlier.

The man who identified Jaime moved closer at Brienne’s side and continued to study Jaime’s face.
The hesitation would cost him.

“One… two… th..” Before the man could count to three, Brienne shoved Jaime hard with her left
shoulder. At the same time, her right hand moved to her hip and unsheathed her sword. In the blink
of an eye, her sword was drawn and sliced across the smaller man’s neck.

As the second man moved forward and reached out, Brienne’s free hand grabbed at her dagger.
She stabbed the second under the chin while simultaneously slicing the third man’s leg with her
sword. Within a heartbeat, Brienne yanked the dagger from the man’s chin and spun around the slit
his throat with her sword.

The third man dragged himself backwards on the ground as blood gushed out from the wound.
Shock and fear were writ across his face. Brienne threw her dagger and sword to the ground before
unsheathing her second sword. “Two quick deaths…”

At the words, Brienne slowly pushed her sword into the gut of the third man; the man who had
bragged about affording only two of the women a quick death. A sickening gurgle pushed past the
man’s lips as he writhed in pain.

A slow death indeed. Gods. She killed those three men in less time than most knights can kill one.

Catelyn’s eyes went wide at the scene before her. For his part, Jaime stood in shock watching
everything transpire. He made no move to pick up one of the discarded weapons. It was as though
he was in a trance, gawking at Brienne.

Standing from the thicket, Catelyn moved quickly to the path and picked up the dagger and sword.
Jaime’s eyes finally blinked as he continued to stand dumbfounded, watching Brienne.

“Those were Stark men.” His voice came out small and filled with wonder.

Brienne glared at him and sheathed her sword. “I don’t serve the Starks. I serve Lady Catelyn.”
 "You’re still a wench though"
Chapter Summary

Jaime learns more about the woman yanking him around on a rope.

Jaime stared dumbfounded at the dead Stark bannermen littering the forest floor. Glancing to
Catelyn, he could see the internal conflict playing out on her face. These were her House’s men,
but they stood between her chance at getting her daughters back.

“Those were Stark men.” He barely heard his own voice as he spoke.

“I don’t serve the Starks. I serve Lady Catelyn.” Brienne glanced at Jaime and raised a challenging
brow before repeating his words from a week earlier at Robb’s camp. “They were in my way…
any knight would have done the same.”

Jaime’s mouth hung open slightly as he appraised the beastly woman. Brienne quickly made
makeshift graves for the dead whores. A solemn expression adorned her face as she worked.

For such a vicious killer, she was achingly innocent. The woman was a walking dichotomy. One
thing was clear to Jamie, however. She had earned his respect. It bothered him immensely.

That was… impressive. I judged her falsely.

From his side, Catelyn muttered with amusement heavy in her voice. “You mouth is gaping like a
fool. Best to close it unless you mean to feast on flies for lunch.”

Jaime turned to glare at the woman. His face scrunched in distaste. “Fuck off.”

When the dead women were afforded a more appropriate burial, albeit hasty, Brienne moved back
to the dirt path and offered a small smile to Catelyn. They continued onward without a word for
some time. Catelyn knew the area well and thought it best to keep to the road.

Further ahead, the river would have larger crossing points for armies. For the next week, they
walked through fields and woods, sleeping on dirt and leaves. No additional threats crossed paths
with them, and Jaime lamented it.

I should like to see another performance such as the last. Gods, if only I had a fucking sword in
hand. We could have a competition for who could slay the most men the fastest.

That night, Jaime lay curled on his side struggling to find sleep. The women were down by a small
stream and engaged in a quiet conversation.

Gods. Is it a conversation or a monologue? Does the beast talk, boring as she is, or is Catelyn just
that annoying?

Brienne sat quietly while Catelyn prattled on, shifting from one topic to the next. Trying to ignore
them, Jaime rolled onto his other side and squeezed his eyes shut. It was difficult to get
comfortable at night when tied off to a tree.
Whatever light remained soon faded from the sky, and Catelyn ran out of topics to ramble about.
After a much-appreciated silence, Catelyn spoke again.

“Have you always wanted to be a knight? My youngest daughter, Arya, dreams of nothing more.”
Catelyn’s tone was wistful as she spoke of her daughter.

“No, my lady.”

Catelyn’s voice betrayed her shock at the response. “Truly? I just thought… well, I suppose I
shouldn’t have assumed.”

“It’s alright. Most people look at me and would expect no less. Except knights. They look at me
and see a great jape.” Brienne seemed reconciled to the fact. Not bitter or annoyed.

“I’m sorry you’re having to endure all of this.” Catelyn’s tone was heavy with guilt.

Her!? I’m enduring the two of you. Where is sympathy for me?

Brienne’s voice was small; a contradiction to her size. “I’m happy to serve you, my lady.”

“What I mean, is that I’m sorry you have to endure him. He’s being intentionally cruel to you. Just
ignore all the horrid things he is saying. He’s trying to provoke you in the hope that you make a
mistake.” The hatred in Catelyn’s tone did not elude Jaime.

Jaime bit back a laugh before the realization hit him that his little game had been figured out.
Rolling his eyes in annoyance, Jaime tried to tune them out, but Brienne’s next words caught him
by surprise.

“It’s alright, my lady. I’ve heard it all my life. There is nothing so different about what he says.
Same words. Different speaker.” The resignation in Brienne’s voice shocked Jaime. He had
expected Brienne to vent about him, or perhaps share her secret desire to run him through with a
sword. Cut him down like one of those Stark soldiers.

“All your life? You’re a noblewoman. Surely you parents would have interceded.” Catelyn spoke
in an incredulous tone. She made a fair point. As much as Tywin hated Tyrion, he would never
allow anyone to mock his son. Tywin despised being mocked because of their grandfather, and he
made it his life’s mission to ensure no one with the Lannister name was insulted without
repercussion.

“I don’t remember my mother, my lady. She died on the birthing bed when I was quite young. Her
screams were all I remember of her.”

Brienne’s admission reminded Jaime of his own mother. When she died birthing Tyrion, any light
at the Rock was snuffed out. Without Joanna, Tywin was cruel and bitter.

“Your father then? Surely Lord Selwyn wouldn’t have allowed his people to taunt you.”

Selwyn. Lord Selwyn. The only Selwyn I know that is a lord, is Selwyn Tarth. She must be Brienne
Tarth. A Stormlander. That explains why she served Renly.

Brienne’s voice came out shaky in response to Catelyn’s words. “I only brought him shame. I
didn’t see him very much after my siblings died.”

“How many siblings did you have?”

“An older brother and twin sisters. The twins didn’t live long though. Less than a year.” Brienne’s
tone was matter of fact. A slight sigh pushed past her lips.

“And your brother? How old was he?”

“He drowned at eight. I was four. I remember him enough. He would have made a wonderful lord
for Tarth.” Brienne’s tone was heavy with fondness. The feeling was one that Jaime knew all too
well. He missed his mother and remembered her kindness. Her warmth. Something that his father
did not afford him.

“Well, Lord Selwyn still has you. I can’t believe he let his last living child go off to war. My Ned
would have bolted you to the castle.” Catelyn huffed in obvious disapproval of Selwyn’s
carelessness.

Jaime hated concurring with Catelyn, but she had the right of it.

How stupid of Lord Selwyn to allow his only remaining child to go fight for Renly fucking
Baratheon.

“With all due respect, my lady, I disagree. I failed my father as an heir. It was a mercy that I left. It
will be a greater mercy still if I never return.”

Catelyn scoffed. “Nonsense. You are still young. Has he never tried to find you a match?”

Brienne stammered slightly and her voice was barely audible from where Jaime lay at a distance
with his back to them. “I had three betrothals, my lady. I failed him three times. He has given up
now. There will be no more matches.”

Catelyn’s words gave voice to Jaime’s thoughts. “Three!? Gods, girl. What happened?”

“The first died before we met. The second took one look at me and... well, I’m certain you can
imagine his thoughts. No one else would have me. It’s no secret in the Stormlands what I look like.
The third needed land. A friend of my father’s; near sixty namedays. He was willing to endure me
if I behaved like a lady.” Brienne’s voice shifted from shame to pride at her next words. “I broke
some of his ribs in a spar. There was no wedding after that.”

A small laugh pushed past Brienne’s lips, but Catelyn did not share her humor on the matter. “That
is truly horrible, Brienne.”

The small laughter from Brienne’s lips ceased at the words. Her voice returned to its usual stern
tone. “I’m sorry, my lady. That was unworthy of me. I shouldn’t have taken advantage of his age.
He was defenseless.”

“No, you misunderstand me. I mean that what has happened to you is horrible.” Catelyn sighed and
her voice grew distant. “Your father should have protected you from it all.”

“He could no sooner protect me from the sky being blue or the grass green. No one has ever said
anything that was untrue. I know what I look like and the impossibilities it creates, but I can fight. I
will serve you well. I swear it.”

“I trust you will, but you can’t serve me forever. You are a noblewoman and the only heir to your
House. I had not realized when I brought you with me from Renly’s camp.”

Desperation took hold of Brienne’s tone as she replied urgently. “My lady, please. Do not send me
away when this is done. I’m not fit for anything else. If I write my father, he will tell you himself.
I’m useless to Tarth.”

Catelyn sighed and paused before responding. “We will speak on it later. We should get rest. There
is still much ground to cover before we get to King’s Landing.”

“Yes, my lady. I’ll keep watch.”

The sound of approaching footsteps signaled Catelyn’s retreat towards the fire and he heard her
settle at a distance. Once more, Jaime tried to find sleep. Despite the restored quiet, his mind could
not stop replaying the conversation he overheard.

Shame flooded Jaime. As a boy, Tyrion was mocked endlessly, but never when Jaime was around.
He made certain of it. No one made fun of Tyrion when Tywin was around either.

It wasn’t that Tywin cared for Tyrion. Tywin only cared that the Lannister name was respected.
Behind closed doors, Tywin was just as cruel to Tyrion.

At least Tyrion had me, I suppose. Aunt Genna and a couple of the cousins were good to him too. It
seems Brienne had no one. Just cruelty.

Like Tyrion, Brienne stood out. She was different and not in an alluring way. That much was
painfully obvious to anyone with eyes.

I’m no better than everyone who insulted my brother for things he has no control over. Mayhap I
should cease needling Brienne about her looks. Pick on something she can control. Her armor is
absurd. She grimaces when she lunges. She is a horrid conversationalist. She cuts her hair as a
boy of ten might.

That night, Jaime dreamed of Tyrion. They were playing on the beach as they often did when
Jaime wasn’t training or trailing after Cersei. Jaime jumped into the waves and turned around to see
where Tyrion was. Tyrion typically watched on from one of the rocks dotting the shoreline; a book
in hand and a smile on his face.

In his dream, Tyrion was soon surrounded by boys from Lannisport. They were mocking him and
pushing him. He fell backwards off the rock and scrambled to his feet. The boys closed in and
shoved him harder. Rage consumed Jaime as he screamed out to them, but his voice was swallowed
by the sound of the waves crashing ashore.

Jaime tried to swim in, but he made little progress. A strong undertow kept him from reaching
shore. As Jaime’s distance from the shore grew, the boys became more violent. Jaime thrashed his
arms wildly and looked around for aid from a passing vessel. He screamed out for Tyrion;
desperate to stop the assault on his little brother.

Abruptly, Jaime was awoken from his dream by someone shaking him. A pair of the most
beautiful eyes he had ever seen were looking down at him. Jaime felt his breath catch at the sight,
but then the beast’s voice removed the last vestiges of sleep from him.

“You were screaming. You’re likely to draw every army in Westeros to us if you keep that up.”

Jaime watched wordlessly as Brienne walked back to the beach and sat down. It was early still, and
the first rays of sun were breaking over the horizon. The sun kissed Brienne’s blonde locks as she
cleaned her sword. Between her hair and the golden armor, Brienne seemed to glow. A slight pink
hue dotted her cheeks as her lips pressed together in concentration.

What a miserable sight to wakeup to. She’s worse to look upon than those dead tavern wenches.
Yes, that’s what I’ll call her. Wench.

“I take it back, wench. You’re ugly in any light.”

Jaime watched Brienne bristle slightly, but she swallowed down a retort. Brienne returned to
polishing her blade. Even from the distance, her face looked more downtrodden than usual.
Remembering his dream and the conversation he overheard last night, Jaime chastised himself for
the words.

With a sigh, Jaime set up and stretched as best he could for a chained man anchored to a tree.
Ensuring Catelyn was still asleep and could not hear him, Jaime spoke just loudly enough for his
words to reach Brienne’s ears.

“Apologies. That was unworthy.” Taking pause, his eyes darted away before he glanced back at
her. “You’re still a wench though.”
 "This won’t feel pleasant"
Chapter Summary

More walking through the Riverlands. Brienne reflects on things and deals with Jaime
being Jaime.

“You’re insufferable.” Catelyn grunted at Jaime as she continued to march ahead. The Kingslayer
had been relentlessly pestering her all morning. Brienne had to admit, it was a nice change of pace
to not be the one trapped in the lion’s claws.

“But you did admit that I’m charming. I always knew you were attracted to me.”

Turning on heel, Catelyn pointed an accusatory finger at Jaime. “I said that you think you’re
charming. Let me be clear, you are not. And I am certainly not attracted to you.”

An arrogant smile flashed across Jaime’s face and he chuckled at Catelyn’s flagrant irritation.
Brienne could do little more than sigh. The man was intolerable. She had spent the past fortnight
since their departure from Robb’s camp fantasizing about ways to kill him off.

When Catelyn told her just days ago that the Kingslayer pushed her son from a tower, crippling the
boy with intent to kill, Brienne felt a new level of hatred for the man.

He kills a man he was sworn to protect. He cripples an innocent child. He is no knight. He sullied
the title.

Catelyn scoffed and continued to tear into Jaime. “What I am however attracted to, is the thought
of your head on a spike.”

“You wish my head on a spike so that you may look upon it openly?” Jaime teased as Catelyn
renewed her march forward. They ducked through some thick shrubbery and emerged into an open
field. Brienne scanned the area for passersby. The day was hotter than most and Brienne felt the
sun beating down on the back of her neck.

Great. Another sunburn. More freckles to adorn my skin.

The armor Brienne wore was heavy and ill-fitted to her body shape. Of course, there was no armor
made for a woman’s body. Because of her height, the only breastplate and pauldrons available
were broader and heavier than she would have preferred.

Beads of sweat dripped down the back of her neck, into the gap between her armor and back.
Brienne tried to remain focused, but the open field they walked through was making her situation
worse.

With Lady Catelyn traveling with them, Brienne felt it necessary to keep watch at night. She didn’t
trust the Kingslayer where it concerned protecting her lady, and as result, she got little sleep. Were
it just her and the Kingslayer as was originally planned, Brienne would gamble more by taking
longer rest at night. Brienne cared less for her own safety than that of her lady.

To make matters worse, Brienne’s moonblood had arrived two days prior. The cramping in her
pelvis was unbearable and the sun’s oppressive rays did little to dull the headache she often had
when she bled.

The Kingslayer’s comment about her useless moonblood rang true. Brienne had longed for love.
She longed for a husband and babes, but no one would have her. She recalled the harsh words of
her septa.

No man would lay with her save for fulfilling his duties and producing heirs. Now that her father
abandoned the effort to see Brienne wed, there was no duty to perform. No babes to hold even if
created in a loveless marriage.

The events of their journey felt little more than a harsh reminder that try as she might, Brienne
would never be accepted nor fit in. She was just an ugly woman stomping around in mail armor
with weapons at her hip. When Brienne realized at a young age that love would never find her, she
committed to making the most of a bad situation.

Her body was the Gods’ great jape. They gave her the Maiden’s heart in the Warrior’s body. They
gave her desires of the Mother in a world where others desired only for her to meet the Stranger.

As a girl, Brienne loved reading tales of knights rescuing fair maidens. She remembered running
through the fields of Tarth in her dresses and playing the part of the damsel in distress. The only
problem was that there was no one to play the part of the knight. No one desiring to play with her
at all.

Brienne remembered the first time she realized that she was ugly. She was five and her father
hosted another vassal at Evenfall. The couple had a young daughter who accompanied them; a
pretty girl named Calyssa. She was two years older than Brienne and cherished by her parents.

Always a shy and awkward girl, Brienne had approached Calyssa with one of her dolls. She asked
the young girl if she wished to play with her, but the girl clung to her mother. When the lord’s wife
asked what was wrong, Calyssa pointed at Brienne. “Why does she look like that?”

The mother’s eyes glanced at Brienne and back to her daughter. Speaking in hushed tones that just
reached Brienne’s ears, the mother spoke soothingly to Calyssa. “Not all girls are pretty, Calyssa.
Just play with her. I’m sure she is nice.”

Later that night, Brienne asked her Septa what ‘pretty’ meant. Everyone had always commented on
her unnatural height, but ‘pretty’ was not a word she had heard before. Septa Roelle snorted and
shook her head as she sat in the rocking chair while knitting.

“It’s another word for beautiful. You’ve not heard the word because you are not beautiful, child.”

Brienne considered the words; her brows knitted in consideration. Picking up her doll, Brienne
assessed it. The doll was beautiful.

Do I not look like the doll?

Brienne traced the doll’s face with her fingers before feeling her own face.

“What word would describe me?” Brienne inquired as she continued to appraise the doll. When her
septa did not give an immediate answer, Brienne glanced up at the woman. Septa Roelle stopped
knitting and looked out the window. With a heavy sigh, the woman met Brienne’s eyes.

“I won’t lie to you, child. You’re ugly.”

Ugly. Another word that Brienne had not heard before. She had heard others speak of her as
awkward and tall, but never ugly. “What does ugly mean?”

“Not beautiful. Not attractive. Not desirable. Men won’t fight for you. Your father will make you a
match and your lord husband will do his duty, but it will never be a love match like those books
you so enjoy.”

The conversation with Lady Catelyn a week ago weighed heavily on Brienne’s mind. No matter
what Brienne’s skill with a sword and her commitment to serve, Catelyn saw her as a father’s only
remaining heir. She worried that Lady Stark would send her away after this task was completed.

What am I, if I not a sword? I’m not fit for womanly duties regardless of my desire to be loved, to
have a husband, and to have a family. What becomes of me then? What purpose will I have? Would
another honorable lord or lady take me on as a sword?

Brienne’s thoughts were disrupted by the Kingslayer. His attention was back on her, likely on
account of Catelyn having told him off.

“You know wench, you’re incredibly dull. You contribute nothing to our fine conversations. Lady
Stark has no need for a giant, towheaded plank following her around mutely for the rest of her
days.”

Gods. Back at this again. I know that I can’t kill him, but if I could just remove his tongue…

“I’m surprised she hasn’t already given you the order to fall on your sword. A fortnight of this and
I’ve nearly lost my mind. No wonder she is in such a foul mood and immune to my charms.”

Brienne took a deep breath and reminded herself that pain of all variety is temporary. They would
see him exchanged at King’s Landing and hopefully, Brienne would be allowed to escort the Stark
girls and Lady Catelyn back north.

“If Lady Stark takes issue with my service, I’m certain she will inform me of it. Unlike you, she is
honest.”

Jaime snorted and raised an amused brow towards Catelyn who was busy muttering to herself just
ahead. “All the good it has done her. I imagine that if she keeps up that morality, she’ll be reunited
with her honest husband sooner than intended.”

Not as long as I’m alive to guard her.

“How did you come into her service anyway? It had to have been recently. You weren’t with her at
Winterfell. She said you won Renly’s silly, little tourney. Obviously, you’re from the Stormlands.
No other army would have accepted you.”

Brienne felt her jaw clench. She had little desire to give away anything that could serve as more
fodder for torment at the hands of the Kingslayer.

“It’s none of your concern. Keep moving.” Brienne shoved him harder and tried to keep up with
Lady Catelyn. While Brienne’s legs were more than long enough to keep pace, the Kingslayer
seemed content to dawdle.

“I’m surprised you would have served Renly. He wasn’t fit to rule over an army much less the
Seven Kingdoms.”

At the mention of Renly, Brienne’s blood began to boil. It was her greatest weakness. The only
person to show her kindness. An unrequited love for a man who could never love someone such as
her. Of course, Renly was not meant to love any woman; particularly an ugly woman such as she.

Brienne knew that Renly fancied men. She had suspected for some time that Loras and Renly were
in love with one another. Renly’s marriage to Margaery seemed a cunning way to keep Loras close.

“Shut your mouth.” Pushing Jaime hard again, she watched angrily as the Kingslayer’s shoulders
shook with mirth.

“I spent far too much time with him at court. I could hardly escape the little tulip. Skipping down
the corridors in his finery. I knew him far better than you.”

Brienne rolled her eyes and muttered more to herself than Jaime. “I knew him better than anyone. I
was a member of his Kingsguard and he trusted me with everything. He would have made a
wonderful king. Far better than your nephew.”

Brienne let the implication hang between them. The slight glance of vexation over his shoulder let
Brienne know that she hit her mark. Before she could savor the small victory, Jaime’s lips tugged
into a vicious smirk.

“Sounds like you fancied him.”

Seven hells. I will not let him have any of this knowledge.

“I did not fancy him.”

Jaime gasped in amusement. Looking back at her, he smiled widely. “Gods, you did. Such a shame,
wench. You weren’t Renly’s type I’m afraid. He preferred curly-haired little girls like Loras
Tyrell.”

Brienne spoke curtly, hoping to see the topic dropped. “I’m not interested in foul rumors.”

“Unless they’re about me. You’re quite eager to accept any mistruths on that account. Now on the
matter of Renly, they’re all true I’m afraid. It was the worst kept secret at court. It’s a shame the
throne isn’t made out of cocks. They’d have never gotten him off it.”

Unable to control her rage any longer, Brienne grabbed Jaime by the hair and tugged his head
backwards roughly. A storm settled over features as she held his eyes. “I said, shut your mouth.”

Up ahead, Catelyn stopped walking and turned to face them. “Brienne!”

Jaime replied in hushed tones as he held her eyes. “I don’t blame him as I don’t blame you. We
don’t get to choose who we love.”

Before Brienne could reply, Catelyn had rushed back towards them. “Brienne. Trust me, I wish as
much harm on him as you do. We need him alive.”

Realizing she had overstepped, Brienne released his head. Her eyes fell to the forest floor and she
nodded. “Apologies, my lady.”

The sound of a horse in the distance caught their attention. All three stood straight and searched the
path before them. An older man passed through and did not notice them. Brienne shoved Jaime
roughly behind a tree and stood before Lady Catelyn.

Catelyn whispered at Brienne’s side. “We need to be more careful near crossings such as this.
Many along these roads are farmers with no reason to cause trouble, but if they recognize us, they
are likely to alert soldiers nearby.”

Brienne nodded in understanding, but then she felt a hand at her hip. It was too late to react by the
time she heard the steel pulling from its sheath. Jaime spun around with the steel in hand and
slashed through the rope that had him tethered to Brienne.

Seven hells!

Brienne unsheathed her own sword and nudged Catelyn behind her. “My lady, stand back. I need
to subdue him.”

Jaime laughed loudly. “Subdue me? Will you rock me to sleep after a bedtime story? I’ll tell you
what, Lord Brian… I will see to it that sleep finds you. A rather permanent sleep.”

At his words, Jaime smiled and lunged forward. Brienne blocked the strike and moved around
him. With a slight tilt of his head, Jaime appraised her movements. He switched his grip and sword
angles several times, watching how she responded.

“You move well, wench… for a great beast of a woman.” Jaime struck out again. It was a fast
strike and counterstrike, giving Brienne little time to respond. His blade caught the inside of her
left thigh and Brienne felt blood line the inside of her breeches.

Seven hells! He is fast. He’ll kill me in no time if I can’t find his weakness.

Brienne circled around, her eyes darting to Catelyn. The Stark matriarch stood back; her eyes wide
in panic. The pain in Brienne’s thigh was radiating throughout her leg, but she had worse injuries
before.

I can’t kill the Kingslayer. I need to disarm him and keep him alive. Lady Stark needs him to get
her daughters back.

Before she could think on it further, the Kingslayer was swinging wildly at her. For a man who
spent a year chained to a post with little nutrition, he hardly lost a step. Brienne gathered he was an
incredible fighter at full strength. Near impossible to defeat.

Brienne deftly blocked the blows and batted his sword out of the way. The power of her block
seemed to catch Jaime by surprise. A small smile flickered across his face before he lunged again.
Brienne noticed it then.

His left side. His elbow angles like an arrogant man not used to being on the defensive.

Blocking his next three blows, Brienne began to counter and took aim for his side. Without slicing
into him, Brienne spun and hit his left side hard with the hilt of her sword. She sent a clear
message.

I could have killed you there.

A victorious smile flashed across her face at the realization that he could be defeated. It certainly
helped that he spent the last year chained and malnourished. It also helped that he underestimated
her. Underestimating an opponent makes for sloppy swordplay. Overconfidence is as much an
enemy as the opponent.

The Kingslayer’s brows furrowed. “Interesting. If you kill me, you fail Lady Stark. If I kill you,
you fail Lady Stark. Whatever will you do?”
Jaime lunged forward, but Brienne again countered confidently. She began to overpower him,
sending him backwards on his heels. The Kingslayer spun quickly to the side, but Brienne caught
him again with the hilt of her sword and kicked his front leg out from under him.

Sprawled on his back, Jaime looked up in anger. Before she could tell him to yield, the Kingslayer
rolled out of the way and hopped to his feet. Then Brienne realized her error.

The Kingslayer was closer to Catelyn than she was, and Brienne watched in horror as he moved
quickly to the older woman. He pushed the tip of the sword against Catelyn’s neck. Jaime smiled
viciously as a small droplet of blood dripped down Catelyn’s neck.

“Put the sword down, wench… or I will kill Lady Stark.”

Brienne chastised herself for the oversight. With a huff of irritation, she dropped her sword to the
ground. The Kingslayer smiled as he looked to Catelyn while continuing to speak to Brienne.

“And that dagger at your hip. Toss it away.” Jaime waited as Brienne took the dagger and threw it
aside.

Feigning sympathy, Jaime looked to Catelyn. “I think it’s time we say goodbye to Lord Brian.”
Glancing at Brienne, Jaime commanded her. “On your knees, wench.” Brienne moved to her knees
and awaited the command to bow her neck for beheading.

He’ll need to kill me before Lady Catelyn. If he kills her first, I will kill him. So long as she lives, he
knows that I will do as he says.

Brienne appraised Jaime. With his hands chained and sword drawn to Catelyn’s neck, his body was
entirely exposed to attack. Her eyes flickered to Catelyn and she prayed that the woman would
understand what was to come. A near imperceptible nod from Brienne was the only signal to
Catelyn that she was not yet accepting defeat.

Always keep a concealed weapon. Let the enemy think you’ve been disarmed.

“Bow your head, wench. Time to meet the Stranger.”

Brienne lowered her head and heard the crunch of leaves under the Kingslayer’s feet. A small
smile flickered across her face. Taking a deep breath, she moved as quickly as she did with the
Stark men.

Reaching back to her boot, Brienne grabbed the hilt of her concealed dagger. When she was trained
by the master-at-arms of Evenfall, he had recommended that as a woman in an army encampment,
Brienne keep a dagger hidden at her boot. Men would try to force themselves on her from behind
as a cruel jape, and it would be easy to grab a weapon at that location.

Brienne practiced with daggers at Evenfall in addition to the sword, morningstar, and bow. She had
to practice twice as hard as the men to perfect her craft. Ser Goodwin taught her to ensure both
physical conditioning in addition to competency with all manner of weapons.

In a heartbeat, the dagger flew from her hand to her target. She could not kill the Kingslayer, but
she would render him incapable of killing her or Lady Catelyn. The dagger hit its target. Wedged
deep in the Kingslayer’s thigh, the hilt stuck out as blood began to drip down his leg.

Lunging for her sword, Brienne grabbed the hilt and struck hard against the Kingslayer’s weapon,
disarming him quickly.
Catelyn grabbed the discarded sword before moving backwards to the tree. The small blade was
wedged deep into the Kingslayer’s thigh. He fell backwards to the ground in pain, cussing and
clutching at his leg.

“Seven hells!”

Brienne sheathed her sword and put her dagger away. Tearing off a piece of the Kingslayer’s
ragged cloak, she looked to him and shoved a stick into his mouth. She grabbed the hilt of the
dagger and met his green eyes.

“Bite down. This won’t feel pleasant.”

 "I would just as soon lose my cock"
Chapter Summary

Jaime has his wound treated and learns more about the wench.

Jaime groaned in pain as Brienne reached for the cloth to tie a makeshift tourniquet around his
thigh. He spit the twig out of mouth and clenched his jaw. The world came in flashes of white
when Brienne pulled the dagger out. Only her blue eyes shone through the searing pain.

Gods damnit wench! Your stupid face. Your stupid eyes. I hate you!

When Jaime had told Brienne to bow her head, he knew that he should kill her, but he couldn’t.
Something about the wench made it impossible. Instead, he planned to knock her unconscious with
the hilt of the sword, just as she had done to him at Robb’s camp.

Catelyn would never be able to stop him from fleeing. He would take Brienne’s weapons and leave
them to fend for themselves. Now everything hurt. He looked to Brienne with hate in his eyes.

“What the fuck did you do that for!?”

Brienne scoffed and sat back on her heels. “You can’t be serious! You steal my sword. You slice
my leg. You threaten Lady Catelyn. You try to behead me. Yet here you sit, asking what I did that
for!”

“I wasn’t going to behead you! I was going to knock you upside that stupid, dour head of yours!”

Catelyn huffed in annoyance over Brienne’s shoulder. “Brienne, are you alright? Your thigh is
bleeding a lot.”

Jaime’s eyes flashed to the wench’s thigh. Sure enough, he had sliced through the fabric and left a
gash on the inside of her left leg.

Good! Serves her right. I left my mark between her legs. No, wait. I don’t want anything of mine
between her legs. Where is Cersei, damnit!? Why am I stuck with these miserable women!?

“I’ll be fine, my lady. Not all of us are so pathetic about a scratch.” Brienne glared at Jaime as she
spoke.

“A fucking scratch, wench!? You threw a dagger into my thigh! Who fights like that!?”

“Her name is Lady Brienne! Not wench!” Catelyn’s eyes flashed with fury as she looked to Jaime.
The pair glared at one another while Brienne sat back on her heels, appraising her work.

Ignoring Catelyn’s reprimand, Jaime looked to his thigh. Blood was already gushing through the
fabric and he cursed under his breath. He knew it would need stitches and the wench seemed to
have the same thought.

With a heavy sigh, she looked to Catelyn. “It needs stitching, my lady. As lovely as it would be to
let him bleed out, we need him alive enough to make the exchange.”
“Alive enough!? Yes, that will go over quite well with my father. I’m certain he’ll be glad to
provide the Stark girls alive enough in return.” Jaime looked away in anger, folding his arms like a
cross septa.

Brienne’s eyes snapped back to him. “Do shut up! Woman on birthing beds complain less than
you.”

“And what would an ugly wench like you know about pain on the birthing bed!? You’ll never
have to endure it.”

The moment the words left Jaime’s mouth, he wished he could take it back. Brienne’s confession
in the night to Catelyn about how her mother died rushed to the forefront of his mind. The promise
Jaime made to himself not to target her the wench’s looks left him guilt-ridden.

It was Jaime’s way. Lashing out with cruel words and actions when he was defenseless and angry.
Jaime’s eyes flicked away, unable to tolerate the wench’s emotive eyes.

Brienne stood abruptly and spoke to Catelyn. “I won’t be recognized. I can try to procure materials
to stitch his leg at the next village we come to. Apologies, my lady. I did not intend to wound the
prisoner to such an extent.”

Jaime snorted and shook his head.

Only the wench would apologize for injuring me when I tried to kill her. So Gods damned
honorable.

With a heavy sigh, Catelyn consented, and they spoke of the best direction to head in. Risking a
glance at the women, Jaime could see the withdrawn expression on Brienne’s face as Catelyn
contemplated their direction. She seemed lost in an unpleasant memory and Jaime knew it was his
fault.

His eyes trailed down to her leg. A sliver of skin could be seen where the breeches were cut
through.

She’ll need to clean that wound too. Mayhap if her legs weren’t so damn long, they wouldn’t have
been in the way. Stupid legs. Far too long… and lean… and…

Jaime shook his head and tried to conjure the image of Cersei’s legs. He always enjoyed lifting her
skirts and grabbing at her hips and thighs during their quick fucks at the Keep. That was the way
of it. They needed to be fast and secretive. There was no time for Jaime to truly enjoy Cersei’s
statuesque body.

Jaime tried to picture what it would be like to take his time with Cersei. To lay between her legs
and have them wrap around his hips. Unbidden, the thought of the wench’s long legs came to the
forefront of his mind. Jaime grimaced and shook his head.

Gods! Disgusting. I would rather bleed to death here on the forest floor.

With a heavy sigh, Jaime looked to the sky. He was starting to feel a bit lightheaded and hoped the
women would hurry up with their decision. As if summoned by thought alone, the wench stomped
back to him. Her face was rife with indignation as she leaned down to yank him up by the arm.

“On your feet Kingslayer.”

Jaime bit his lip and grunted as he put weight on his leg. He didn’t want to appear weak and
pathetic in front of the two women.

They began walking southeast and in the direction of a village that Catelyn knew to be nearby.
Jaime glanced at Brienne who was trailing just behind at his left side. He could tell that her leg
ailed her despite her face being set like stone. Only her eyes gave away the discomfort.

Catelyn muttered ahead of them. “I hope you’re happy with yourself. Now we have to waste travel
time and risk Brienne being questioned to get you medical supplies.”

Before Jaime could reply, Catelyn glanced back at him with a mocking smile. “I told you she was
better than you. Knocked you on your ass. She would have landed some killing blows too if she
was a dishonorable knight as you are.”

“My hands are chained, and your son hadn’t seen fit to feed me more than scraps of stale bread for
an entire year! The wench could never beat me in a fair fight.”

Brienne snorted at his side. Her voice was monotone as she spoke. “Spoken like someone on the
losing end of a fight.” After a slight pause, Brienne’s voice raised an octave and a hint of
amusement touched her words.

“All my life I’ve heard, ‘Jaime Lannister, what a brilliant swordsman’. You were sloppier than I
expected. And more predictable.”

Jaime ground his teeth before turning to reply. “I’ve been sitting in a bloody pen and chained to a
post for the past year.”

“And I’m a woman. I was still beating you.” Brienne’s reply was immediate and confident. It
grated on Jaime.

“You were not beating me.”

Brienne feigned contemplation as she looked to the sky. “Maybe you were as good as people said.
Once. Or maybe people just love to overpraise a famous name.”

Catelyn chuckled in front of them and shook her head. “I think you have the right of it, Brienne.
For a man who only knows of ‘three men who can best him’, I begin to wonder if he only fought
three men before you. And before Loras. And before Robb.”

“Your son did not beat me in single-combat. He ambushed me in the woods and I still slew several
of his men before my capture.”

With a sarcastic smile, Catelyn raised a challenging brow. “I suppose we simple women must have
a very different concept of winning and losing than you. Truly, how would you describe what just
happened back there?”

Jaime scoffed and glanced between the women as they continued walking. “The leaves were wet. I
slipped.”

Brienne laughed at his side. The laugh was genuine and filled with mirth, lacking any undertone of
mockery or sarcasm. Her thick lips stretched back in unbridled joy, which she quickly moved to
cover with her hand. The wench’s cheeks pinked with amusement and her eyes shone brightly. Her
entire face seemed to light up and reflect her youth. The sight and sound caught Jaime by surprise.
It was an emotion he thought the wench incapable of.

Something about her reaction sent a strange jolt through his body. An unexpected smile tugged at
his lips and he quickly bit his lip to keep it at bay.

Soon they came to the outskirts of the village. A small section of woods lined the area which they
stood in. It served as sufficient coverage from wandering eyes. Brienne tied Jaime to a tree as he sat
on the forest floor. His thigh was throbbing, and he was desperate for relief. He felt faint again as
he rested his head back against the tree.

Catelyn instructed Brienne to remove her armor so as not to rouse suspicions. The thought was
absurd to Jaime.

As if she doesn’t stand out regardless of the armor.

Glancing up at the women, Jaime saw Brienne hesitate at the command before slowly removing
her armor. With the bulky, golden armor removed, the wench seemed smaller to Jaime. Her
shoulders rolled in on herself and Catelyn tried to fix her hair in the most motherly fashion Jaime
ever gave witness to.

“Gods. If you’re trying to make her look halfway decent, I’ll bleed out and turn to naught but bones
before she sets foot in the bloody village.”

Catelyn gave a warning glare to Jaime that did little more than encourage his harassment of the
wench.

“Oh, right. Apologies. Lets make Lord Brian look feminine. I’m certain the bloody breeches and
mannish haircut will go unnoticed when she walks in there and smacks her head on the shop’s
doorframe.”

“Ignore him, Brienne. You look… fine.” Catelyn forced a smile to her face and patted Brienne’s
shoulders, but the gesture was easy to see through. “Mayhap… would you be more comfortable if
you pretended at being a soldier in need of some medicinal supplies for your wound?”

Something about the question irritated Jaime, though he could not say why. “Is that literally not
what this is or is that your polite way of asking her to pretend at being a man?”

Catelyn grunted in exasperation and glared at Jaime. “For someone so convinced he is about to die
of blood loss, you certainly talk a lot.”

“I will be quick about it, my lady.” Without another word, Brienne moved hastily towards the
small village. Her posture was different with the armor off. Any confidence she previously exuded
was gone, and Brienne hung her head as she went.

Looking to Catelyn, Jaime smirked. “Alone at last Lady Stark. I know you’re tempted to take
advantage of me, but please try to remain honorable. All my blood is rushing south, but I fear it is
escaping my thigh.”

Ignoring him, Catelyn sat down on a small boulder jutting out from the forest floor. She sighed
heavily and rubbed at her forehead. Without looking up, Catelyn spoke to Jaime. “Truly, do you
never shut up?”

Jaime grinned. He took pride in irritating the woman. The wife of his nemesis. The man who
deemed Jaime guilty before knowing what happened. In the eyes of the Starks, he would always be
a dishonorable, oathbreaker.

Why not add ‘annoying shit’ to the list?

Before Jaime could reply, Catelyn looked to him. “You want to test my sanity? You wish to drive
me to the brink of madness like the spoiled child you are, all because you aren’t getting your way?
Go on then. Just leave Brienne out of it. The girl is merely following my orders. She is an
honorable woman and she doesn’t deserve your nastiness.”

“Well because you asked so nicely…” Jaime pretended at considering Catelyn’s words. He
scratched his chin and tilted his head up slight before meeting her eyes. “No. I’m having too much
fun.”

He would not give Catelyn the satisfaction of what she wanted. He would make the trip to King’s
Landing as miserable as possible.

The sun began to fade and Jaime soon spotted Brienne walking back from the village.

Thank the Gods. Took long enough. I am practically half dead now.

Brienne handed Catelyn some bread in a cloth before turning to Jaime and throwing some medical
supplies at him. Rolled in a cloth was a needle, medical thread, cleansing solution, and a small jar
of salve. The cloth that the items were wrapped in appeared to be dressing for the wound.

Jaime snorted and raised his hands to shake his chained wrists. “Lovely. I doubt you’re willing to
unchain me, so who is going to stitch this?”

“Do it yourself and stop complaining.” Catelyn tore into the bread and offered Brienne a small
piece.

“My lady, we should find a place to camp further from the village. If anyone sees the fire, they
might send soldiers over to investigate.”

Jaime scoffed and bundled up his items as Brienne untied him from the tree. “Gods. I have to
fucking stand up again!? Do neither of you realize that I had a dagger sticking out of my leg not
long ago?”

“Yes, well I had a sword cut through mine, yet you don’t see me going on about it.” Brienne’s tone
was clipped as she hauled him to a standing position.

They moved away from the village to a more concealed area in the woods. Brienne gathered
kindling and started a fire before setting off to find food. Before leaving, she checked that Jaime
was tied securely to the tree.

Great. More quality time with Lady Stark.

“I at least know that you’re a woman. Can’t you stitch this? Isn’t needle work a prerequisite for
being a lady?” Jaime shrugged at Catelyn in exasperation while she sat on a rock. The night was
cooler than most and Jaime wished for nothing more than to be back in King’s Landing with Cersei
to warm him.

Catelyn rolled her eyes and stretched her hands over the fire for warmth. “My fingers are too numb.
Do it yourself. Aren’t you supposed to be great with a sword? Think of the needle as a smaller
version and pray to the Seven you put on a better showing than you did against Lady Brienne.”

“Come help me with my breeches. You can warm up your hands while you’re down there.”

Catelyn groaned in distaste. It was the exact reaction he had aimed for, and it pleased Jaime
immensely to see his mark hit. Jaime untied his laces but struggled to slide down his breeches to
get to the wound. After the incident hours earlier, the chains were wrapped tighter around his waist
and wrists to keep his movements restricted.

Fucking hells! This is futile. Where is the wench!?

“Come on Catelyn, seriously. Would you stitch this damn wound? I can’t get to it?”

“No.” Catelyn shifted to get comfortable on the ground. She turned her back to him and pulled her
cloak tight to her body.

Brienne soon returned to the campsite. Given the need to setup camp quickly, she had not yet had
time to put her armor back on.

“That is not very honorable of you Lady Stark! When the Stranger comes for me tonight after I
bleed out, I’m telling Ned what you’ve done.”

At Jaime’s words, Brienne looked in confusion between Jaime and Catelyn. “What’s gone wrong,
my lady?”

Catelyn cast an accusing finger over her shoulder at Jaime. “Him. He has gone wrong. The dolt
can’t figure out how to remove his breeches and stitch himself up. How ironic considering his
inability to keep his breeches on is what started this war.”

Brienne sighed and shook her head. She sat down before the fire and reached for her things. The
wince on her face as she sat did not go unnoticed to Jaime.

“I’ll help you if you help me.” Jaime played at compromise, but he knew that he would be useless
to aiding Brienne in dressing her wound.

“The day I need your help, is the day I cease to draw breath.” Brienne skinned a rabbit she had
caught. A slight sorrow touched her eyes and she grimaced at the effort. Jaime couldn’t help but
chuckle at her girliness.

For someone who kills so effectively, she does not seem to enjoy it.

When Brienne placed the rabbit over the fire to roast, Jaime tried again. “I can’t stitch my leg in
these shackles. Please, would you just loosen the damn restraints or stitch the bloody thing? I’m
bleeding all over!”

Brienne met his eyes and sighed. Moving from her position near the fire, Brienne spilled water
over her hands to clean them before drying them over the fire. Once her hands were sufficiently
dry, Brienne walked towards Jaime, outstretching her hand while nodding at the supplies.

Handing her the balled-up supplies, Jaime raised a brow. “And here you thought to never have the
chance to pull down a man’s breeches… other than your own. It’s your lucky day.”

With an unamused look, Brienne turned to walk away. “No! Wait! I’m sorry, just… help. Please.
I’ll be quiet.”

Glancing back at him, Brienne glared. “If you open your mouth once more, I will stab you in the
neck with the needle.”

Jaime raised his hands in mock defense and shook his head. “I’ll behave.”

Brienne kneeled next to him and a flicker of pain danced in her eyes. She untied the tourniquet set
earlier around his thigh and yanked it off. The blood had dried to both his skin and the garment. It
felt like tearing off a freshly forming scab and Jaime cried out.

“Gods! What did you do that for!?” Jaime grabbed at his thigh and appraised the wound. Fresh
blood began to spill out, dripping onto his hand and the forest floor.

“How do you expect me to stitch it with a tourniquet wrapped around your thigh?”

Jaime scoffed and opened his eyes wide in protest. “Well do you have to rip it off so aggressively?”

Brienne reached back for her water pouch. She looked to him expectantly and nodded. “You can
tend to your own breeches. I’m not removing them.”

Jaime tried again to tug down the garments, but it was near impossible without pulling down his
smallclothes in the process. “The chains are too tight. I can’t without pulling everything off. Are
you hoping for a show?”

From Brienne’s back, Catelyn mumbled. “Gods. Mayhap we should just let him bleed out.”

With a sigh, Brienne helped Jaime and kept her eyes averted as he held his smallclothes in place,
and she worked down his breeches to get to the wound. With the wound accessible, Brienne
poured water onto the area before dabbing it with a cloth.

She took the cleansing solution and poured it onto the wound. Pain radiated through Jaime’s leg
and he flinched at the contact. Brienne scoffed as she prepared the needle and stitching. Before
Brienne set to the task of stitching the wound, she met Jaime’s eyes. “Do you need something to
bite down on?”

“A sword? Can I have one of those?” Jaime’s voice dripped with sarcasm which earned him
another glare.

“I’ve removed my weapons before coming to aid you. Do not try to reach for my hip or I will break
your arm.”

Jaime snorted and held her eyes. “Have no worries, wench. Your earlier declaration is more than
returned. Not interested.”

Brienne pinched together the wound and made the first stitch. Grimacing at the pain, Jaime looked
to the fire and took a deep breath. He had endured stitches before, and always refused wine or
poppy to aid the process. He didn’t like anything that dulled his sense.

How Tyrion and Cersei can drink as they do is beyond me.

Looking at his leg, Jaime was surprised at how gentle Brienne was. He studied her hands as she
worked. Brienne's fingers were long and thin. They kept the skin pinched together gently while the
other hand looped the stitching through Jaime’s skin.

He watched as Brienne’s brows knitted in concentration; a similar image to the day by the river
when she cleaned her sword as the sun’s rays stretched across the land. Jaime had expected
Brienne’s hands to be rough, awkward, and mannish. They were warm, gentle, and soft.

Gentler than Cersei.

With the sun fading, the firelight reached the wench’s face. The shadows of the campfire danced
on her pale skin. With her face so close, Jaime could see the smattering of freckles on her cheeks
and nose. They reminded him of the night sky.

His eyes drifted down her long neck. As Brienne leaned over his leg, her tunic hung down loosely.
Like her armor, it appeared too large for her and something bought at a shop rather than custom
made. The faintest outline of her meager breasts came into view. Jaime observed a trail of freckles
continuing down her chest and he had the strange desire to learn how far they reached. A slight
stirring in his smallclothes sent Jaime into a mild panic.

Gods. What is wrong with me? My cock is broken. This ugly, breast broke it. It’s gone dumb and
blind.

Jaime swallowed thickly and tried to covertly move his hands over his cock. Closing his eyes and
leaning his head back against the tree trunk, Jaime reminded himself of how absurd the wench was.

Her lips are too thick. Her build too mannish. Her skin too pale and freckled. Not Cersei.

Brienne’s hands left his thigh and a feeling of loss spread through Jaime’s body at the break in
contact. Looking to his leg, he could see that the stitches were surprisingly well done. The wench
spread some of the salve on his wound and wrapped the cloth around his leg.

The sensation of Brienne’s fingers brushing against his skin as she wrapped the would sent a
tingling sensation through his body. His cock was screaming for attention and Jaime swallowed a
whimper. Moving her hands to his breeches to pull them up, Jaime bolted quickly. “No! I can do
it.”

At his sudden outburst, Brienne quickly removed her hands. “Sorry. I just thought…”

“Gods, desperate to get your hands on me again. I can pull them up, wench! I just couldn’t pull
them down without putting my cock on full display. Gods know your eyes were never meant to see
such things.”

Sitting back on her heels, Brienne closed up the small jar of ointment and set it down by his side.
Jaime wanted to pull up his breeches immediately, but he needed her to leave first. His cock was
still very confused.

Ridiculous. Such an ugly beast. My cock must be delirious after being deprived of Cersei’s bed for
so many moons. I would never sully myself with such a creature nor would I be disloyal to my true
love.

The reaction from his body frightened Jaime. He had never wanted for a whore or a woman who
wasn’t Cersei. There was no reason that a year apart from his love should cause such a reaction.

Pulling his knees up and pretending at studying her work, Jaime watched as the wench moved
away. He quickly pulled up his breeches and called out to her, holding up the jar of salve. “Wench!
You should use this to clean your wound.”

With the shake of her head, Brienne sat back down and rotated the rabbit. “It’s all I could afford in
the village. Only enough for one. I’ll wash out my wound later with water.”

How the hells does one not have enough coin for something? How absurd.

Catelyn sat upright at Brienne’s words. “Brienne, let me see that.” She inched closer to Brienne
and leaned in slightly to inspect the wound. “This needs cleaning. I don’t think it needs stitches, but
I could if you worry it might.”
Jaime squawked in offense. “Oh, of course. Help the wench, but not me! I’m the important one.”

Catelyn shook her head and waved at him dismissively. Before she could speak again, Brienne cut
her off. “It’s fine, my lady. I’ve had worse.”

When the rabbit was done, Brienne offered it to Catelyn. After taking her fill, Catelyn handed it
back to Brienne and gave her thanks. Brienne walked the rabbit over to Jaime and he took some as
well, careful to leave her enough.

I suppose she’s at least useful for killing food.

The women spoke idly for some time before Catelyn went back to sleep. Brienne sat at the fire and
stared into the flames. She began to put her armor back on, but Jaime could see that she was in
pain.

"So you're a noblewoman from the Stormlands, yet you can't afford a proper amount of supplies.
You must be from a poor House or one that knows better than to waste resources on an annoying
wench."

Brienne's eyes snapped to Jaime. "Do not speak of my House. You know nothing of it."

I struck a nerve there. Tarth and Renly. This will be fun.

"I know of many Houses. Tell me yours and I'll prove my point." Jaime raised a challenging brow
at the wench. He already figured out her House from the conversation he overheard, but he wanted
to hear her confirm it.

With a hesitant look, Brienne's eyes darted away before she answered. "Tarth."

"Tarth. Lord Selwyn Tarth. The Evenstar. Quartered sigil with crescent moons and suns."

A victorious smile spread across Jaime's face as Brienne blinked dumbly. He had been well
schooled as a boy on the Great Houses and Houses of Westeros. Loathe as he was to admit it, Tarth
was a well-known vassal in the Stormlands. The wench was hardly insignificant and her House
should have ample coin.

Lord Selwyn should have equipped his only living child better.

“You should clean your wound. You’ll get an infection.” Jaime’s words seemed to break Brienne
from a trance. She nodded and cleaned the wound as best she could with water. Throwing the jar of
salve at her, Jaime feigned at indifference. “Go on and use it. I won’t be reapplying that shit. I have
no desire to have you touching me again. I would just as soon lose my cock.”
 “I hope she was worth it”
Chapter Summary

Robb's army comes looking for Catelyn, Jaime, and Brienne. Catelyn learns some hard
truths about the men serving her son.

Chapter Notes

Warning: This chapter contains attempted rape and threat of rape. Please skip to end
notes if you don't feel comfortable reading it.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

The sound of approaching horses grew closer and echoed throughout the woods. A slight frost
kissed the morning dew, as Catelyn again kicked Jaime in the back. It was her second attempt to
jostle him from sleep.

Without turning around, Jaime swatted at her blindly and grumbled under his breath. Catelyn spoke
in an urgent whisper as Brienne gathered what meager belongings they had. “Get up!”

The Kingslayer glanced at her and narrowed his eyes. “Fuck off.”

“Get up, now! Soldiers are coming.”

At her words, the Kingslayer bolted upright. Brienne grabbed the rope which had already been
untied from the tree just moments earlier while he slept. They needed to find cover quickly before
they were spotted.

Catelyn had been roused by Brienne moments earlier when the young woman claimed to have
heard soldiers in the distance. They crept through the thickets and spotted Northern men
canvassing the woods.

After they returned to the campsite, Brienne had untied Jaime as he slept and gathered their things.
The banners in the distance where recognizable to Catelyn and she drew in a sharp breath. House
Bolton.

Lord Bolton and Catelyn had known one another for quite some time. His House was vicious
where it concerned matters of war, but he always treated her honorably and he was a strong vassal
to Ned. During Robb’s war councils, Roose offered practical advice even if a bit ruthless. A
cunning man, in some ways, Roose reminded Catelyn of Petyr Baelish.

Looking back to Brienne, Catelyn watched her stomp out the flickering flames and kick dirt over
the embers. Moving quickly, they ducked low and tried to move in the opposite direction of the
contingent of Northmen.

Jaime hobbled along between them, grunting the entire way. With a warning glare from Catelyn,
he bit his tongue and narrowed his eyes. Speaking in hushed tones, the Kingslayer spat at her. “I’d
like to see you do this after taking a dagger to the thigh.”

“Shut up. Stop acting like a babe.” Catelyn muttered under her breath; just loud enough to reach
Jaime’s ears.

In the distance, Catelyn saw large boulders jutting out from the ground at the bottom of a small
hill. The boulders were surrounded by a dense thicket and a massive tree at one end. There
appeared to be enough space between the boulders for them to hide well enough.

Inclining her head towards the area, Catelyn saw understanding flash through Brienne’s eyes. They
made their way towards the boulders and squeezed inside. Brienne was on the outermost edge, and
she kept lookout for the men.

Horses and the shouts of men grew closer, making Catelyn’s heart race. She glanced to her left and
noted the unease on the faces of the Kingslayer and Brienne. Brienne met Catelyn’s eyes and
whispered.

“I should go out there. They’re looking for someone and I’ll say that I was alone. It’s likely the
villagers who alerted them, but they only saw me.”

Catelyn shook her head in refute. “If they take you, I’ll have no one to help me take this dolt to
King’s Landing.”

A false smile tugged at Jaime’s lips when his eyes met Catelyn’s. “Apologize or I’ll scream.”

“Go ahead and scream. They’re likely to take your head this time. Your sister will be kissing a
corpse.”

A man’s voice called out. “This way! There’s a fire stomped out.”

Seven hells! Mayhap I should let Brienne go out there. Roose’s men weren’t at Robb’s camp when
Brienne was there. They might not think anything of her presence.

“Brienne. Go on then. They likely won’t recognize you.”

Brienne nodded and ran across the wooded area to another set of thickets roughly thirty feet away.
It was clear to Catelyn that she was attempting to deceive the men as to the direction she had been
hiding. Brienne took pause and waited to ensure the soldiers were indeed closing in on them before
stepping out from the brush.

“Why are you following me? I’m just traveling through. I want no trouble.” Her voice filled the
space around them. Brienne’s eyes seemed to be locked on someone, but Catelyn couldn’t see who.
She did however hear horses stomping and snorting on the near frozen forest floor. The sound
mixed with men’s voices drawing nearer.

A man with oily black hair and a nasty scar on his face came into view. Catelyn peered around
Jaime and could scarcely make out six men with the apparent leader. They had seen a dozen earlier
and Catelyn imagined the rest were just out of view; still on horseback.

“What’s a woman like ya doin’ out here all alone in the woods?”

“Seemed safer to travel alone through the woods than on the Kingsroad.”

“The villagers gave us a report of a tall, ugly, blonde bitch enterin’ these woods after visitin’ their
shops. You quite look like ‘er to me.”

“Yes, I was in the village. Is entering shops and lawfully procuring supplies a crime?” Brienne
stood tall in her armor. She spoke confidently despite being well outnumbered. Catelyn felt a swell
of pride in her chest for the young woman.

The men’s leader sneered at her and tilted his head in consideration. “We was told to be on the
lookout for a great, ugly bitch fittin’ your description. The King in the North wants ‘er. Says she
and his mother stole off with the Kingslayer.”

Catelyn’s eyes went wide. Gods. They know its her.

Jaime turned to Catelyn and whispered beseechingly. “Unchain me. I’ll help her. We can take
them.”

Meeting his eyes, Catelyn glared and shook her head. “No.”

The men began to slowly surround Brienne. Dread settled in Catelyn’s core and she watched as
Brienne’s hand moved instinctively to the hilt of her sword.

“Take off ya armor.” The man with the vicious scar on his face barked at Brienne. In the cool
morning air, Catelyn could see his breath extend just before his face in a puff of condensation.

“Why? I’ve done no wrong.”

Seven keep her safe. Do not start a fight unless necessary, Brienne.

“Take off ya armor or we’ll cut it off. Do as I say, and then me and me men will be on our way.”

Catelyn felt her breathing return. A relief washed over her at the knowledge that the men would
move out after taking her things.

They likely mean to disarm her. Ensure she won’t be trouble. Thank the Gods. Please Brienne, just
do as they say.

Appraising Brienne’s face, Catelyn saw terror in the young woman’s eyes. It was an emotion that
Catelyn didn’t think the woman capable of. The observation struck Catelyn as strange. She
wondered if Brienne’s reaction had more to do with an emotional attachment to the armor than fear
that the men meant her harm.

Perhaps the armor serves as last vestiges of Renly’s acquaintance.

Catelyn knew that Brienne loved the young Baratheon. It was evident in her loyalty to him and her
grief at his death.

Jaime’s eyes went wide and he turned to Catelyn. His tone was pleading as he whispered to her.
“Please. Unchain me. They mean to rape her.”

What!? Has he gone mad!?

Catelyn spoke for his ears only. “They would not. They just mean to disarm her.”

I know House Bolton. They are brutes and have a penchant for torture, but they are not rapists.
They just announced that they march on my son’s orders. Robb would never allow this, and they
know it. Roose would never allow this.
Jaime’s jaw clenched and he looked at Catelyn with barely concealed rage. His head snapped back
in the direction of the men.

Brienne slowly removed her armor. Her hands trembled slightly, and her breathing came in shallow
bursts. When the armor was pooled at her feet, Brienne’s hand moved back to the hilt of her sword.

“You said you would be on your way now. Have the armor. Just leave me be.”

The man with black hair took a menacing step forward. “Do ya think me an idiot? Take off ya
swords too.”

Just do it Brienne. They only mean to see you disarmed. There are enough of them that they would
have captured you if they meant to take you prisoner.

As Brienne slowly removed her sword belt, she looked uneasily at the man. The swords were
added to the pile of armor at her feet before the man spoke again.

“I know ya mean to distract us so the Kingslayer and Lady Stark stay hidden or try to sneak away.
We’ll just have some fun and wait for ya friends to come back.”

The man turned to the soldiers at his back. “Six of ya go search the woods. They can’t have gotten
far. The rest of us will keep this one company.”

A sadistic smile spread across the man’s face as he finished giving his commands. “I’ll take the
bitch last. Have ya fun, boys. Careful, she might have a cock under there.”

As six of the men moved in opposite directions to continue searching, the other six moved slowly
towards Brienne. Dropping to a knee, Brienne quickly grabbed her concealed dagger as two of the
men lunged for her. She sliced through one man’s throat while stabbing the other twice in the gut.

The four remaining men yelled at the sight and lunged forward quickly. “Get the bitch! Hold ‘er
down!” Brienne kicked and fought with everything that she had, but she was outnumbered. They
tackled her to the forest floor and began to tear at her clothing while punching. Their intent was
clear.

Gods! They truly mean to rape her!

As three men held Brienne down, the fourth circled to her back. The men laughed loudly as
Brienne struggled and screamed under them. Catelyn felt bile rise in her throat and she knew that
she must act.

The man now at Brienne’s back began to tear at her breeches as he kneeled behind her. With a
sickening laugh, the man untied his breeches. “A fighter! I like a tough bitch!”

Before Catelyn could scream, Jaime rushed out from their hiding spot. He slammed into one of the
men holding Brienne down, sending them both to the forest floor. Jaime grabbed the soldier’s own
dagger and stabbed him repeatedly in the gut and chest.

What happened next was a blur. It seemed to Catelyn that everything was happening in slow
motion as she stood from her hiding spot. The leader screamed for the other six men to return and
give aid. From all directions, the men came running.

At the shock of Jaime’s arrival, the two men holding Brienne down lunged for him. Brienne took
the opportunity to elbow her intended rapist’s face, breaking his nose on contact.
A sickening crunch bounced off the boulder walls behind Catelyn as blood poured from the man’s
face. Grabbing her previously dropped dagger, Brienne slit the man’s throat before rushing to
Jaime’s aid.

Brienne quickly killed the two men who had grabbed hold of Jaime. She slit one’s throat and
stabbed the other in the back repeatedly as Jaime pounded the man’s head with his iron chains.

The returning men tackled Brienne and disarmed her. They began kicking her in the ribs and face.
Jaime swung his iron chains into another soldier’s face before protectively falling over Brienne’s
body.

Seven hells. I should have unchained the Kingslayer! They could have stood a chance.

The man with oily, black hair called for a cease to the bloodshed. A ruthless smile stretched across
his face. “Ah, ‘ere he is! The Kingslayer. What’s the matter? Didn’t want to share ya whore?” In
total, they had managed to kill five men. Another man lay groaning on the forest floor with severe
stab wounds to his gut.

The Bolton soldiers hauled Jaime to his feet so that they could access Brienne. Their leader strode
forward and Catelyn’s eyes darted to Brienne. Her wrists were being bound by rope as three men
held her to the forest floor, kneeling on her face and back.

“Tell ya what, Kingslayer. We’ll take our turns with ‘er and ya can watch. Give us pointers on how
she likes it.”

“No!” Catelyn screamed from where she stood. It seemed to be the first time the men had
registered her standing there. “You will not dishonor her! She is a noblewoman, and my son will
have your heads if you lay hands on her.”

The man sneered at Catelyn and turned towards her. “Ah, Lady Stark. Ya see, the problem is… I
don’t serve ya. I serve King Robb. Ya son wants the pair of ya returned to camp at once. You and
the Kingslayer. Alive. Didn’t say nuthin’ bout the ugly bitch.”

Panic coursed through Catelyn’s body as her eyes darted to Brienne. “She is my sworn sword. Any
violence committed against her will be punished accordingly.”

“She ain’t King Robb’s sworn sword. They killed five of me men! We deal with the bitch here and
now.” The man turned to walk towards Brienne as he unsheathed his dagger.

“Gold! My father will pay her weight in it if you leave her unharmed and unbesmirched.” Jaime
spoke urgently as the men held him back. He began desperately trying to break free and get to
Brienne.

Catelyn’s eyes darted to Jaime in shock. She had not expected him to come to Brienne’s aid, but he
had done so twice. First to save her from rape. Now to save her from death.

The man with oily, black hair tilted his head and looked at Jaime curiously. “Ya willin’ to pay for
ya whore’s crimes, Kingslayer?”

Jaime nodded his head in response. “Yes. Just leave her be.”

A chuckle pushed past the man’s lips. “Ya hear that boys? The Kingslayer wants his whore alive
and unharmed. Unbesmirched. Bring ‘im over here and we’ll sort out the terms. Me name’s Locke,
Kingslayer. I need to make sure ya know who ya will be payin’ for my act of kindness.”
 Catelyn and Brienne exchanged a worried look as the men dragged Jaime to Locke. They shoved
Jaime to his knees roughly as Locke glared down at him.

“So, ya daddy will pay for the bitch to remain untouched? Is that what ya do every time ya don’t
wanna share? Ya throw ya shit gold around to get ya way?”

Catelyn moved quickly towards the man and implored him. “The Lannisters always pay their
debts. Lets get back to camp and I swear to you that House Stark will match what Lord Tywin
offers.”

Locke glared at Jaime before looking to Catelyn. “I don’t much trust Lannisters. I prefer to collect
me payment now.”

With the nod of his head, one of the men behind Jaime kicked him hard to the ground. Locke
leaned down and yanked on Jaime’s chains, stretching out his hands over his head. Taking the
blade in his hand, Locke leaned down and spoke to Jaime.

“I hear ya one of the best with a sword. Pity that.”

Raising his blade high, Locke swung down and cut clear through Jaime’s right wrist. Catelyn
gasped at the sight. The sound of Jaime’s scream filled the woods and cut right through her. It
seemed as though everything went still around them save for Locke and Jaime.

Locke stood upright and sneered at Jaime.

“I hope she was worth it.”

Chapter End Notes

Summary for anyone uncomfortable and skipping the chapter. Similar to the show,
Locke and his men try to rape Brienne. Jaime comes to her aid and loses his hand.
 "Don’t hurt her"
Chapter Summary

Brienne and Catelyn try to care for Jaime as they begin the journey back north.

Brienne gasped at the sight of Jaime’s severed hand. His sword hand. Everything had happened so
quickly, that she hardly processed it all until it was too late. As the men finished tying her up, she
looked to Catelyn who was screaming at Locke.

“What did you do!? That is not how we handle prisoners in the North! Robb will have your hand
for this!”

Locke sneered at her. “We ain’t in the North, Lady Stark. This here is the Riverlands. The bitch
killed me men and he offered to pay the price. Now, lets get back to King Robb.”

“He needs a maester! He’ll die before we get there.” The continued protest by Catelyn had the
opposite effect she desired.

A loud guffaw pushed past Locke’s lips. “Do ya seem them banners, Lady Stark. We know how to
torture a man without killin’ ‘im! Trust me, the Kingslayer will get to King Robb’s camp just
fine.”

Looking back to his men, Locke ordered them to move out. “Get Lady Stark setup on a horse. I’m
sick of her bellyachin’.”

The men quickly prepared the horses to depart and Brienne looked back to Jaime. He had nearly
passed out from blood loss and pain. Looking down at her tattered tunic, Brienne tore off a large
piece from the bottom to wrap around his wrist. The process was a struggle with her wrists bound
so tightly.

Taking urgent steps towards Jaime, Brienne yelled to Locke. “You have to help him! He’s going to
bleed out!”

With an exaggerated eyeroll, Locke met Brienne’s eyes. “Ya hear that boys? The big bitch is
worried about the Kingslayer.” The men chuckled nastily as Locke stalked towards her. With a
sneer, Locke tilted up his chin to meet Brienne’s eyes. “Kingslayer’s whore indeed. Ya give a shit?
Go tend to his little scrape.”

Locke barked at one of his men to bring some cloth and water. He shoved the supplies into
Brienne’s bound hands and raised a challenging brow. “Go on then. Help ya love.”

Brienne felt rage pool in her gut. In that moment, Jaime’s annoying prattling paled in comparison
to the despicable men before her.

Kneeling at Jaime’s side, Brienne placed her hands gently on his shoulder. “I have to stop the
bleeding.” It mattered little what she said. Jaime’s eyes were rolling into the back of his head. A
pool of vomit was near his face and blood covered his clothing where he held his maimed arm
close.
Brienne put her tattered piece of tunic onto her lap and wet it with water. Gently removing any
debris from the forest floor with the rag, Brienne tried to offer soothing words to Jaime. The touch
of the rag at his sensitive nerve endings sent screams of pain into the air around them.

When the wound was sufficiently cleaned out, Brienne tried and failed to bind his wrist. Her bound
hands lacked the necessary dexterity to wrap the cloth properly. A pair of small hands nudged hers
out of the way.

Looking over her left shoulder, Brienne saw Catelyn’s brows knitted with worry as she tightly
wrapped Jaime’s wrist.

“I’ll ensure we get him a maester. We need to stop the bleeding first.”

Catelyn looked to one of the men and barked at him. “Give me some rope. Be quick about it!”

The man looked stunned and guffawed at her words. “I don’t take orders from ya!”

Catelyn stood from her crouched position near Jaime and Brienne. “My son is King in the North.
You will have defied his orders if this man bleeds out on the forest floor. Get me some rope for his
wound or by the Seven I will name you personally responsible for this.”

The man stood in shock for a moment before turning to get some rope as commanded. When he
returned, Catelyn snatched it out of his hands and turned back to Jaime. She wrapped the rope
tightly around Jaime’s wrist over the cloth she put in place to cover the wound.

When she finished, Catelyn stood up and walked towards Locke. “You will find this man a
maester immediately, or I will see to it that you and all of your men see a more painful end than the
sigil of your banners.”

Locke laughed and shook his head. “I ain’t stoppin’. Ya son is already movin’ east towards the
Twins for ya brother’s wedding. He told whoever finds ya to bring ya there. I’m sure they’ll have a
fancy maester at the Twins for ya.”

“No! We will seek out a proper maester now. If you do not, I will tell Robb that you threatened my
life and forced yourself on me.”

Brienne’s eyes went wide at the words. Unlike what she had experienced of the Stark’s army, the
Starks themselves would never tolerate rape. Even the threat of it would see Locke and his men
executed.

Locke blanched slightly before letting out an irritated sigh. “Fine! Have it ya way, Lady Stark.
Nearest castle is Harrenhal. Lord Bolton has a maester there if they haven’t already gone north for
the blessed event.”

Seemingly mollified, Catelyn moved back towards Brienne and Jaime. Crouching down, she met
Brienne’s eyes. Lets get him up. We need to move quickly. We’re likely a couple of days out form
Harrenhal. I’ll make certain we get proper medicine at the next village. Something to hold him
over until we reach Harrenhal.”

Brienne nodded numbly as they lifted Jaime to his feet. She glanced down at Jaime’s severed hand
on the forest floor and felt guilt course through her body.

He lost the hand protecting me from rape. Why would he do that? I’m hardly worth it and he’s the
Kingslayer. He cares for no one save himself and his kin.
Locke’s men hoisted Jaime onto one of the horses that now found itself without a rider. Catelyn
moved to the horse that she had been provided as Brienne stood rooted in place, awaiting a horse
or a rope to tie her to the back of one.

They’re more likely to drag me by horse than see me safely to Harrenhal.

Catelyn grunted and again yelled to Locke. “Look at him! He’s going to fall right off!”

Locke snorted at the sight of Jaime listing from left to right. His men tried to hold Jaime in place
from the ground, but it was evident to anyone with sight that the Kingslayer couldn’t stay mounted.

“Put his whore with him. She’ll be in charge of keepin’ her love atop his horse. Tie them off
together.”

What!?

Before Brienne had a chance to protest, one of the men dragged her towards the horse. “Ya heard
the man. Hold ya Kingslayer tight.”

“She is not his whore! Mind your foul mouths!” Catelyn snapped at the men, but Brienne knew it
was a futile effort. Men such as this enjoyed assigning her shameful titles. Brienne the Beauty.
Kingslayer’s Whore.

Two men hoisted Brienne in front of Jaime and tied them together; Jaime’s chest against Brienne’s
back. Brienne gripped the saddle’s pommel tightly and prayed to the Seven that Jaime’s weight
wouldn’t pull them both from the horse. His chest and head slumped against her as they moved out
from the wooded area.

Catelyn kept her horse at pace with theirs, monitoring Jaime as best she could. The pace was
excruciating, and Brienne grew irritated at the lack of urgency from the men.

She could feel Jaime swaying left and right with each step the horse took. It was clear that he had
passed out and Brienne struggled to grip the pommel tightly enough to keep them both from falling
off. As the day wore on, Brienne’s hands were in excruciating pain. They began to seize up from
the effort and lack of water to keep her limbs loose.

“Brienne. Are you able to keep him upright?” Catelyn tried to reach out and push the Kingslayer’s
body upwards to center him, but he was dead weight at Brienne’s back.

“He’ll pull us both off soon. At the rate we’re moving, we might as well be walking. I could carry
him faster than this.”

Catelyn grunted in irritation and appraised the area. “Seven hells. He’ll get an infection if we
don’t seek aid, and you’re both going to further injure yourselves if you fall.”

Brienne again felt guilt gnaw at her. She wondered if she could have done more to fight Locke’s
men off. She wondered if she shouldn’t have suggested to Catelyn making her presence known. At
the time, it seemed the best approach.

It makes sense that someone as unwanted as me would be alone and needing to fend for myself. I
had not counted on Robb’s orders including description of my easily spotted ugliness. The only
thing not surprising was his request to bring back the important two alive.

“I’m sorry, Lady Stark. I failed to keep us concealed and safe.”

Catelyn’s head snapped to Brienne. The Stark matriarch grabbed at Brienne’s arm and squeezed
lightly as she spoke in hushed tones.

“Listen to me, Brienne. You did not fail me. You did not fail anyone. I failed us. I underestimated
what these men were capable of. You could have been raped or worse. You both could have been
killed trying to fight them off. He told me to unchain him so that he could help you and I refused. I
didn’t trust him.”

Brienne huffed a small laugh. It did seem absurd. Just the day prior the Kingslayer threatened to
kill them both. If Lady Catelyn had told Brienne of the Kingslayer’s willingness to fight at her
side, Brienne would have wondered if the woman suffered an unnoticed head injury.

Catelyn glanced away and took a deep breath. “I should have listened to him. I didn’t think the
men would harm you and they did. What a fool I was. My kin and my husband’s kin are honorable
people. I know Lord Bolton to be an honorable person, albeit a bit gruesome. Mayhap I read him
wrong. Clearly, I’ve read his men wrong. I’ve read all the Northmen wrong it seems. They’ve
proven no more honorable than the Lannisters. I’m sorry that you paid the price for my
misjudgment.”

The day dragged on and they soon made camp for the night. As promised, Catelyn stormed off
after Locke and demanded someone ride ahead towards a nearby village to get proper medical
supplies from a healer. Better yet, she wanted a healer brought to the camp.

Locke’s men built a fire, and a few moved into the woods to catch food. Appraising the men,
Catelyn grumbled and began to gather kindling of her own. “I don’t trust these men. We’ll setup
our own camp away from the main fire. I don’t want you near them tonight. They know they can’t
touch me, but I fear what they may do to you.”

The words sounded foreign to Brienne. No one had ever concerned themselves with her safety
before. She had expected a sleepless night. A survival instinct honed from time among equally
untrustworthy soldiers in Renly’s camp. Men who made bets on her maidenhead.

When the fire was ready, Catelyn helped Brienne guide a barely conscious Jaime to it. Catelyn
leaned down and grabbed Jaime’s head, tapping his cheeks. “Jaime Lannister, you wake up! You
have to eat and drink something to stay alive. We’ve sent for a healer.”

Jaime tried to push her away and mumbled. “Let me die.”

The words enraged Brienne. All her life she had been told how worthless she was by others. It
never stopped her from fighting She couldn’t comprehend why he would give up so easily. He was
a knight, even if a despicable one.

Is he despicable though? He saved me from rape at the cost of his hand. An ugly woman such as
myself. No one would have cared nor put up a fuss at word of my defilement. Why did he do that?

“What? Don’t you dare! You are a knight! Sit up and eat if you want to get back to your family.
We’ll see it done.” At Brienne’s outburst, Catelyn’s eyes went wide. She looked down to Jaime and
chuckled.

“Careful now, Kingslayer. You’ve pissed off Brienne. That might be more frightening than
meeting the Stranger. Now sit up.”

In truth, Brienne saw no path by which this ended in a prisoner exchange. She feared that this may
be turning into a corpse exchange. The Lannisters would no doubt send the Stark girls home in
boxes if Tywin caught word that his oldest son have been tortured and left untreated in the
Riverlands.

At Brienne’s words, Jaime’s eyes flickered open. She extended her hand which contained her ration
of bread. Begrudgingly, Jaime accepted it and took a small bite. His eyes lacked their usual spark
and it seemed as though he was already dead.

Pushing him into a seated position, Catelyn gave Jaime water which he choked down. An hour
later, one of Locke’s men returned with a local healer. When the woman approached with her
bundle of supplies, she gasped at the sight.

“Ya said he had a scratch, m’lord! He is missin’ a hand.” The older woman with kind eyes and a
portly body spoke through gritted teeth.

Locke’s man shrugged nonchalantly and bit into a piece of bread he procured from his comrades.
“Just do ya job woman. Keep this fucker alive. We paid more than enough.”

The woman sighed and knelt beside Jaime. Brienne watched intently as she unwrapped the binding
and appraised the wound. The healer grimaced at the sight and met Jaime’s eyes. “I’ll give ya
some poppy first.”

“No!” The Kingslayer shook his head. It was the first true emotion he showed since they took his
hand.

Looking at Jaime as though he was mad, the healer scoffed. “It’s not gunna feel pleasant, m’lord. I
recommend the poppy. Just a bit to help the pain.”

Jaime again refused and looked away. At the healer’s side, Catelyn extended her hand. “Let me
have it. I’ll get the fool to take some later when he can’t find sleep.”

The healer handed over the small vial of poppy to Catelyn and began rummaging through her bag.
She shook her head and muttered as she went. “Seven help me. A scratch my arse.”

When she began removing things from the bag, she turned to Brienne. “Ya look like a strong one.
Get a twig over there for his mouth. I’ll need ya to hold him down. This is gunna be painful.”

Brienne did as the woman instructed and she moved to Jaime’s other side. She positioned the twig
in his mouth and placed a hand on each shoulder. When Jaime’s eyes met hers, they reflected the
pain he knew was to follow.

It was strange to feel empathy for the Kingslayer, but Brienne did. Attempting to remain optimistic
for him, she offered a false smile. “We’ll get you fixed right up and back home in no time.”

The healer began to mix together some sort of cleansing solution before grabbing Jaime’s maimed
arm. With a final look to Brienne, the healer indicated she would begin.

As the woman poured the mixture onto the wound, Jaime bit down on the twig and screamed in
pain. He began to thrash wildly, and it took all of Brienne’s strength and weight to hold him down.

Catelyn rushed over from her seated position and held Jaime’s maimed arm still for the healer. She
looked down at Jaime and spoke urgently. “How about you take that poppy now?”

With a whimper, Jaime shook his head in refusal and squeezed his eyes shut. The healer procured
stitching from her sack and prepared the needle. Brienne’s eyes went wide at the sight.
Gods. I hope she has a lot of thread for stitching. This is not a small wound to close. As the woman
began to arrange the delicate nerve bundles into Jaime’s wrist so that the skin could fold over
them, Jaime screamed and thrashed harder than before.

Seven hells. He is strong even in such a weakened state. Why won’t he take the damn poppy?

Catelyn’s tone betrayed her worry at situation. “Gods. Would you, take the poppy.” Again, Jaime
refused. Silent tears fell from his eyes as the healer worked. The process seemed to go on forever
and Brienne was shocked that the Kingslayer had yet to pass out from the pain.

“A scab needs to form over parts of this. There isn’t enough loose skin to bind properly over the
entire area, but I’ve covered most of it. I’m going to pack the rest with this compound. It’ll keep
infection away and quicken the healin’ process. Make sure this gets reapplied every day.”

The woman left the mixture on the rock near Catelyn as she and Brienne nodded in understanding.
After the wound was packed, the woman bound the wrist in clean cloth and secured it in place.

“Ya should know that it still might not be enough. That ain’t no small injury. It could infect easily,
and the disease will spread quickly. Keep it clean, m’ladies.”

Catelyn thanked the woman as the healer packed her things. Looking down at Jaime, Brienne
could see that he had finally succumbed to the pain and passed out.

The woman left and Catelyn turned to Brienne. “You get some rest. I’ll watch over you both.”

“My lady, I don’t mind staying awake. I should guard you.”

With a sigh, Catelyn shook her head. “It isn’t me they’ll come for child. I’m their king’s mother.
They would be fools if they tried. They also can’t risk having the Kingslayer die under my son’s
orders to have him returned to camp alive. It’s you they’ll harm. Rest.”

Brienne nodded silently and moved towards the other side of the fire. She lay awake for some time
before finding sleep. She thought back on the morning’s events.

When Locke’s men attacked her, Brienne’s only plan was to slay as many as she could before they
raped and killed her. She had not expected Catelyn nor Jaime to come to her aid. She had not hoped
for it either.

Brienne learned at a young age not to hope for love, care, or kindness in this world. She would be
her own knight and protector. All Brienne concerned herself with was fulfilling her oath. So long
as Lady Stark’s hiding location was not discovered, she and the Kingslayer could continue south.

Brienne soon found sleep and when she did, it was naught but darkness. Her body and mind were
so fatigued from the past weeks, that it lacked the energy to even dream. When a hand shook her
awake gently, Brienne’s eyes looked up at Catelyn. The sun had not yet risen, but Brienne felt well
rested and ready to start the day.

“I need to sleep for an hour or two. The sun will be up soon.” At Catelyn’s words, Brienne startled
at the realization.

Gods. I slept the entire night.

Catelyn had kept the fire going and kept watch over them both as promised. Switching places with
Catelyn, Brienne appraised the Kingslayer. A light sweat dotted his brows and Brienne worried at
it.
It is well too early for infection to have set in.

As if sensing her confusion, Catelyn responded sleepily. “He threw up a couple of times and was
riddled with pain. I gave him some poppy and he has been much calmer sense, but I think he was
having a nightmare.”

The words gave Brienne the context her mind lacked to understand the Kingslayer’s state. Before
Catelyn rolled her, she mumbled a final thought.

“He kept muttering repeatedly through the nightmare, ‘Don’t hurt her’.”
 "Lady Stark mustn’t know of our plans"
Chapter Summary

Catelyn, Brienne, and Jaime arrive at Harrenhal. Catelyn makes her case to Roose.

They were just approaching Harrenhal after four days of travel. The pace at which the Bolton men
moved was unbearable. It seemed to Catelyn that they were content to draw out the suffering of
their captives.

The Kingslayer was tied to Brienne atop a horse. Locke’s men had made it a daily ritual despite
Catelyn’s protests. At first, it was born more out of necessity than jest. When Jaime was strong
enough to ride on his own yesterday, Locke still elected to tie them together on a single horse. ‘The
lovers’ they called them. ‘The Kingslayer’s Whore’ they called Brienne.

If they only knew how far from the truth that is. Brienne and the Kingslayer likely dream of little
more than killing each other.

Catelyn saw the continued vacancy in Jaime’s eyes. Eyes that once sparkled with mischief and life
were now a hollow gateway into his dying soul. The events of the past four days weighed on
Catelyn. The most pressing question was why.

Why did he rush to aid Brienne? He is a man with little concern or regard for others. He is an
oathbreaker. Kingslayer. Man without honor.

Catelyn thought back on that first night in Locke’s camp. Brienne had fallen asleep and soon
thereafter, the rowdy voices around the main campfire began to die down. The night was cool, but
not as cold nights prior.

At her side, Jaime groaned in pain. He went in and out of consciousness as the hours pressed on.
His body began to shake from the ordeal it had been put through, and Catelyn recognized the
strangled gurgling of a stomach about to purge itself.

She had heard the sound many times with her own children. Catelyn would hold back their hair and
pat their backs, whispering soothing words. Rolling Jaime to his side, Catelyn ensured he didn’t
choke to death on his own vomit. Again, she tried to get him to take poppy. Again, he stubbornly
refused.

Catelyn’s mind conjured the image of Bran. She struggled to reconcile how the man at her side
would sacrifice himself to save an enemy from rape, yet the same man would push an innocent
child from a tower window. She hated him, but he baffled her.

The hate was stronger though. She hated him for what he had done to Bran. She hated him for the
war that his dalliances with his sister ignited. She hated him acting dishonorably by killing his
king.

Regardless of what Aerys’ actions, he was the king. Any man betraying his oaths and duty to his
king, was not a man who Catelyn wished to be near. Catelyn understood the hypocrisy of it given
her husband’s role in Robert’s Rebellion, but their cause had justifiable reason. Lynna Stark,
Catelyn’s would be goodsister, was kidnapped by Rhaegar.

Despite all of that and loathe as Catelyn was to admit it, she wouldn’t wish what Locke did to the
Kingslayer on anyone, including the man himself. Soon, Jaime’s body began to shake more
violently with pain. He again vomited and Catelyn could do little more than offer a small
compassion.

There are more honorable ways to handle an enemy. I will have words with Roose when we get to
Harrenhal.

Rubbing Jaime’s back, Catelyn spoke more to herself than Jaime. “I don’t know why you saved
Brienne, but I thank you for it. I didn’t see the threat properly. I thought the Northmen more
honorable than that. More honorable than you. I should have listened to you.”

With a sigh, Catelyn looked to the night sky. It was a clear night and she could make out every
constellation. It reminded her of home. She always enjoyed laying out in the fields as a girl and
looking up at the stars.

Back when things were simple. Peaceful.

Strangely, the night reminded Catelyn of Jaime’s visit to Riverrun as a young man. He had been
serving as a squire for Lord Crakehall and was sent to Riverrun with a missive too delicate for a
raven.

Her father, Hoster Tully, had begun discussions with Tywin Lannister about betrothing Jaime and
Lysa. Lord Hoster tried to seat the pair together at dinners during the brief time Jaime was there,
but Jaime showed little interest in Lysa.

Catelyn remembered biting back a life as Jaime spent the visit trailing after her uncle, Brynden
Tully. The young man wanted to hear Brynden’s tales of the War of the Ninepenny Kings and
Brynden’s other experiences in the field.

It was like watching a hound catch sent of his target. Catelyn could see the slight exhaustion on her
uncle’s face as Jaime peppered him with question after question.

She remembered Jaime as the most handsome young man she had ever seen. Unfortunately, he
seemed to share the same opinion. Catelyn herself was elated over her betrothal to Brandon Stark,
Ned’s older brother.

Catelyn had hoped that her sister would find a similarly promising alliance in someone like Jaime
Lannister. It seemed that the price for such a fine match would be enduring the young man.

The rumors of Jaime’s skill with a sword preceded him. On a few occasions, she watched Jaime
spar with their men. The rumors had not done him justice. He was incredible.

It was quickly evident to Catelyn that Jaime had as much interest in Lysa as he had in playing at
lord. In a way, Jaime reminded Catelyn of her uncle. Both wished to be great knights. Neither
seemed to desire lordship nor marriage.

On a clear night such as the one she found herself in now, Catelyn made her way outside. She
enjoyed relaxing in the field outside the Keep and looking up at the stars. The wind would blow
through and kiss the grass, pushing the delicate blades against her face.

It was there that she saw Jaime sitting in the field on such a night. They had barely spoken since his
arrival a week prior. He hardly seemed interested in conversation with anyone save for her uncle.
For what little Jaime did speak to Lysa, Catelyn, and Edmure, he seemed arrogant and
exasperating.

“What are you doing out here?” Catelyn approached Jaime with narrowed eyes.

Jaime startled slightly, but his body relaxed as he looked to her. “Hiding from your sister.”

Catelyn snorted and sat next to him. “She isn’t that bad.”

“She’s no Lannister.”

At the words, Catelyn rolled her eyes. Knowledge of House Lannister’s hubris was as common as
knowledge of the Targaryen’s madness. “Well you’re certainly not lacking confidence.”

Jaime’s chest swelled as he spoke. “I’m going to be a knight. A great one. They’ll need a separate
White Book just for my deeds alone. Confidence is somewhat important.”

“So is awareness. I snuck up on you easily enough.” Catelyn spoke in a slightly teasing tone. She
was always an honest girl; sometimes to the point of bluntness. Her father thought the
characteristic, as well as her sense of duty, would pair well with a Stark husband.

Jaime scoffed and met her eyes. “You did not sneak up on me. My senses were merely overrun by
the smell of rotting fish. You had an unfair advantage.”

The light dig at her House did not go unnoticed nor would it go unchecked. It was hardly Jaime’s
first remark of such nature to spill from his mouth. With a sarcastic smile, Catelyn returned the
offering.

“They say the Lannisters shit gold. Seems painful; likely to cause a blockage. Is that what leads to
your verbal diarrhea, or is that just your unique charm pushing through?”

A spark in Jaime’s eye told Catelyn that the retort would be well returned. They sat and bantered
for some time. He was quick of wit, but his words held a biting undertone of superiority.

While she didn’t envy Lysa for needing to play nice with the boy, Catelyn did appreciate the spark
in his eye.

He’s a fighter like Uncle Brynden. Likely a strong ally if you can get him to shut up long enough to
hear reason. Strikes me a bit rash though. He’ll need someone honorable and grounded to keep
him in line.

Looking to Jaime now, she saw a man broken in more ways than one. His dreams of becoming a
respected knight shattered when he slayed Aerys. His standing as an unparalleled swordsman
destroyed after losing his hand.

What happened to you? What happened to that boy who shadowed my uncle, longing to be a great
knight?

“Remember when you came to Riverrun? You were a miserable shit.”

The comment momentarily distracted Jaime from the immense pain he seemed to be in. Glancing
weakly to Catelyn, a fleeting memory danced in Jaime’s eyes. Swallowing thickly, his voice came
out barley a whisper. “I only remember rotting fish.”

Catelyn snorted and rolled her eyes. “My uncle feared leaving the privy only to find you waiting
outside with your relentless stream of questions.”

At the mention of her uncle, Jaime’s eyes darkened slightly. He swallowed thickly and began to
turn away, but Catelyn grabbed his shoulder. It was obvious to Catelyn why Jaime reacted so
aversely.

Jaime idolized her uncle, or at least, he had as a boy. She recognized it in the way Jaime followed
him around and looked to him with wonder. Catelyn imagined that it irritated the Kingslayer to see
her uncle and other knights look down upon him. The man who killed his king.

Catelyn made her final attempt at getting the Kingslayer to take some poppy for his own good. He
needed rest to recover. If the pain was too great to find sleep, his health would fail. Catelyn would
not weep for his death, but the Kingslayer was her best chance to see her daughters returned alive.

“My uncle is one of the bravest men I know. He respected that in other men, even if they were
enemies. He would have respected what you did for Brienne…”

Catelyn watched something flash across Jaime’s face that told her the approach hit its mark. “He
would also call you a great dolt for refusing poppy after having your hand cut off. Even my uncle
would have taken the offering to ensure a faster recovery. A quickened return to fighting for his
kin. He would never give up. Not once.”

Begrudgingly, Jaime took the poppy and Catelyn smiled inwardly. Soon after, Jaime found sleep.
Most of the Kingslayer’s rest seemed peaceful, but then a nightmare took hold not long before
Catelyn woke Brienne. ‘Don’t touch her.’

What is he dreaming of? Something about Cersei? Is he reliving today? No, surely that can’t be it.
Mayhap another memory?

Now as they entered the dilapidated gates of Harrenhal, Catelyn saw Roose walking out to greet
them. His stoic face scanned the group led by Locke.

When Roose’s eyes landed on the Kingslayer’s maimed arm, his eyes widened slightly. For those
who didn’t know Roose as Catelyn did, they would have missed it. He was a politically savvy man;
quick to conceal his thoughts on matters. A slight hope sparked in Catelyn.

Mayhap I can sway him to my cause. Use guilt for what his men did and tried to do.

As Catelyn, Brienne, and Jaime were lined up before Roose, Catelyn appraised the northern lord.
His eyes flickered to Locke. It was evident that Roose was unamused by the state of Locke’s
captives.

Jaime looked as though he had been through the seven hells and back again. Brienne’s face was
still a map of bruises from the beating she endured at the hands of Locke’s men. It was likely her
ribs looked no better. Her clothes were in tatters and her hair disheveled.

Both Brienne and Jaime were restrained by rope or chain. Only Catelyn stood free, tall, and proud.

“Lady Stark. Good to see you looking well. The same cannot be said for your traveling
companions. Our king is most displeased by what you’ve done.”

Catelyn raised a challenging brow. “Lord Bolton. What I’ve done is attempt to see the king’s
sisters returned to him alive. Your men impeded that objective. In fact, they attempted to defy my
son’s orders. If found, we were to be returned alive. As you can see, that almost did not come to
pass.”
Roose looked to Locke knowingly before he appraised Jaime. “Kingslayer. I see you’ve lost a
hand.”

Locke smirked at the words and spoke before Jaime could respond. “I wouldn’t say he lost it
m’lord. He offered it as payment.”

Catelyn felt rage pool in her gut. She glared at Locke before turning to Roose. “Your creature
ordered his men to rape my sworn sword. A noblewoman merely following my orders. Then he
took Ser Jaime’s hand for stopping the vile act. Is this the type of House you now lead, Lord
Bolton?”

With a heavy sigh, Roose looked to Locke with disdain writ across his face. “Untie them. We will
have words later.” Roose turned his attention to Brienne and inclined his head. “My lady. I
apologize for what you’ve endured at the hands of my men. That is now how House Bolton seeks
to conduct itself.”

Roose spoke commandingly to the men at his side. “Provide our guests with quarters inside and
then show them to the baths. I’ll take my meal with them before we move out for the Twins.”

Catelyn felt panic rise. “Lord Bolton. I would like to speak with you privately before being shown
to my room.”

Nodding in acknowledgement, Roose gestured towards the rundown Keep, indicating that Catelyn
should follow. For seemingly the first time in days, Jaime spoke unprompted.

“Lord Bolton. Is there any word from the capital?” Catelyn knew what he was asking after. His
sister.

Looking to Jaime, Roose raised a brow. “You haven’t heard? Stannis Baratheon laid siege to
King’s Landing. Sailed into Blackwater Bay. Stormed the gates with thousands of men. And your
sister…”

Taking pause, Catelyn watched the faintest smile tug at his lips.

Whatever this is, he’s enjoying it. He is toying with the Kingslayer.

“How can I put this? Your sister… is alive and well. Your father’s forces and the men from the
Reach secured the city and destroyed the threat.”

At the words, Jaime’s entire body visibly relaxed and he began to sway. Catelyn could understand
the feeling of not knowing the fate of your loved ones. It was Jaime who put her in a similar
position before.

Roose’s men led Jaime and Brienne inside to follow his instruction as Catelyn followed Roose
towards a small room he had been using as a study.

“Lady Stark. Make yourself comfortable. I will be back in just a moment.”

Catelyn moved inside the room and took a seat as she awaited Roose’s return. A fire was going and
warmed the room enough to color Catelyn’s cheeks. It was the first time she felt warm in weeks.

After some time, Roose entered the room and sat opposite Catelyn. “So, what can I help you
with?”

Taking a deep breath, Catelyn pled her case. “We have known one another for a long time. Unlike
my son, we have seen and experienced things that he has not. He believes wars are fought on the
battlefield alone. Your son, Domeric died off the battlefield a few short years ago; likely to
poisoning. You know how dangerous politics can be. Some might say it is more dangerous than
the battlefield where you can see the threat. I need you help. My daughters are not safe in King’s
Landing with the Lannisters. You know this. The Kingslayer will never be a physical threat again
after what your man has done to him. If word gets out of his maiming, he will be a useless hostage
for Robb. Tywin wants his son back whole. Let me make the exchange for my daughters before he
finds out. Please.”

Roose sat back and crossed his arms. “You’re asking me to commit treason against my king. Your
son. He could have me beheaded.”

With a heavy sigh, Catelyn leaned forward. “Roose, please. I cannot lose my girls. You have my
word that Robb will serve you no punishment in this. I will take the penalty for you if it comes. I
only saw your House’s banners here upon entering the gates. Swear them to secrecy on the matter
and you will have mine. If Robb finds out, I will take the blame. I will claim that on the escape
south, a group of criminals set upon us and took Jaime’s hand.”

The older lord scratched at his chin and looked out the window. He shook his head slightly before
meeting Catelyn’s eyes. “I cannot take the risk on my House, but I will give aid under my terms. I
will tell King Robb the truth of it up until your arrival at Harrenhal. I will say that arrived at night,
and after affording you and Lady Brienne guest quarters, you again secreted the Kingslayer out.
That your sworn sword slew the guards at his cell. I will say that we were able to capture her, but
you and the Kingslayer had taken a different path. The she served as a diversion.”

Catelyn gasped and sat back in her chair. I can’t abandon Brienne.

“I will not leave Lady Brienne. She is under my protection.”

With a raised brow, Roose shrugged. “Then my apologies, Lady Stark, but I cannot see this done.”

Catelyn’s spirits fell and she worried at her lip. She could feel Roose studying her and he soon
spoke again. “You say that your daughters are important enough to defy your son. Important
enough to ask me to commit treason, yet you cling to this woman. Why?”

Sincerity shown in Catelyn’s eyes as she spoke. “She is a good woman and I won’t see harm befall
her. Your men tried to rape her and murder her at my negligence. Lady Brienne is no less an
innocent in this madness than my daughters. She is the only heir to her House.”

“What House is she from?” Roose’s brows knitted as she spoke.

“House Tarth. Lord Selwyn’s other children have passed. She is all that remains.”

Nodding in understanding, Roose looked back to the window. “Very well. I have a proposal then.
Lady Brienne will come with me and my men. She will be under my protection and you have my
word that no harm will befall her. With Domeric dead, I have no other heir. My ask of King Robb
would be to legitimize Ramsay. Ramsay will need a wife and while the woman is no prize, she
could bring the Stormlands to our cause. With Stannis’ defeat, the Stormlands are scattered. I
know of Lord Selwyn. He is well respected in the Stormlands. As your sworn sword, Lady Brienne
could guard Robb until the time comes for her to wed Ramsay. She would be close to you then in
the North.”

Catelyn considered Roose’s words. Strategically it made sense and she could see why he would
consider this. Brienne could be valuable in uniting the now defeated Stormlands which still held a
grudge against the crown. For his House, Roose would be positioned to see his line continue and he
would hold sway in the Stormlands via Brienne.

From her time with Brienne, Catelyn had been surprised to learn that the young woman had not
longed to be a knight as a child.

Mayhap she wished to be wed and have babes, but because of her appearance, she could not. She
did seem downtrodden at the memory of her failed betrothals. She must want this though. I will not
see her forced into a marriage she does not want.

“I would ask a condition of this. Lady Brienne must agree. I would like her to meet Ramsay first
and then, if she finds him agreeable, to write for her father’s blessing. I would not see this forced
on her. She would make a fine guard for Robb until my return. I trust her with my life, and as such,
with my son’s.”

A slight hesitation played at Roose’s features, but he nodded in agreement. “Very well. Regardless
of her decision, you have my word that no harm will befall her. I will tell Robb of her loyalty to you
which should sway him on keeping her at his side. She could also write her father to rally the
Stormlands to our cause. They are weakened and need an ally.”

Catelyn relaxed slightly and offered a small smile. Then, her tone became serious. “I do not want
Locke nor his men near her on your journey to the Twins.”

Roose huffed a laugh. “Locke will be staying here, at Harrenhal. One of my most trusted men,
Steelshanks, will take a small group to escort you all to King’s Landing. He was also to stay
behind. It was only to be myself and a handful of my men escorting me to the Twins. Robb wanted
to maintain military presence in the Riverlands.”

Catelyn rose form her seat and nodded. “You have my thanks. I would like to speak with Brienne
before I leave. I want to ensure she is comfortable with this.”

I also need to know she feels safe with this. I won't fail her again.

Roose watched as Catelyn left the room. The conversation had gone better than planned. When
Locke and his men had arrived at Harrenhal, Roose had been displeased for two reasons.

The first issue that Roose had with Locke was the Kingslayer’s maiming. He had treated with
Tywin to turn against Robb in exchange for the North. He would be named Lord of Winterfell and
Warden of the North.

It would not be well received by his new alliance that one of his men took the Kingslayer’s hand.
Roose would need to deal with that accordingly.

The second issue that Roose faced was Locke’s return to Harrenhal. When one of Locke’s men
rode into a village a few days ago to procure a healer, the woman spread rumors of the
Kingslayer’s capture and indicated that Lady Stark was with the Boltons.

Word had arrived at Harrenhal and been sent ahead to the Twins by other Houses serving Robb.
Locke was supposed to make his way to the Twins where Lady Stark and her beast of sword would
be killed at Edmure’s wedding. When he set out to find the Kingslayer, he was not to return to
Harrenhal if he succeeded.

Gods. The dolt. Going to a village for a healer after maiming the son of my new ally. I suppose he
didn’t know of my dealings, but truly…
Knowing that the North would expect Lady Stark’s safe return to the Twins, Roose needed to take
a different approach. He could not risk word getting out of Catelyn’s murder at Harrenhal at his
House’s hands.

After showing Catelyn into the study, he spoke with Locke and Steelshanks. Upon learning of the
beastly woman’s skill with a sword, Roose realized it would be an easy enough tale to spin that she
killed Roose’s guards at the Kingslayer’s cell to facilitate another escape.

Since both Locke and Steelshanks were meant to stay behind at Harrenhal, Roose would instead
assign a few men to go with Steelshanks and escort Jaime and Catelyn south. On the way south,
Steelshanks would kill Lady Catelyn. Without Brienne there to protect her, there would be no
chance of escape.

Roose would leave Brienne behind with Locke to do with as he pleased before killing the beastly
woman. He had concocted the plan to see Catelyn separated from the beast.

After their meal, Steelshanks would journey south without banners displaying his allegiance to
House Bolton. That would ensure no one witnessed Catelyn murdered by House Bolton. Most in
the Riverlands and Crownlands would not recognize Roose’s men without announcing themselves.

While it was likely the North would find out of Roose’s presence at the Twins during the planned
downfall of House Stark, the objective was to see blame pinned on the Freys. Roose could not let
word get back to the Northern lords that he killed or had a major hand in killing the Starks.

Roose would claim to have escaped the wedding. He knew that he would otherwise risk an open
rebellion when word got around that he turned on his liege lord. It would of course seem
suspicious when he was named Warden and Lord of Winterfell, but it was a risk that he was
willing to take.

For that reason, Roose planned to keep his men away from the Twins. They offered to remain at
Harrenhal and guard the Riverlands alongside other smaller vassals not attending the wedding.
King Robb had been most appreciative.

Exiting the small room, Roose made his way to Qyburn. The disgraced maester was hunched over
a small desk in the study he had been afforded.

“Qyburn, I have a task for you.”

The man looked up through his lashes before standing to bow. “Yes, my lord. How may I be of
service?”

“Lord Tywin Lannister’s son is under our guard here. He will be escorted to King’s Landing with
Lady Catelyn Stark under Steelshank’s charge. Locke’s men took the Kingslayer’s hand during his
recapture. He looks unwell and it is imperative that we keep him alive. Lord Tywin will be most
displeased if his son is not fully recovered. I need you to ensure that happens.”

A spark flashed in the Qyburn’s eyes. Roose knew that Qyburn would seek to curry favor with the
crown, and this would be his chance to do so.

Before Roose left the room, he turned to Qyburn. “Oh, and one other thing. Lady Stark mustn’t
know of our plans.”
 "Time to feed me bear"
Chapter Summary

Brienne reacts to the day's events and realizes that she has been left with Locke.

Chapter Notes

Warning: Yet another Locke and Brienne chapter where there is attempted rape.
Again, this will not happen. This is more a spin on the Vargo and Brienne moment in
the books. This part is at the end if anyone wants to skip it. This is the last chapter in
this fic that reflects the "attempted rape" tag. No more of that horror going forward!

Brienne digested Catelyn’s words as they sat in the dark, rundown guest room provided by Roose’s
men. She had just returned from the meal with Lord Bolton, Lady Catelyn, and Ser Jaime. The day
had turned Brienne’s world on its head.

Before taking lunch with Lord Bolton, Brienne had a most shocking encounter in the baths with
Jaime. At first, she was irritated at his continued harassment of her. Climbing into her tub, Jaime
mocked her failed attempt to guard Renly.

It wasn’t until Brienne stood before him naked and in a blind rage that Jaime called for a truce.
Brienne’s perspective of a black and white world shifted to grey as she heard his words.

Jaime told her the truth of Aerys death and the conflicting vows he faced. The impossible decision
a young knight had to make to save a city. Brienne had never thought of the world in such terms.

Things were right or wrong. Good or bad. Just or unjust. Her beliefs were challenged by a single
tale of one man’s heroic deed at the cost of his own identity.

As if the conversation wasn’t overwhelming enough, the heat of the baths pushed Jaime’s
weakened body to the edge. When Jaime fainted, Brienne rushed to catch him. She called for aid
from the guards who took Jaime’s barely conscious body to Qyburn for assessment.

He sacrificed himself for the greater good. He saved an entire city of innocents. I misjudged him.

Now as Brienne heard Roose’s offer from Lady Catelyn, she contemplated her own role to play.
She didn’t wish to serve as a political piece to be maneuvered, but the plan made sense.

Mayhap this is how I can sacrifice myself for the greater good. I doubt Roose’s son would have me,
but if he does and I can rally the Stormlands to our cause, we could remove the false king. My
happiness matters little in all of this.

Of course, Lady Catelyn insisted this was Brienne’s decision, but it didn’t feel that way to Brienne.
It felt like a duty that she was being called by the Gods to perform. She wanted to see the Stark
girls returned to their mother. She wanted to see the kingdoms unite to overthrow an unlawful and
unworthy king. She wanted to do her duty to Tarth.

Brienne knew that she would not be loved by Roose’s son. She believed that no one could ever
love her. She prayed to the Seven that despite an inability to be loved, she could at least be treated
kindly. It was all she dared hope for.

At the same time, the thought of becoming a Bolton after what Roose’s men did in the Riverlands
made Brienne sick to her stomach.

Mayhap his son is different? Lady Catelyn trusts Lord Bolton. Perhaps his son is more like him
than his men.

“And you trust him, my lady?”

Catelyn sighed and nodded. “He has given me no reason not to. Lord Bolton is one of our strongest
vassals and supporters. He has offered sound advice to my son during his campaign. I do not
believe he would see you harmed, although I do not know this bastard son he seeks to claim.”

“No, my lady. I mean you. Are you certain about his men escorting you south? Consider what
Locke did. I fear leaving you.”

The Stark matriarch furrowed her brows. “Oh, Brienne. Do not worry about me. This is my risk to
take. I worry about you. I won’t see you do this if it brings you discomfort.”

Brienne looked to her lap. She took in the sight of the pink gown covering her long legs. Roose’s
men had mocked her when they threw the moth-eaten dress at her.

Gods. As if I could get any more hideous. It is highly likely that I’ll never need to follow through
on the betrothal part once this man sees me.

“It’s a better match than I could ever hope to make. While I don’t expect Lord Bolton’s son to
accept me, even a contrived betrothal may be enough for my father to try and sway the Stormlands.
I’m happy to aid your House’s cause. If I may, my lady… when I am inevitably refused by this
Ramsay, may I stay and serve you?”

Catelyn’s face sank at the question and Brienne worried that she would be sent away when the
time came.

“Brienne. You are a noblewoman to a well-known Stormlands vassal. This match is more to Lord
Bolton’s advantage than your own. I am lucky to have you, but if the match with Lord Bolton’s son
doesn’t work out, I would ask that we speak with your father. I don’t want to see your line end
because of me. I nearly caused it already.”

Brienne sighed and nodded in understanding. It would soon be time for Lady Catelyn, Bolton’s
men, and Ser Jaime to ride south. Lord Bolton would leave soon thereafter, and Brienne hoped
they would give her more appropriate riding clothes for the journey north.

After Catelyn left, Brienne sat in quiet contemplation. She wondered at the reaction she would
receive at the Twins.

Will Lord Bolton’s presence be enough to keep King Robb and his men form killing me as
punishment for aiding the Kingslayer’s escape? Will King Robb allow me to serve, or will he send
me away before Lady Catelyn returns?

Unexpectedly, the door to her room opened. Standing at the intrusion, Brienne was surprised to see
Jaime in the doorway. He had a strange look on his face as he appraised the room. His nose
crinkled in distaste as his eyes landed on her.

“Wench. You look absurd in that dress.”

Brienne shifted uncomfortably on her feet. She scowled at his pointing out the obvious. It was as
though his sole purpose was to give voice to the thoughts already in her head.

Before she could reply, Jaime continued. He sneered at her as he spoke. “So, I hear you’re to
become Lady Bolton once the man’s bastard is legitimized. All that effort to save your maidenhead
form Bolton’s dogs. Now you willingly offer yourself to them.”

It had not occurred to Brienne how Jaime would take the information. In truth she thought that he
would care little. The Bolton’s had maimed him and now she was to become one of them. Brienne
knew it was a political maneuver that would never come to pass, but she understood how it could
offend the man before her.

“I never got to properly thank you for that. It is a debt that I can never repay. I did not ask for this
though. I’m no more likely to become Lady Bolton than I am to be knighted. The man hasn’t seen
me yet. I’m certain he will share your opinion of me.”

Jaime’s face softened slightly, but there was still an undertone of annoyance in his voice. “And if
he doesn’t? What if he’s blind?”

Brienne swallowed thickly. In truth she had not considered any scenario wherein she ended up
married to a Bolton.

“Fortunately for me, I doubt that he is both blind and deaf. I seem to recall someone letting me
know that I’m as boring as I am ugly.”

Jaime looked away somewhat uncomfortably. He muttered his next words but cut himself off. “I
didn’t…”

Taking a deep breath, he looked back to Brienne. His voice seemed uncertain. “And your lady who
you’re sworn to protect? You’re just going to let her go off with more of Bolton’s men and me.
How do you know that I simply won’t slit her throat in her sleep?”

Brienne sighed at the words. Repeating his words from the bathhouse earlier, Brienne met his
eyes. Her cheeks reddening slightly as she spoke with the utmost sincerity. “I trust you.”

Jaime’s jaw slackened slightly, and he looked away. Nodding, he glanced at Brienne without
turning his head to face her. “I best get going. Good luck with your betrothed, wench.”

“Goodbye Ser Jaime.”

After a moment’s hesitation, Jaime reached for the door and left. Brienne was again alone in her
thoughts. She once more appraised herself in the wretched dress.

Gods. Roose’s son would need to be blind indeed.

Near an hour passed as she thought on the past weeks. Brienne considered what Lord Bolton
sought and prayed he was genuine in his offered aid to Catelyn.

Lady Catelyn had little reason not to trust him, but Brienne considered Jaime’s words.
Will Lady Catelyn truly be safe with the men? Surely Ser Jaime is honorable. He saved a worthless
woman like me from rape. I’m certain he would protect a woman like Lady Catelyn from harm.

The door again opened to reveal Locke and a handful of his men. At the sight of them, Brienne’s
heart faltered. Standing slowly, she wondered if they came to take her to Lord Bolton.

“There she is. The Kingslayer’s Whore. Well… my whore now, I suppose.”

Brienne flinched at the words. “I’m to leave with Lord Bolton for the Twins.”

Locke laughed sadistically and took a menacing step forward after closing the door and barring it.
His eyes roamed her body and he sneered at her.

“Ya not goin’ anywhere. Lord Bolton already left. Ya lady is to be disposed off once they get
further south.”

At the words, Brienne felt panic set in. The thought of Lady Catelyn unknowingly riding off to her
death sent Brienne’s mind racing. Before she could think on it further, Locke took another step
forward. His blade was unsheathed at his side and the small rays of light pouring through the lone
window in the room caught its sharp edge.

“Don’t worry. Ya’ll see ya lady soon. The Stranger will come for ya before the day is out. First,
we’re gunna finish what we started in the woods.”

The men began to circle Brienne. Her breathing labored as her body became acutely aware of the
threat. Readying for the fight of her life, Brienne could only think of one thing.

I failed her again.

Two men circled Brienne and stood at her back as four other men moved before her. Off to the
side, Locke looked on with his blade in hand. A vicious smirk was etched on his face as he
dragged the blade across the wooden bedframe.

The men behind her lunged forward, grabbing at her arms. Brienne elbowed one in the face,
catching him off guard. She shoved the other backwards and into the wall, screaming as she pushed
him. Headbutting the man as hard as she could, Brienne heard the satisfying sound of his nose
breaking on contact.

Before she could savor the small victory, more hands were at her hair and arms, yanking her
backwards and to the floor. Everything was a blur. Hands tore at her dress and lifted her skirt.
Brienne flailed wildly, kicking and punching at any flesh her body could connect with.

The men taunted and mocked her. Rough hands grabbed at her legs, stomach, and shoulders to pin
her down. Screaming out, the men grunted at the effort to keep her down. Locke slowly came into
view near her feet.

He twirled his blade in hand and peered down at her. “Ya’re an awful lotta trouble. How many
times do I gotta tell ya not to harm me men?” Locke leaned down at met her eyes. “This won’t be
gentle. I ain’t ya Kingslayer. Do ya prefer a preview with me blade?”

Brienne’s eyes went wide as Locke continued to twirl the blade in his hand. Dropping to his knees,
he untied his breeches and leaned down towards her face. Brienne squirmed and fought with
everything she had. Unseen fingers tugged at her smallclothes and danced along the inside of her
thighs.
She felt Locke move into position between her legs, but he took pause to lean down and taunt her
first. “Never been in such a big, ugly bitch before. Bet I’ll fill ya up better than ya Kingslayer.”

The man’s face was close as his putrid breath invaded Brienne’s nostrils. No matter what, she
would leave her mark. Before Locke could defile her, Brienne acted. With everything she had,
Brienne pulled her upper body forward and chomped down hard on his ear.

Locke screamed in pain, but Brienne kept her jaws clamped as hard as she could. She could feel her
teeth cutting through flesh as each of their heads pulled in opposite directions. Locke’s screams
filled the room as his men tried to pry Brienne’s jaws from him.

“Get ‘er off me! My ear! Fuckin’ cunt!”

As Brienne bit through his flesh and yanked the ear from Locke’s head, the man fell backwards in
agony. Brienne spit his ear at him while blood dripped down her chin and neck. Wide eyes looked
to her in shock.

Locke grabbed at his head. “Fuckin’ bitch! Ya not even worth the effort. Take her to the pit boys!”

As the men hauled Brienne to her feet and began to drag her from the room, she heard Locke’s
voice scream out. “Time to feed me bear!"
 "I’ll throw you in a pit with a lion"
Chapter Summary

Jaime learns more about Ramsay and takes matters into his own hands.

‘Goodbye Ser Jaime.’ The wench’s words rolled around in Jaime’s head. She had looked to him
with respect and trust as they parted ways. Jaime couldn’t remember the last time that anyone
spoke to him in such a way.

Most called him Kingslayer behind his back, but few would dare to call him ‘Kingslayer’ to his
face. Catelyn and Brienne were among a short list of those brave enough to do so.

Most called him ‘Ser Jaime’, but only with contempt in their voice as though it pained them to use
the title ‘ser’. As far as Westeros was concerned, Jaime sullied the white cloak and tarnished the
honorary title.

The last time someone spoke to Jaime as Brienne had, he had not yet killed his king. Jaime couldn’t
pinpoint why, but hearing the wench call him ‘Ser Jaime’ with sincerity sent a warmth through his
body. Jaime imagined the only thing that could amplify the feeling, would be hearing the title
dropped.

Jaime. Just Jaime.

“So, you finally had enough of Lord Brian following you around.” Jaime spat the words at Catelyn
as they made their way out of Harrenhal’s courtyard. Only an hour earlier, they had shared a meal
with Lord Bolton where it was revealed that Brienne would go north with Lord Bolton while
Catelyn oversaw the prisoner exchange.

Jaime heard of the arrangement between Roose and Catelyn from Steelshanks. Robb was to think
this yet another escape. At first, Jaime questioned Roose’s motivation in agreeing to aid Catelyn.
Then he heard of Brienne’s role in the plot.

His bastard needs a bride. What better bride than one who brings the North a kingdom already at
war with the crown and whose last Baratheon is now defeated. Once Roose’s bastard sees the
wench, he might think the benefit not worth the cost.

Jaime’s internal meanderings did not match his heart. He couldn’t understand why, but the thought
of the wench betrothed to the Bolton bastard, even if legitimized, bothered him. It was with deep
unease that Jaime realized the thought of the wench betrothed to anyone bothered him.

A strange sensation tugged at his heart when he conjured the wench’s face. Her large sapphire
pools looking to him with respect as she donned a hideous pink dress the men forced upon her.

Jaime’s mind wandered to the bath they shared. The wench now carried a piece of Jaime that no
one else could claim; not even Cersei. She had knowledge of his true reasons for killing Aerys and
surprisingly, she believed him. Jaime had expected her to laugh or reject the truth. To challenge his
version of the circumstances.

The thought of their shared bath brought a new set of images to mind. The wench’s long legs,
smooth skin, subtle curves, lean body, and perky teats. Alarmingly, Jaime felt a stirring in his
breeches akin to the one experienced during his bath with the wench.

I certainly won’t tell anyone about that bath. Once I’m away from the wench and back in Cersei’s
arms, my cock will heal properly. Catelyn must have slipped me more poppy before that fucking
bath. My cock went all demented again.

In response to Jaime’s comment, Catelyn shook her head in thinly veiled annoyance. The Stark
matriarch grumbled before turning to him. “Her name is Lady Brienne. Were it not for her, your
arrival at Harrenhal would have been smelled before seen. The least you can do is call her by her
name.”

Jaime didn’t remember much from the initial three days after losing his hand, but he remembered
the wench’s eyes looking down at him with concern. He remembered her thick lips moving as
barely discernable words spilled forth. He remembered her gentle hands tending to him when he
could not care for himself. Apparently, that form of aid is where Catelyn drew the line.

“Do you really trust the fucking Boltons to keep her safe?” Raising his maimed arm as example,
Jaime glared at Catelyn as he continued speaking. “How can you even agree to her betrothal to a
Bolton? Even she deserves a husband who doesn’t enjoy limb removal as a pastime.”

Jaime found his anger mounting as he spoke.

How dare she agree to this nonsense. That bastard can’t handle a swordswench.

Catelyn rolled her eyes. “I’ve known Roose a long while. I trust him despite not trusting his men.
Lady Brienne is under his protection now. Besides, the match is up to her. It will not be forced.”

“Gods. You truly never learn. Of course, she’s being forced. Roose’s bastard needs a noblewoman,
and House Bolton gains sway in the Stormlands. She’ll agree to appease you. You’re just as bad as
honorable, dead Ned.” At Jaime’s words, Catelyn glared at him. Her face flushed a violent red as
she urged her horse forward and away from his.

Watching her retreat with narrowed eyes, Jaime’s mind returned to the wench.

Why should I worry after the stupid wench? Let her enjoy her Bolton bastard. I just need to get
back to Cersei and all will be right again.

At the thought of Cersei, Jaime hummed in discontent.

Would Cersei have cared for me as the wench did? Somehow, I can’t picture her wiping my ass
and tending to my fucking stump.

A presence at Jaime’s side cut through his thoughts. Turning his head left, Jaime observed the
strange little man that Roose sent along to tend to his healing stump.

Jaime didn’t like the look of the man. Something about his quiet nature and observant eyes
unnerved Jaime. It was as though Jaime was a foreign species being keenly studied.

“My lord. I see you and Lady Stark are not exactly fond of one another.”

Jaime snorted and looked forward at Catelyn’s retreating form. “That would be an
understatement.”

The man seemed to consider Jaime’s response and raised a brow at him. “Do you think that your
father will accept her proposed exchange?”

Jaime snorted and looked to the man. “My father is more apt to adorn her head beside her
husband’s outside the city gates.”

After the brief exchange, they rode silently for a couple of hours before stopping to tend to one of
the horses that was laboring. Jaime sat on a rock and rubbed at his healing stump. The wound was
still raw, and the cooler weather sent painful tingles through his arm.

“My lord. I should redress the wound while we’re waiting. I don’t know what the healer gave you,
but I have stronger medicines to aid the recovery process.”

Jaime eyed the man wearily. “I’m fine.”

Qyburn sighed and looked to Jaime. “Lord Bolton tasked me with ensuring your health upon return
to your father. I mean you no harm, my lord.”

“Why? What’s in it for you and Lord Bolton?” Jaime eyed the man suspiciously. He saw a flicker
of something in the man’s eyes that told him to press further.

“Nothing, my lord. While I was removed from the Citadel, I am a maester at heart. I seek only to
treat the infirmed.”

Jaime’s brows furrowed at the words. “What would see you removed from the Citadel then? It
would seem to me that treating the infirmed is what they aim to do.”

Qyburn huffed a laugh and looked across the hillside they had stopped on. “They disagreed with
my methods of learning. To truly heal, you need to study the effect of medicines and treatment on
the living. The Citadel only studies the remains of men to acquire wisdom. We disagreed on
methodology.”

So, he experimented on living men. I knew this man was not to be trusted. That hardly answers why
Roose would care. That Qyburn was removed from the Citadel is a warning in itself.

“Have you served Lord Bolton for long?”

The man hummed as he rifled through his pack, taking out different solutions in what Jaime
assumed another attempt to offer treatment.

“Long enough, my lord.”

Jaime tilted up his chin and appraised the man. “What do you know of Ramsay? Lord Bolton’s
bastard.”

Qyburn looked back in the direction Catelyn and leaned in conspiratorially. His voice was but a
whisper as a smile quirked at his lips. “He makes their House sigil look tame. He is friends with
Locke, and most would consider Locke kind in comparison. Ramsay is prone to all manner of
depravities.”

The words hung heavy in the air between them. Jaime glanced to Catelyn who sat unaware in the
distance. Trying to keep the panic from his voice, Jaime pressed Qyburn for more information.
“What manner of depravities?”

With a raised brow, the disgraced maester spoke quietly as he shook his head. “Rape. Torture.
Mutilations.”
Fear prickled at the nape of Jaime’s neck. Standing abruptly, he reached down and grabbed Qyburn
by the arm. “When does Lord Bolton leave for the Twins?”

At the sudden outburst, Qyburn reeled back slightly. “I’m not certain, my lord. Why?”

Without answering, Jaime strode quickly to Steelshanks who was standing with two of his men and
telling crass japes. To his right, one of the men fed the horse which had brought them to an abrupt
halt. The animal had come up lame and the men needed to bind the problematic foreleg.

“We need to turn back to Harrenhal.”

Steelshank snorted and shook his head. “I ain’t turnin’ back.”

At the man’s words, Jaime’s voice grew loud with anger. “We go back now! I’ve left something
behind.”

“What? Ya hand? I can all but guarantee it ain’t there. I am charged with takin’ ya to King’s
Landin’ and…”

Before he could finish, Jaime interrupted. The sudden presence of Catelyn at his side went
unnoticed as his eyes remained locked on Steelshanks.

“You will take me back at once, or I will tell my father that you cut off my hand…”

Steelshanks bristled and his face reddened in anger. “What! I ain’t do nothin’ to ya…”

“…or I can tell my father that you saved my life. Which do you prefer?”

Steelshanks gaped at Jaime. His mouth flapped briefly before it shut in obvious frustration.
“Fuckin’ hells! Alright men, we’re headin’ back so this one can get whatever the fuck he forgot.”

Catelyn looked at Jaime as though he had gone mad. As the men moved away, she leaned in and
spoke in an angry whisper. “What are you doing!? We are going to King’s Landing to exchange
you for my daughters! You swore that you would see it done.”

He wanted to throttle the woman. For the second time in a matter of days, she had unwittingly put
Brienne in harm’s way. “You don’t deserve that sworn sword of yours. We’re going back for her.”

Catelyn’s eyes went wide and she grabbed his arm. “I have a deal with Lord Bolton for…”

“Her torture and death. That is what you made a deal for. Do you even know a thing about Ramsay
other than the fact that he is Roose’s bastard?” Jaime looked to Catelyn for any indication that she
was aware of what the man was capable of. Her brows furrowed and she shook her head in denial.

With a false smile, Jaime tilted his head towards Qyburn. “Roose’s disgraced maester over there
tells me that Ramsay makes the Bolton sigil look tame. That he passes his days raping and
torturing.”

At his words, Catelyn blanched. Her voice came out a whisper. “No. That can’t be right. Roose
wouldn’t seek to legitimize a man like that.”

Jaime sneered at her. “A man like what? A man who embodies their sigil? A man who is friends
with Locke? Tell me Lady Stark, do you know Lord Bolton as well as you knew Lord Bolton’s
men? You didn’t think they would harm her either.”

Catelyn’s eyes went wide. Without awaiting her response, Jaime moved quickly to his horse as the
Bolton men finished packing their things. Looking back, he saw panic line Catelyn’s face as she
wordlessly moved atop her horse.

They made haste for Harrenhal, hoping to catch Lord Bolton at the castle or on the road north.
Given they had only ridden for a couple of hours before needing to stop, Jaime knew they would
arrive at Harrenhal just before sundown.

As they entered the courtyard, Jaime could hear raucous cheers and the rendition of a familiar
tune. The Bear and the Maiden Fair. Looking around wide-eyed, Jaime saw the crowd assembled
at the bear pit. The men cheered and sang as the sound of a bear’s growls rippled through the air.

Running up the stairs, Jaime pushed to the front of the crowd. Locke could be heard screaming
down at the pit “Fuckin’ shameful performance! Get in there and fight!”

Jaime felt Catelyn at his back, grabbing at his arm as she surged forward. At the sight before him,
Jaime felt his heart still. There in the middle of the bear pit was Brienne. The horrid pink dress was
in tatters and blood dripped down her left arm. Three large gashes, presumably from the bear’s
claw, adorned her left collarbone.

The wench waved a wooden training sword at the bear, more irritating the beast than harming it.
As Brienne darted left and right, Jaime felt his heart hammering in his throat.

She fought with everything she had as though it mattered. As though she stood a chance at beating
a bear with a piece of wood.

“A wooden sword!” Jaime screamed more at the scene before him than to anyone in particular.

Locke sneered at Jaime. “I thought ya’d gone!”

Jaime shoved a man out of the way to stand before Locke. “You gave her a wooden sword!” He
looked down his nose at the man with disdain writ across his face. Locke had a large bandage
hastily wrapped around his head and fresh blood lined the cloth.

Locke shrugged and turned back to the fight. “I’ve only got one bear.”

Catelyn moved quickly to Jaime’s side and screamed at the man. “Get her out of there, now!”

Locke’s eyes shifted from Jaime to Catelyn. He sniggered as his eyes darted back and forth
between them. “Fuck off. She’s mine. I can do with her as I please. I don’t have to put up with ya
shit anymore Lady Stark.”

“I’ll give you whatever you want. Gold? Lands? Just ger her out of there!” Jaime spoke in
desperation as Locke turned back to watch the fight.

“You want her? Go and get her!”

At the sound of the bear’s growl, Jaime’s attention turned back to the pit. The animal batted the
wooden sword from Brienne’s hands and knocked her to the ground. It stood on its hind legs,
towering over her. The wench stood frozen, staring up at the animal.

Without second thought, Jaime jumped into the pit. The only sound he could hear was Catelyn’s
scream behind him. “Gods damnit! Jaime you great dolt!”

As he landed in the pit, Jaime stood upright and looked to Brienne. Her eyes went wide at the sight
of him. “What are you doing!?”
“Something stupid. Get behind me.” Jaime grabbed Brienne and pushed her backwards, effectively
placing himself between her and the bear. He could hear Brienne hit the ground and Jaime
crouched low, ready to push Brienne in whatever direction necessary to keep her safe.

He didn’t have a plan nor a weapon. He only had an inexplicable drive to keep Brienne safe until
his last breath. As the bear came down on all fours and readied to charge them, an arrow flew from
the crowd, lodging into the bear’s neck.

The animal cried out in pain and Jaime looked up in shock to see Catelyn holding Steelshanks’
crossbow. The man yelled and grabbed the weapon from her hands. At the sight, Locke screamed
at Catelyn. “What the fuck are ya doin’ to my bear!”

Catelyn berated the man and pointed into the pit. “Lord Bolton and I had a deal, which apparently
he has seen fit to break! She comes with us!”

Locke moved to grab Lady Stark, but Steelshanks moved forward to block him. A strange look
crossed Steelshanks’ features that made Locke stand down.

Seizing the opportunity, Jaime ran to the wall of the pit and yelled to Brienne to climb up his back.
Brienne moved quickly towards him as Jaime yelled up to the men near the rails. “Pull her up!”

Using Jaime’s back to step up, Brienne reached out her hand to the men above. With the aid of
Steelshanks’ men, Brienne was pulled out of the pit.

Another arrow flew at the beast, temporarily stunning it. Steelshanks now held the crossbow in
hand and reloaded the weapon, giving Jaime the chance to get out before the bear charged.

Brienne turned around after ordering the men to hold her legs. She leaned down and extended her
hands toward Jaime. “Grab my hand!”

As quickly as he could with one hand, Jaime climbed the pit wall. The bear charged forward
quickly as it cried out in pain. The enraged animal was ready to lash out at anything in its path.
Dangling above the pit, Jaime hooked his maimed arm around a small wooden beam that jutted out
from the side of the pit.

As he swung slightly, Jaime used his momentum to propel himself upwards just enough to grab
Brienne’s arm. A second set of hands reached down and grabbed his arms. Catelyn.

The two women hoisted Jaime over with the aid of Steelshanks’ men. When realization hit Jaime
that they were out safely, he felt his heart begin to slow. Rolling to his back, Jaime looked up at
Locke. The man sneered down at Jaime and spoke through gritted teeth.

“The bitch stays.”

Standing slow and collecting himself, Jaime took a menacing step towards the man. “I’m taking
her to King’s Landing.”

“She belongs to me. Lord Bolton’s orders.”

“She belongs to no man. House Stark orders which far exceeds Lord Bolton’s.” Catelyn glared at
Locke from beside Jaime. Together they stood in front of Brienne who was at their backs, bleeding
and breathing heavily. Locke glanced towards the pit and his face reddened in anger.

Following Locke’s gaze, Jaime could see the bear dying on the ground. It was riddled with multiple
arrows and slowly succumbing to its injurie. Turning back towards Locke, Jaime saw the man’s
hand move to the hilt of his dagger.

Glancing over Jaime’s shoulder at Brienne, Locke’s lips curled in distaste. “That bitch bit off me
ear and cost me a bear! What payment do ya plan to offer me this time?”

A distressing thought crossed Jaime’s mind. Why the fuck was his face close enough to hers for
that to happen?

Jaime felt his body tense as rage began to course through his veins. “Her name is Brienne. Lady
Brienne of Tarth. A noblewoman and maid.” Glancing back to Brienne, Jaime searched her face.
“You are still a maid I hope.”

Brienne’s face flushed at the question and she nodded wordlessly. At the affirmation, Jaime’s body
relaxed. Jaime took a deep breath and his eyes flickered to Catelyn before he turned his attention to
Locke. He noted the deep relief on Catelyn’s face as well.

“I don’t give a fuck what ‘er name is. I’m owed payment.” At his back, Locke’s men took a
threatening step forward and mirrored his posturing.

“Your payment is your allowance to continue drawing breath.” Jaime glared at the man before him.
He wanted to throw Locke down into the pit and turn the crossbow at him.

Before Locke could unsheathe his dagger in response to Jaime’s words, Steelshanks hand was at
Locke’s. “Can’t let ya do that. We have our orders.”

From the corner of his eye, Jaime saw the half dozen men in Steelshanks’ escort reach for their
swords. It was a standoff between Roose’s men; each of the groups ready to fight for their leader.

Catelyn’s eyes were locked on the two Bolton men before her. She spoke commandingly at
Jaime’s side. “Lord Bolton is my House’s vassal. My son is King in the North. My word is final on
this matter. Lady Brienne comes with us. The only payment provided is the offer made to you by
Ser Jaime. Now stand down or be prepared to meet the North’s justice.”

With a huff of annoyance, Locke dropped his hand to his side. The men at his back followed his
lead and stood down.

Jaime smiled mockingly at Locke. “Well, best be on our way then. Sorry about the bear.”

Moving to leave, Jaime leaned in and whispered for Locke’s ears only. “If you ever think to touch
her again, I’ll throw you in a pit with a lion.”
 “The blade slipped”
Chapter Summary

After escaping the bear pit, Catelyn learns what Brienne knows. They need to escape.

Catelyn took Brienne by the arm and guided her towards the horses. Internally, she lambasted
herself for placing trust in the Boltons twice. Had it not been for Jaime, Brienne would have died
alone and frightened in a bear pit as Locke’s entertainment for the night.

“Gods, Brienne. Your collarbone. We’ll get you treatment once we’re away from this cursed
place.”

At Catelyn’s words, Brienne startled. Her eyes darted to Steelshanks’ men before looking uneasily
to Catelyn. “I… I need to make water we leave.”

The manner in which Brienne made the request seemed strange to Catelyn. Her brows knitted in
confusion as she eyed Brienne. When she observed the weary expression on Brienne’s face at the
sight of Steelshanks, Catelyn understood.

She needs to tell me something.

Clearing her throat, Catelyn looked to Steelshanks who was mounting his horse and looking to
them expectantly. “Give us a moment. Women’s business.”

The man’s face scrunched in irritation. “Go on then. Be quick about it.”

Catelyn guided Brienne away from the group. She glanced back and watched as Jaime’s eyes
followed them. Unease lined his face, and Catelyn understood it to be a desire to leave before
Locke found his courage.

The scene Catelyn had just witnessed baffled her.

First he lost his hand protecting Brienne from rape. Then he abandons his journey home to return
for Brienne. Then he jumps unarmed into a fucking bear pit to save her. He cares for her. He might
even… no. It can’t be. Can it?

As they moved into the Keep, Catelyn pulled Brienne into a side room. “What’s wrong? Have they
harmed you Brienne?”

Catelyn could tell by the look on Brienne’s face that the men had tried. Shaking her head, Brienne
swallowed thickly. “They mean to kill you on the journey south. Locke said as much after you
left.”

The words hit Catelyn like a punch to the gut. She stepped back and grabbed the wall for purchase.
“What?”

Brienne shook her head and kept her voice at a whisper. “He said that further south they would
‘dispose’ of you.”
Gods. No wonder Roose left Brienne behind. They mean to kill us both, but for some reason, they
hesitate to do so here. Why? Why the big charade. Unless…

“Seven hells. Roose must have made a deal with Tywin.” Catelyn’s voice was small and shaky.
She felt Brienne’s eyes on her, awaiting context.

“My children. None of them are safe. Not the girls. Not Robb.”

Gods. What do I do? What deal could Tywin have made with Roose? The North, I suppose.

“My lady. What would you have me do? Shall I ride north or south?” At Brienne’s words, Catelyn
looked up. Blood poured from Brienne’s collarbone and her tattered dress exposed the other
wounds adorning her body. The gashes at her collarbone were deep, pushing past layers of tissue
and nearly exposing the bone.

Robb has an army and, gods willing, time. My girls do not. They are alone in the capital,
surrounded by the enemy. I must get to them to safety and then I will return north. I’ll find a way to
write Robb from the road warning him not to trust Roose. To send him away on some fool’s errand.
How can I do so covertly in case the wrong eyes find the information?

“I think… we might need to trust the Kingslayer. I need to speak with him. Do you think we can
trust him, Brienne?” Catelyn searched Brienne’s eyes. She had little desire to trust the Kingslayer,
but she couldn’t fathom why he would save Brienne twice, only to have her killed on the road.
Either he didn’t know of the plans between Bolton and his father, or he didn’t support them.

Brienne’s reply came quick and resolute. “I know we can, my lady.”

I’ll take her word for it. Seven help us.

“Listen to me, Brienne. I will not see you risk your life for mine. If you have a chance to get away,
do so. The hour grows late, and they will want to make camp soon. I hope we can convince them to
stop at a nearby inn so that we can bar the doors and think on how to get away.”

Brienne’s eyes went wide at Catelyn’s words. “I won’t leave you, my lady. There are only six of
them.”

Catelyn huffed a small laugh.

Gods, this girl fears for nothing. She did fell four easily enough the other day. She felled three of
my own within a heartbeat. If Jaime can manage to fight at her side, they’re likely to see
Steelshanks’ men dead before we can pay an innkeep.

“Let me do the talking when we get out there. Just keep your eyes down and avoid Steelshanks and
his men. You have the most expressive eyes that I’ve ever seen. They’ll figure you out in no time.”

Brienne’s brows furrowed slightly, but the young woman nodded without protest. They moved
back into the courtyard and towards the awaiting party. Catelyn’s eyes scanned the men and she
saw the worry at Jaime’s face; his eyes trained on Brienne.

Approaching Steelshanks, Catelyn spoke commandingly. “Lady Brienne will need treatment
tonight. We need to stop at an inn where I can have a healer brought to her room.”

Steelshanks laughed haughtily and glanced at his men. “Ya think this is a fuckin’ holiday? I ain’t
stoppin’ at no inn. Qyburn can treat ‘er in the damn field. We ride as far as we can, and we make
camp wherever the fuck that may be. We’ve lost enough time as it is.”
Catelyn’s eyes flicked to Jaime. He was studying the two women; his brows knitted slightly and his
mouth ajar. Turning to Steelshanks, he spoke authoritatively. “Perhaps you didn’t hear your liege
lady. We stop at an inn. I need a proper bed for my back. The wench nearly broke it in the pit using
me as a stool.”

Steelshanks moved to protest, but Jaime waved his stump in the air. “Gods my fucking wrist hurts
too. I do hope that I don’t return to King’s Landing in such shit condition. My father will be most
displeased. I shudder to think what he may do to my inattentive escorts.”

“Fuckin’ hells. Ya pushin’ ya luck! The both of ya! One fuckin’ inn and then we camp the rest of
the way. I ain’t payin’ for no healer. Qyburns looks at the bitch.”

Catelyn huffed in annoyance and appraised the disgraced maester. He had a look on his face that
was difficult to read, but one thing was clear. She didn’t trust the man. Catelyn mounted the horse
that the men had brought for her and looked to Steelshanks as he gave the command for their party
to move out.

With a final look to Brienne, Catelyn could see the pain setting in. It was likely that the adrenaline
rush from the pit had worn off and the young woman was starting to suffer from her wounds. They
moved out from the rundown castle and headed south towards King’s Landing.

It wasn’t long before the sun’s setting rays stretched across the landscape. They rode east of the
God’s Eye and a distance from the Kingsroad. A small village came into view just to the south.
Catelyn slowed her horse to ride alongside Brienne.

The young woman was wincing but trying to appear unaffected by the injury. The tense set in
Brienne’s upper body gave away the immense pain she was in. Her eyes confirmed what Catelyn
observed.

Reaching the village, the group slowed the horses and moved towards the first inn they came
across. Steelshanks went inside to speak with the innkeeper and returned moments later looking
disgruntled.

“They’ve got two rooms left with four beds between ‘em. The ladies can take one of ‘em. Me and
the Kingslayer will take the other. I ain’t lettin’ the prisoner go unwatched. Qyburn, ya can treat
the bitch inside. We ride out at first light.”

The men grumbled at the implication that they would need to camp just outside the village.
Catelyn watched as they retreated to the outskirts of the village and tied off the horses.

Qyburn appraised Brienne’s wound and narrowed his eyes. “I’ll need to procure some additional
supplies to mend this. There is a small shop across the way that has what I’ll need. I’ll meet you
ladies in the room.”

As Steelshanks began to protest more coin being spent, Catelyn took the opportunity to grab Jaime
and pull him inside the inn. The innkeeper showed them to the available rooms, and Catelyn
dragged Jaime inside with Brienne at her back.

Jaime scoffed as Catelyn shoved him into the room. “Gods, Lady Stark. That eager to get me into
your bed? You should have said something earlier.”

Gods. Brienne better be right about him. I’m likely to kill him myself at this rate.

“Brienne, bar the door. Quickly.”

Jaime’s brows shot up as he chuckled in amusement. “Both of you then? Or is the wench to
watch?”

“Shut up. Steelshanks is to kill us on the trip south. Me and Brienne. I think Lord Bolton made a
deal with your father.”

At the words, any amusement on Jaime’s face fell. Glancing to Brienne, Jaime’s eyes moved back
to Catelyn. “Not so confident in your dear friend, Lord Bolton, I see? What makes you say that?”

“Locke told Brienne after we left that I was to be disposed of on the journey south.”

Jaime snorted and shook his head. “Well this makes my journey home far more tolerable. What of
it? You can’t possibly be asking your captive to save his captors.”

Catelyn raised a challenging brow at Jaime. “You trust these men? How do you know that they
won’t seek to ransom you to Tywin? Mayhap they’ll send more pieces of you to the Red Keep to
prove their point.”

Jaime considered the words and shrugged. “And the alternative is what? I risk my life for you two?
I think that I’ve done more than enough already. There are six of them and three of us. I seem to
have misplaced my sword hand. The wench looks worse off than her dress, which is saying a lot.
How many men will you kill, Lady Stark? Your tongue is sharp, but I’m not certain it is up to the
task.”

Catelyn moved forward quickly. “You swore an oath that you would accompany us to see the
exchange made for my daughters. You would still be sitting in a pen or worse were it not for me.
Yes or no. Will you aid us?”

A pounding at the door and the gruff voice of Steelshanks called out. “What the fuck ya doin’ in
there!? Open this up.”

Catelyn glanced at Brienne who stood by the door, unmoving and uncertain. With the nod of her
head, Catelyn indicated to Brienne that she should open the door.

Steelshanks moved quickly into the room after shoving Brienne out of the way. “I said two rooms!
Ya not stayin’ with ya whore and Lady Stark, Kingslayer. Out!”

Jaime scoffed and held the man’s stare. “Qyburn needs to pack my wound before I take rest. Do
you plan on aiding me then?”

“Ya can wait for ‘im in the other room where I can keep an eye on ya!” Steelshanks pointed a
short, stubby finger towards the door as his lips curled nastily.

“Trying to get me alone? I know that I’m very pretty, but you’re far from my type. You’re almost
as mannish as the wench. I’m certain you can fulfil your needs at a brothel in this shit village.”

Steelshanks glared at Jaime. “Qyburn will treat the bitch and then come next door to stuff ya
fuckin’ bandage with whatever it needs. Now get out.”

Hesitantly, Jaime glanced to Catelyn and Brienne before leaving the room. With the two men out
of sight, Catelyn felt her heart drop.

He won’t aid us. He is the enemy and has no reason to. We must flee tonight. How am I to get my
daughters back now?
Soon thereafter, Qyburn entered the room. Brienne eyed the man warily and Catelyn moved to
stand before her. “I’ll find her a healer on the morrow.”

Qyburn sighed and tilted his head slightly. “My lady, I only mean to aid Lady Brienne. I will do
her no harm.”

“Just as Lord Bolton promised to do her no harm? I think not. Why don’t you go tend to the
Kingslayer’s wounds? I do believe he is waiting next door.”

With a heavy sigh, Qyburn exited the room. Worry lined Catelyn’s face as she turned to Brienne.
The young woman needed treatment, but she did not trust Qyburn given what they knew of
Roose’s true intentions.

“Try to get some rest, Brienne. You are going to need it to recover and I fear that we’ll need to flee
before the sun comes up. You’ll need your strength. I will figure out what to do and wake you soon
enough.”

Brienne moved to protest, but Catelyn put a firm hand up. “I need you to be rested and strong to
protect us both. That wound will need proper treatment from a trustworthy healer. Now please, get
some rest. I will wake you at a more appropriate hour to take our leave. Gods help me, I don’t
know how we’ll get past half a dozen men at the outskirts of the city.”

Nodding in understanding, Brienne moved into one of two small beds. Catelyn could see the pain
etched on the young woman’s face as she rested on her right side. Her injured collarbone and arm
were exposed, reminding Catelyn of Brienne’s near death just hours earlier.

Catelyn spent the next hours considering various options ranging from heading south to heading
north. Without having Jaime as a hostage for exchange, there was little hope of securing her
daughters safely. Catelyn tapped the wooden table she sat at. The room was dark save for the
flicker of a small candle before her.

Staring at the flame, Catelyn saw the wind push it aggressively towards the window as the door to
the room swung open. Catelyn stood, preparing to confront Steelshanks or his men. She had not
anticipated an attack this night in the village.

From the bed, Brienne bolted upright, ready to confront whoever entered uninvited.

Looking at the intruder, Catelyn was shocked to see Jaime’s face. Blood covered the edges of his
tunic and flesh hand. A dagger at his side was slick with blood. At the sight, Catelyn’s eyes went
wide. He raised an innocent brow and spoke.

“What? The blade slipped.”

 “You have my word”
Chapter Summary

The trio leave the inn and acquire another traveling companion. They make camp for
the night and Brienne has her wounds treated.

Brienne watched as blood dripped from the dagger in Jaime’s hand. Shock coursed through her
body as she took in the sight of him.

He aided us again. Why? These men were taking him home. It is obvious that Roose has allied with
his father.

When Brienne told Catelyn earlier that she believed they could trust Jaime, she meant it. She
believed that they could share information of Roose’s true intentions, while trusting that Jaime
would not make Steelshanks aware of their knowledge.

That trust however did not translate into an expectation that Jaime would kill his new allies; even if
he was meant to be ignorant to that fact.

“Well, are you two just going to stand there gawking at me or are we going to leave?”

Jaime gestured towards the doorway and Brienne watched as Catelyn’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”

Jaime huffed in vexation at the continued delay. “The silks on the bed are shit. I can’t sleep
properly.”

“That isn’t what I meant. Those men were taking you home. Why are you aiding us?”

“Are you not taking me to the capital for a prisoner exchange? Truly, you two are the worst captors
ever. You’ve truly inconvenienced me.”

Brienne glanced at Catelyn and silently implored her.

Please. Trust him in this.

With a sigh, Catelyn nodded. “What of the other Bolton soldiers?”

Jaime snorted and threw out his arms. “You think I plan to fight them with one, untrained hand?
There are six of them.” Jaime leaned down towards the floor at the doorway and produced a
sword.

The blade was presumably Steelshanks’ sword, and Brienne glanced to Catelyn to assess her
reaction. The Stark matriarch stood in shock near the table she had been sitting at. Jaime handed
Brienne the sword and raised a brow. “Here. Do something wenchish with it. I’ll guard your back.”

Gods. I can’t believe Steelshanks took rest with an unchained ‘prisoner’ in the same room .

As if sensing her confusion, Jaime smirked. “I asked for some milk of the poppy from Qyburn.”
His eyes flickered to Catelyn. “I hear it helps one find the necessary rest to fight their way home. I
might have accidently spilled it in Steelshanks ale. I’m just so clumsy with my left hand.”

Brienne chuckled at the absurdity of the situation. Quickly covering her mouth in a combination of
embarrassment for what she believed to be unattractive smile and for fear of rousing other patrons,
Brienne saw Jaime’s eyes dart to her. A soft smile tugged at his lips before he cleared his throat.

Again, Jaime extended his arm in indicated that it was time to depart. Brienne concealed the sword
within the flowing folds of her ugly, tattered, pink dress.

Moving quickly down the stairs, Brienne noted that the sleepy inn held no movement nor prying
eyes. The hour was late, and Brienne thanked the Seven for it.

Stepping outside, Brienne eyed the outskirts of the village where the horses and men were camped.
She contemplated if it would be wiser to find other horses in the small village, rather than gamble
on an altercation with the rest of Bolton’s men.

Before she could offer the suggestion, Jaime’s hand was at her forearm. He leaned into her ear as
they stood with their backs pressed against the exterior wall of the inn. The unexpected touch sent
a strange flutter through her stomach.

“The man on watch is facing north. He doesn’t suspect a threat from the village. You’ll need to
move quietly, wench. No grunting when you lunge. It’s as telling as your grimace.”

Brienne’s brows knitted in irritation. “I do not grunt when I lunge.”

A smirk pulled up the corners of Jaime’s lips. “Yes, you do. Most unmaidenly of you.”

Brienne could feel a slight heat at the back of her neck. Shaking her head, Brienne looked back to
the noted lookout. The other five soldiers and Qyburn slept unaware around the fire. Trying to
ignore the strange reaction her body was having to Jaime’s proximity, Brienne moved away from
the wall and towards her target.

She crouched low and moved deftly, careful not to disrupt any fallen leaves or twigs. At her back,
Brienne could feel Jaime’s presence. The skirts of her tattered, pink dress swayed lightly in the
breeze, but it wasn’t long enough to reach the blades of grass reaching up from the ground.

Nearing her target, Brienne slowly held up the stolen sword. Lunging forward, she grabbed the
man’s mouth from behind and slit his throat. As the man slumped to the ground, Jaime used the
dagger he had taken from Steelshanks to slit the man’s throat who slept unaware to Brienne’s left.
With only four men left, Brienne felt a flicker of hope.

Before she could move to the next man, one of the soldier’s eyes flew open from across the
campfire and he called out.

Seven hells.

The men quickly stood and grabbed their weapons. Brienne made quick work of the next man as
he was only half standing by the time Brienne reached him. Her eyes darted to Jaime to ensure he
hadn’t been overrun given his missed dominant hand. Jaime’s left hand was awkward, and Brienne
assumed that he was still weak from the maiming.

Looking back to her target, Brienne made quick work of the next guard. Then Brienne heard a
commotion at her back. She turned to see Jaime on top of a guard, slicing across his throat with the
dagger. The last of Bolton’s men charged at Jaime with his sword held high.
Brienne felt her heart falter at the sight. She couldn’t get to Jaime in time, and Brienne could do
little more than scream his name. “Ser Jaime!” At the sound of her voice, Jaime looked up just in
time to fall backwards defensively. On instinct, Jaime put his arms up before his face.

Brienne saw the soldier fall to his knees. Standing to the soldier’s side and pushing a dagger into
the man’s neck, Qyburn came into view. The disgraced maester’s eyes were wide in shock as if
surprised by his own actions. He quickly let go of the blade as Jaime stabbed the man in the gut for
good measure.

With all guards dead on the ground, both Jaime and Brienne looked to Qyburn with uncertainty
writ across their faces. The man spoke in a shaky voice. “I said that I meant you no harm. I wish to
serve the crown, but not the Boltons.”

Brienne sighed and looked to Lady Catelyn who approached from the shadows, holding the reins
of three horses in hand. At the sight of the dead men and having heard Qyburn’s words, she sighed
and nodded in agreement.

“Fine. Hurry up about it.” In response to Catelyn’s curt words, the former maester ran to untie
another horse from the trees at the water’s edge. Catelyn inclined her head to Brienne as she
glanced to the fallen soldiers. “Lady Brienne, can you check them for any coin? We might have
need of it.”

Brienne did as she was told and found coin purses on three of the men. Once they took what they
needed and dragged the bodies closer to the water’s edge, the foursome set off south on horseback.
The cool night air kissed the open wound at Brienne’s collarbone and arm, sending a sharp pain
through her body.

They were just shy of a week out form King’s Landing, and Brienne worried at infection setting in
if she did not flush out the wound soon. They rode far enough to put ample distance between
themselves and the village. Once Bolton’s men were found dead by the stream or Steelshanks was
found dead in his room, soldiers would likely be called for investigation and a search.

They soon made camp to take brief rest before riding out at first light. Brienne appraised the
landscape around them. They had found a heavily wooded area which was well off the Kingsroad.
A small stream ran just to the west, and Brienne mused that it likely poured into the God’s Eye.

After camp was made, Qyburn approached Brienne near the wood’s edge as she gathered
firewood. “My lady, that wound must be tended to or infection will set in. Please, allow me.”

While she didn’t entirely trust Qyburn, Brienne conceded that he just as easily could have allowed
Jaime to be killed outside the village. It was evident the man wished to curry favor with the
Lannisters, but Brienne was not a Lannister. She was the Lannister’s enemy.

Glancing at the small campsite they had setup, Brienne saw Catelyn settling onto the ground to
find sleep as Jaime cleaned the stolen dagger. The flames of the fire cast long shadows behind
them.

“I know you wish to serve the crown, but I am the crown’s enemy. I am sworn to Lady Catelyn and
we are taking Ser Jaime to the capital for a prisoner exchange. Please forgive my hesitance to trust
you.”

Qyburn huffed a laugh. “It was Ser Jaime who sent me over here my lady. He made it quite clear
that if misstep in your treatment, the crown will take my head. More specifically, his blade would
find it.”
Brienne’s eyes darted back to Jaime who was still focused on cleaning the dagger. With a slight
nod of her head, Brienne gave Qyburn her consent. Qyburn guided her towards the campsite so that
he could see better in the firelight.

As Brienne sat on the forest floor, she watched the former maester rifle through his bag and
produce some poppy. Brienne refused the liquid and asked him to stitch her wounds without
medicine for the pain. “It dulls the senses. I need to be alert.”

Jaime huffed a laugh at her words, but he did not look up from the blade that he was studying more
intently. His next words were spoken with a heavy sarcasm. “Very diligent of you, wench. Very
responsible.”

Rolling her eyes, Brienne focused on the fire before her. The wound was deep, and a sharp pain
radiated throughout left side as Qyburn cleaned the wound before stitching it. Once her collarbone
was stitched, Qyburn studied the wound at her arm.

“My lady, this wound appears deep as well. I need you to remove the sleeve so that I can stitch it”
Qyburn spoke as he pulled at the tattered pieces of fabric hanging off the dress where the bear had
clawed at her arm.

Brienne felt a wave of self-consciousness course through her at the thought of stripping off the
sleeve of the dress. It would require pulling down one side of the dress and exposing more of her
unsightly body.

Refusing the offer, Brienne forced a smile and shook her head. “It’s fine. Thank you.”

Before Qyburn could protest, Jaime was marching across the campfire to kneel before her. “Let me
see. So gods damned stubborn.”

Jaime tugged at the torn fabric to better appraise the wound. His face scrunched as he noted the
depth of it “He has the right of it. It needs stitches. What the fuck is this…”

Rotating her arm slightly to better catch the firelight, Jaime’s brows knitted together. Then
realization shown in his eyes. Following Jaime’s eyeline, Brienne saw the rows of bruises from
Locke’s men.

Brienne had noticed them earlier at the inn. The bruises formed by rough hands were on her arms
and thighs. It was hardly surprising to Brienne given how easily she bruised. The men had pinned
her down with their body weight to ensure Locke could take her; or so they thought.

“It’s nothing.”

“This is not nothing! You have fucking fingerprints all over your arm. Where else are these
marks?”

Reaching up to the fabric near her collarbone, Jaime tugged down to see her upper arm. There were
marks there too and Brienne turned away from his scrutiny.

“I said, it’s nothing! I’m quite tired now, so I think it best that I rest.”

Brienne felt her frustration mounting. In truth, she was not that tired given she slept briefly at the
inn. She did not wish to revisit the ordeal from earlier that day. It was likely a memory that would
haunt her for some time.

'I bet you wished one of them could overpower, throw you down, tear off your clothes. Make you
feel what it’s like to be a woman .’

It was the one thing that Jaime said to her on the trip south that Brienne had not heard before. It
was the only thing that she did not agree with.

When her father gave up on finding Brienne a match, she feared that rape would be the only way
her maidenhead was taken. Brienne worried that she would be forcefully held down by a group of
jeering men, looking for some entertainment. Mocking her as they tore at her clothing. Making
bets as to whether she had a cock hidden away.

It almost happened again. Thank the gods I fought them off.

Brienne watched as rage filled Jaime’s face. “These are hand marks. Let me see your other arm.”

“What!? No. It’s just a little bruising, I just…”

“Locke’s men did this. Didn’t they?” Jaime stared at Brienne intently as he interrupted her
response. His fingers trailed over the marks and the strange flutter returned to Brienne’s core. A
frightening thought came to her mind. The last time she felt that way around a man was Renly.

As a slight blush spread across her face, Brienne stammered and pulled away. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters very much!” Jaime barked at Brienne and the volume of his voice shook Catelyn from
sleep. The Stark matriarch found little sleep of late as she watched over Jaime and Brienne on the
road to Harrenhal.

Even at the inn, Catelyn encouraged Brienne to sleep while she decided upon the action to take.
Sitting upright quickly, Catelyn appraised the group. “What’s going on!? What’s happened now?”

Turning to Qyburn, Jaime yelled to the man. “She needs cleaning and stitches! Now.”

The maester moved back to Brienne’s side and readied the cleaning solution. Jamie placed
Brienne’s left hand between his side and maimed arm to secure it in place as his flesh hand he tore
apart the sleeve of the dress.

“What are you doing!?” Brienne tried to pull her arm back, but Jaime held it firm in place.

With faux sincerity, Jaime tilted his head and met her eyes again. “Oh, my apologies. Were you
attached to this shit dress? It’s the only thing more ridiculous than that absurd armor that didn’t fit
you.”

Catelyn walked over to them and inquired again as to what was going on. Continuing to ignore her,
Jaime huffed in irritation and met Brienne’s eyes. “Where else, wench? Are you wounded
anywhere else? Tell me the truth of it now, did they touch you? Did they dishonor you?”

Without awaiting a response, Jaime moved to her other arm as Qyburn continued to work at the
wound on her left arm. The wound being tended to was deep, but not as poor off as the wound at
her collarbone.

Brienne imagined the wound at her arm would heal with nominal, if any, scarring. The wound at
her collarbone however was likely leave yet another mark. Another scar to add to her collection.

Not that it matters. No man shall ever be forced to look upon this malformed body covered in
scars. When the exchange is made, I’ll procure more clothing and armor to conceal this ugliness.
Suddenly, Brienne felt her right arm being tugged hard. Jaime was again pinning her hand between
his body and maimed arm as his left-hand tore at the sleeve of the dress.

Tugging her arm as hard as she could, Brienne noted with frustration how strong Jaime was. Her
hand didn’t budge, nor did Jaime. He examined her other arm with equal fervor as he had the left.
Anger flooded his features as he looked over his shoulder at Catelyn. “They touched her. She has
fucking marks all over.

Catelyn moved quickly to Jaime’s side and studied the marks on Brienne’s arm. With a deep sigh,
Catelyn spoke softly to Jaime. “Please, just give us a moment.”

With an irritated sigh, Jaime moved back to his place before the fire. His jaw clenched as he briefly
glanced back at Brienne. Qyburn soon finished the stitching at her left arm and put his supplies
back in his bag. As the man moved away, Brienne’s eyes shifted to Catelyn.

Brienne could see the concern on the woman’s face as her eyes appraised the bruises. She spoke in
hushed tones for Brienne’s ears only. “Truly Brienne, did they rape you? I won’t tell anyone, but I
can assure you that wounds from such atrocities do not heal as easily as the one at your arm. You
can talk to me about this.”

Shaking her head, Brienne took a deep breath. “No, but they tried. They were nearly successful.”

Catelyn nodded in understanding. “Whenever you like, you can talk to me about it. I imagine your
arms are not the only map of handprints adorning your body?”

Shaking her head in denial, Brienne looked to the forest floor. “My… thighs.”

Catelyn placed a warm hand on Brienne’s shoulder and spoke comfortingly. “I should never have
left you there. I swear to you, I had no reason to believe Lord Bolton’s words false. I would never
have left you otherwise. I’m so sorry for this.”

“It’s fine, my lady. It is hardly the first attempt and I doubt it will be the last. I’ve always made my
assailant pay for the attempt though; I can assure you that.”

Catelyn huffed a small laugh and squeezed Brienne’s right shoulder. “Good girl. I expect no less.
You have my word that I will never again place you in such a position of defense.”

Before moving back to her spot on the forest floor, Catelyn placed a motherly kiss on the top of
Brienne’s head. It was an unexpected form of touch that Brienne had never known before.

No one had ever kissed Brienne. Neither a soothing kiss from a parent nor a romantic kiss from a
man. Brienne had expected to die before ever experiencing such a gesture. Most touch that
Brienne previously experienced was violent in nature or the methodical work of a maester’s hands
as they treated an injury.

When Brienne was alone again, she shrunk in on herself. Without her armor, Brienne felt more
exposed than ever. She stretched out on the forest floor to try and find sleep. As her body settled,
Brienne desperately searched for any memory of her mother. None came.

Did she kiss my head like that? Would she have if she didn’t die, or was I little more than a
disappointment to her?

When Brienne soon found sleep, it was not pleasant. She was back in the room at Harrenhal
surrounded by Locke’s men. They held her down in a similar scene to the one she escaped from. In
her dream, she could not stop them.
A firm hand at her shoulder shook Brienne from sleep. She was back on the forest floor, covered in
a light sweat and gasping for air. Turning slightly, she peered up into a set of green eyes.

“You were having a nightmare. Your thrashing about and whimpering disturbed my sleep, wench.
Far more disruptive than that shit bed at the inn.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll be quiet now.” Brienne rolled back to her side, but she was surprised when Jaime
didn’t retreat to his spot by the fire.

His voice was small at her back. “They’ll never touch you again. You have my word.”
 “You do have astonishing eyes”
Chapter Summary

Jaime continues to experience growing confusion over his feelings towards Brienne. In
a conversation with Catelyn, he says some regrettable things.

Chapter Notes

Some slightly NSFW at the beginning

The bath was warm and the steam thick. Jaime leaned forward in the tub and squinted; a poor
attempt to see through the mist. The outline of a woman came into view. Her tall, lean body was
damp from the heat and water. A pair of stunning blue eyes cut through the steam rising off the
bathwater.

Jaime felt his cock harden immediately and his breathing labored. As the woman came into view,
Jaime pulled her onto his lap. His hands ran over her body and clutched at her meager breasts.
Jaime tilted his chin up to study her thick lips and freckled face.

Grabbing her jaw, Jaime pulled her head to meet his lips. “Brienne.”

Jaime awoke with a start the same way he fell asleep. Staring at the wench’s back. He realized with
horror that his cock was hard and wanting as the dream lingered at the forefront of his mind.

Rolling slightly, Jaime appraised the rest of the group and found them still asleep. The first rays of
light had not yet touched their sleepy camp, but judging by the retreating darkness in the sky to the
east, Jaime knew dawn was soon to come.

Looking back to the wench, Jaime felt his cock twitch as though a mocking reminder of his
situation. Squeezing his eyes shut, Jaime tried to will away the desire, but his body was relentless
in its call for release.

Standing slowly from his spot near the dwindling campfire, Jaime quietly made his way into the
wooded area. Ahead on the left, Jaime came to a large boulder near the small stream running
through the area. He moved behind it and fumbled with the ties of his breeches. Taking himself in
hand, Jaime sighed at the contact.

It was the first time he pleasured himself since losing his dominant hand gone. The movements
were clumsy, and Jaime grew frustrated. He cursed under his breath and whimpered slightly.

Conjuring Cersei’s image, Jaime tried to let his imagination do most of the work. He leaned his
head back against the boulder and slowed his jerking movements with his unpracticed hand.

With his eyes squeezed shut, Jaime’s mind wandered. Cersei’s back was to him; her long golden
hair blowing in the breeze. Her back was just exposed at the neckline of the green dress she was
wearing. Spinning Cersei around, Jaime stared into a set of sapphire pools.

Appraising the rest of her, Jaime realized it was the wench’s face he saw. The dress now blue, it
highlighted her eyes. His hand kept its rhythmic movement as Jaime’s climax neared.

Before he spilled, Jaime halted his efforts and reprimand his body.

What the fuck is wrong with me? Focus on Cersei. She is all that matters.

Again trying to force the image of Cersei to his mind, Jaime grew frustrated at the insistent pair of
blue eyes, freckled skin, and long legs clouding his vision. Allowing his mind to replace Cersei’s
face with Brienne’s, Jaime gave in to his body’s preferred stimulus and felt the telltale signs of
imminent release.

With a slight grunt, Jaime spilled onto the forest floor. A slight panic set in when Jaime realized
what he had done. For the first time in his life, Jaime had pleasured himself to the image of
someone other than Cersei. Even more unsettling was that it was the wench his body craved.

Oh no. No. No. No. What is wrong with me?

As if the emotional infidelity to Cersei wasn’t enough guilt to consume him, a second realization
hit Jaime. This one far more powerful than the first.

Fuck. I just took myself in hand to the image of the very woman who struggled to find a peaceful
sleep last night on account of her near rape.

The night prior, Jaime tossed and turned after his group drifted off to sleep with relative ease. His
mind was awash with memories of his inability to protect Rhaella from rape at the hands of Aerys.
The thought of the wench nearly suffering a similar abuse weighed heavily.

How many men held her down? Did they violate her even if they didn’t rape her? Did they mock
her as cruelly as I had?

It wasn’t long before Jaime had heard Brienne’s cries in sleep and noted her thrashing about. After
waking her up and playing at annoyance, Jaime remained at her back for some time. He wanted to
ensure she felt safe. He wanted to ensure that she could find sleep without forfeiting and sitting
alone by the fire.

Jaime knew all too well how lonely nightmares could be. He would often awake in a sweat from
memories of Aerys burning men alive in the throne room. On such nights, he rarely found sleep
again, and Jaime wished there had been someone there to soothe his distress.

When Brienne’s breathing eventually fell into rhythm and Jaime confirmed she was asleep, he
moved back slightly, but not to his original spot. Instead, he remained close and watched her back
rise and fall. Jaime worried that Locke and his men would return to haunt her dreams.

The more reckless side of Jaime wanted to return to Harrenhal and kill them all. The more sensible
side of Jaime plotted as to how he would see to the men’s demise from the capital.

Now Jaime stood in the woods, leaning against a boulder as his breathing slowed. Shame and guilt
gnawed at him and he berated himself.

Shoving his softening cock back into his breeches, Jaime struggled to lace them. When at last he
was decent, Jaime made his way back to camp. Catelyn was stoking the fire with a large stick from
the pile of kindling they had collected the night prior.
Her eyes narrowed at his approach. “I thought perhaps you had left.”

Sitting down dramatically, Jaime rolled his eyes. “And leave you wanting? Gods, you would have
been devastated.”

With a grunt of distaste, Catelyn continued stoking the flames. She turned to him and studied his
face closely, leaning in slightly. “Gods. Why are you all sweaty and flushed?

Jaime thanked the Seven for the cloak of darkness that concealed his reddening neck. Jaime huffed
in irritation and snapped his head to her.

“I had a horrible dream that I was traipsing through the Riverlands with a pair of insufferable
women. Unfortunately, this is a nightmare from which I cannot seem to wake. Quick… bash me
across the face with another rock, Lady Stark. Either I’ll wake whole and in my bed at King’s
Landing, or you’ll end my miserable life for good.”

Catelyn huffed in annoyance and looked back to the flames. Her eyes darted to Brienne who was
still curled on her side. Jaime could sense a question forming at the tip of Catelyn’s tongue.

Gods. Now what? As if this morning hasn’t been unpleasant enough.

“I doubt the silks at this campsite are more agreeable than those at the inn. Tell me truly. Why did
you aid us?”

Jaime sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “What difference does it make? You’re on your
way south to secure your delightful daughters. What are their names? Arse and what? No wait,
that’s not it… Arsa and Sanya?”

The stick in Catelyn’s hands came swinging hard at his shin. Jaime flinched at the contact rubbed
his leg before looking to Catleyn. The woman offered little more than a pointed glare before
speaking.

“Brienne doesn’t know you as I do. She’s a kind, innocent girl. I know the man you truly are. The
man who killed his king. Who put babes on his own sister. Who pushed my son from a tower
window. You never answered me at Robb’s camp. Why did you push Bran? Why an innocent
child?”

Jaime remembered the conversation she referenced. It ended with a rock smashed across his temple
and Catelyn storming out of the pen that he was held in. Jaime hated himself for the act, but he
couldn’t change it nor would he. It would have meant the death of Cersei and her children.

Her children. Never his. Jaime was never allowed to be anything other than seed. Of course, Jaime
would have died too, but he hardly cared about that. All Jaime cared about was protecting the ones
he loved. He had already sacrificed his honor to save a city. Why not sacrifice his soul to save his
lover and kin.

“You really want to hear of the events that led to my shoving your child from a window? Are you
that much of a glutton for punishment, Lady Stark? Mayhap you’re more like me than you care to
admit.”

Catelyn spoke through gritted teeth as she kept her eyes fixed on him. “You pushed my sweet,
innocent boy from a tower window. Tell me why you did it. I’ve the right to know.”

The fleeting image of Bran’s horrified expression when Jaime’s hand pushed him backwards
rushed to the surface. With a sigh, Jaime looked to the flames. He was not a coward, but in this act,
he lacked courage to see its consequences.

“He saw us. Me and Cersei.”

Catelyn sucked in a sharp breath at his side. A heavy silence hung over them as Jaime kept his eyes
fixed on the campfire. The subtle crackling of the flames and stray sparks that reached for the sky
above were all Jaime could hear and see.

“You were a guest in my home. I don’t care if your actions were intended to save your own kin.
You destroyed mine. I cannot forgive you for it.”

Nor can I forgive myself.

As Jaime’s self-loathing consumed him, bitterness crept in. The contempt-filled shouts of every
living soul in Westeros rang clear in his ears.

Kinglsayer. Oathbreaker. Man without honor.

When he finally turned to meet Catelyn’s eyes, Jaime’s tone was filled with a cruel bite.

“Pity that. Here I thought we would ride off into the sunset together. You, me, and the ugly wench.
Mayhap Locke could have risen to the challenge had it been someone more feminine in that dress;
mayhap Ser Gregor.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Jaime regretted it. He felt his soul slipping deeper into the
Seven Hells. Catelyn’s eyes went wide and darted to Brienne. In response, Jaime felt his heart
falter as he quickly turned his head towards Brienne.

The sight of her crestfallen face was the only indication that she heard Jaime’s words. Standing
from her place on the forest floor, Brienne forced a smile at Catelyn and feigned ignorance to
Jaime’s remark. “My lady, I’ll ready the horses.”

Fuck. Why did I say that? My quarrel wasn’t even with the wench.

“Wench, wait. I’m sorry.” Jaime stood from his seated position, but Catelyn blocked his path.

“Stay away from her. She’s endured enough without having to contend with a nasty, despicable
creature such as yourself.”

Jaime watched as Catelyn walked after Brienne. Even from a distance, he could see the wench play
at indifference, but her eyes betrayed the hurt she felt.

Shortly thereafter, they left camp and continued southeast towards King’s Landing. Jaime rode
beside Qyburn as the women led the way, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the wench. They took
few breaks and it was apparent that both women were avoiding him.

When at last they made camp for the night, Jaime waited for Catelyn to move away before
approaching Brienne. The Stark matriarch walked a distance into the woods, presumably to make
water. As he approached Brienne, Jaime saw her shoulders tense at his presence.

She sat before the fire with her knees drawn to her chest and her arms clutching at her legs. The
position made her look smaller and less confident.

“Wench. You and Lady Stark left me alone with Qyburn all day. There is only so much
conversation about picking apart corpses that I can take.”
At his words, Brienne’s eyes narrowed slightly. She offered no response as Jaime sat closely beside
her. For reasons he couldn’t being to understand, Jamie felt nervous. He brushed it off as remorse
for his verbal diarrhea earlier and tried to get to his point before Catelyn returned.

“About earlier, I apologize for what I said about you.”

Brienne played at ignorance and shrugged slightly. “I hardly know what you’re on about.”

With a sigh, Jaime ran a hand over his face. “I know that you heard what I said and it was
unworthy. I hardly know why I said it.”

When Brienne did not move to respond, Jaime swallowed thickly and looked to his feet. He played
nervously with loose threads jutting out from the sleeve covering his maimed arm.

“Perhaps a blue dress would do you proper justice. It would go well with your eyes.”

She does have astonishing eyes. Quite possibly the prettiest that I’ve ever seen.

Jaime felt his heart hammering in his chest. He had never attempted to genuinely compliment a
woman before who wasn’t Cersei. The attempt felt bumbling and he only hoped the wench didn’t
think the words a jape.

Glancing to Brienne, Jaime saw her face darken. “You needn’t apologize for spoken truths. My
septa ensured my understanding that any compliments from a man are lies. That my truth is in the
mirror. I know what I look like. I hardly require you to apologize for having noted it.”

Jaime felt shock at the words. His jaw slackened as he continued staring at her.

What kind of septa would tell her such a thing? Gods, I can’t imagine what other nonsense the
woman filled her head with.

At the sound of footsteps approaching from the woods, Jaime knew he had only a moment before
Catelyn urged him away. Lowering his voice for Brienne’s ears only, Jaime leaned.

“Your septa sounds like a proper cunt. I may be many things, but in this I am no liar. I meant what
I said. You do have astonishing eyes.”
 "As unsatisfying as Northmen"
Chapter Summary

Catelyn gets word to Robb and has an interesting conversation with Jaime and
Brienne.

“You expect me to ask Qyburn to send word against my House? Have you gone mad, Lady Stark?
How can you even trust a ‘despicable creature’ such as me with this delicate matter?”

Jaime raised a challenging brow as he spoke mockingly. Feeling her patience running thin, Catelyn
tried a different approach.

“This missive regards a Northern matter; not your House. If the request comes from you, Qyburn
will honor it. If it comes from me, he is more apt to destroy it. I’m no fool. He seeks to serve your
father, and my House is the enemy.”

At the words, Jaime snorted and snatched the missive. He tapped Catelyn on the forehead with it as
he spoke.

“According to the wench and Qyburn, House Bolton now serves the crown. I do believe that
makes this a Northern and Western matter. I would hate for my allies to find themselves in an
unfortunate situation.”

Fine. I’ll take a different approach. A straight shot to your heart, you fool. You don’t think I see it.

Snatching the missive back from his hand, Catelyn played at disappointment. She grumbled more
to herself than Jaime. “Is that you admitting that the crown belongs to House Lannister? I thought
the king a Baratheon. Regardless, I knew this was not a matter that I could seek your aid in. I
shouldn’t have listened to her.”

The comment hit its mark. “What? Her?”

Catelyn moved back towards the horses where Qyburn and Brienne awaited the orders. Moments
earlier, Jaime had instructed Qyburn to ride ahead to the next village and procure his requested
items.

Having learned from the experience of sending Brienne into a village, Catelyn and Jaime knew it
was too dangerous for the young woman to go. As for their own faces, they were too recognizable.

Pausing while still out of earshot from Brienne and Qyburn, Catelyn glanced over her shoulder.
“Lady Brienne. I don’t see another ‘her’ traveling with us. Do you? Mayhap you’re the one who
has gone mad.”

Renewing her march towards the horses, Jaime grabbed Catelyn’s arm. “What are you on about?
What did Brienne say?”

Catelyn bit back a laugh threatening to escape. At first, the entire idea seemed absurd. Had Jaime
been any other man and Brienne any other woman, Catelyn wouldn’t have questioned it. Try as she
might to ignore the instinct, it could no longer be avoided. Jaime was smitten with Brienne.
Once Catelyn put the string of events together and accepted the situation for what it was, the signs
became clearer. The night following their escape from Steelshanks’ men, Catelyn saw Jaime
speaking to Brienne.

Her initial instinct was to scold the man after his cruel words earlier, but then she saw Jaime’s face.
Remorse.

While she couldn’t hear the words spoken, she did observe them both blush at whatever he said.
The sight caught Catelyn by surprise. She didn’t think Jaime Lannister capable of fancying anyone
who wasn’t Cersei.

Catelyn watched them closely over the next day and things became even more obvious. Jaime was
always staring at Brienne longingly when he thought no one was looking. When they made camp
the night prior, Jaime slept close to Brienne and awoke even closer.

Thinking back on it, Catelyn realized that Jaime had been doing that for days now. And then there
was the most obvious, yet simultaneously childish sign. The teasing.

At the start of their journey, Jaime’s words were cruel. Catelyn knew his words were meant to
infuriate Brienne and drive her to make a mistake. Since they were captured by Locke’s men,
Jaime’s tone and intention shifted.

His words lacked bite and became teasing, much like that of a young boy with his first crush.
Rather than admit to it, he feigned at distaste. His word never matched his eyes and action though.

When Jaime wasn’t teasing Brienne, he was driving her mad. Jaime seemed to enjoy getting a rise
out of Brienne, and overall, his effort worked. Turning around to face Jaime, Catelyn feigned
indifference.

“Oh, it’s nothing. Lady Brienne just thought you an honorable man that wouldn’t support such
treachery. She thought you disliked the Boltons more than my House. It matters not. I’m certain
that having Lord Bolton play at Warden of the North will be more trustworthy than House Stark.”

Jaime huffed in irritation. “I dislike you all equally! What does the missive say? I won’t send a
letter that I don’t know the contents of. I won’t allow you to speak treasonously against the crown.”

Hope sprung in Catelyn’s core as she handed the missive to Jaime. “Go on then. Read it. I’ve not
yet sealed it.”

Jaime’s brows furrowed slightly, and he opened the letter while not taking his eyes of Catelyn.
“You should never allow an enemy to read your missives.”

Loathe as she was to admit it, Catelyn could no longer categorize Jaime as an enemy. He had saved
them from death and Brienne from rape. Concurrently, Catelyn could not categorize Jaime as an
ally. He pushed her son out of a window and his incestuous relationship with Cersei was the reason
everything had dissolved into madness.

Catelyn didn’t know what to make of Jaime, but one thing was certain. Jaime was more honorable
than she gave him credit for. His care for Brienne demonstrated that much and Catelyn could tell
that something haunted him.

When Jaime told her of the truth behind his pushing Bran, Catelyn took pause. She couldn’t forgive
his actions. She couldn’t accept his reason. She did however understand it. If Robert found out
what the Lannister twins had done, they would all be executed; including the children.
It made Catleyn question everything else that she knew of the man before her. A glimmer of the
young boy she met at Riverrun emerged, and Catelyn wondered at why he killed Aerys. Catelyn
pondered if Ned had asked Jaime why he committed the act.

Surely Ned would have, and likely found Jaime’s motive self-serving. Why else would Ned deem
him an Oathbreaker and man without honor?

Catelyn watched as Jaime’s eyes scanned the missive. The contents lacked any information
surrounding the Lannisters. Catelyn recalled the letter she wrote to Lord Manderly earlier that day.

Lord Manderly,

I am in desperate need of your aid. House Bolton moves in secret against my son, your king. I don’t
know what he is planning or when he will act, but I ask that you send some men to the Twins and
deliver word of my warning.

King Robb should not trust Lord Bolton. He should send Lord Bolton on a mission to the North
until I can return with my daughters to offer council. No one must know of this.

Please do this and my family will forever be in your debt.

Lady Catelyn Stark

As Jaime tried to fold the missive back up with one hand, Catelyn gave additional context. “By
boat, House Manderly should reach the Twins before Lord Bolton. I will treat this as a Northern
matter. No word of your father’s involvement will reach my son’s bannermen. You have my
word.”

Jaime sighed after handing back the letter. He ran a hand through his long, unkempt hair and
looked back towards Brienne and Qyburn.

“Seems a bit drastic. I doubt Lord Bolton will do anything until the next battle.”

Catelyn offered a conciliatory nod. “From what I’ve experienced these past weeks, I have no
intentions of placing explicit trust in any of the vassals on or off the battlefield.”

Jaime nodded and grabbed the letter in annoyance. “Well… do you have a seal for this shit?”

A small smile tugged at Catelyn’s lips. Lifting her hand to indicate the House Stark sigil adorning
her ring, Catelyn nodded, and they moved to the horses to check the satchels for a candle. As
expected, one of the men’s pack contained a candle and seal of House Bolton.

Gods. They were likely to send Roose word of my murder when the act done.

They lit the candle and poured hot wax onto the missive. After sealing it, Jaime handed the missive
to Qyburn and gave him instruction.

“This must be sent to White Harbor when you reach the village. Make certain you see that raven
fly out. This must not be tampered with.”

The disgraced maester nodded in understanding and placed the missive in his robes. They rode
towards the next town and made camp just outside and concealed from view. Catelyn took a seat
beside Brienne and smiled warmly.

The young woman’s wounds were already looking much better after only two days of healing.
Qyburn had done right by the girl, and Catelyn mused that Brienne would escape with only scars
rather than a horrid infection that threatened her life.

“Just a few more days and I’ll have my girls back. With any luck, Lord Manderly will beat lord
Bolton to the Twins. The Gods smile upon us, Lady Brienne.”

The young woman offered a small, but genuine smile. Brienne was quiet girl and Catelyn
wondered if she had anyone to talk to while growing up on Tarth. Given what little Catelyn new of
the young woman, she imagined not.

“Tell me of Tarth, Brienne. I’ve never been. We Starks don’t fare well in the south. Ned preferred
to avoid such adventures.”

Brienne’s eyes sparkled at the question. “It’s quite nice, my lady. The weather is agreeable and
despite being in the Stormlands, we see a good deal of sunshine.”

Jaime snorted from across the small campsite. “Well apparently your skin doesn’t find the sunshine
agreeable. I could draw a map of the constellations on your freckled face.”

By the Gods. I would hate to see this man attempt to court someone. What a catastrophe.

An amusing thought came to Catelyn and she smiled inwardly.

Time to turn the tables on this dolt.

“I quite like Lady Brienne’s freckles. They tell a story of hard work outside. Most noblewomen of
the south are dull, courtly creatures. In the North, we appreciate a woman not afraid to roll up her
sleeves. Our men love a woman with some fight in her. I think the men of the North would fancy
you, Lady Brienne. It’s a shame that my son is married, or I believe you two would make a fine
match.”

Catelyn meant it. Brienne was everything that Catelyn would hope for in a gooddaughter. Dutiful,
loyal, kind, brave, honorable, and moral. While Catelyn had initially thought Brienne’s appearance
would keep her from making a match not born out of force or political need, it pleased Catelyn to
observe Jaime’s growing infatuation.

If Jaime Lannister can fall for Brienne, so too could another.

On cue, Brienne’s face flushed a deep crimson. Catelyn was pleased at how reliable the young
woman’s response to any form of flattery was. It would serve its purpose in this conversation.

Jaime’s eyes went wide as he appraised Brienne’s reaction. He scoffed and crossed his arms
defensively. “Robb and the wench!? How absurd.”

“Why is that absurd?”

“Do the men of the North fancy their women in men’s attire and scowling all the time?” As Jaime
spoke his eyes darted back to Brienne.

The young woman’s head fell slightly as she awaited the jape to come. Jaime tripped over his
words as he stared at her. “They don’t… Northerners don’t deserve southern wives.”
Catelyn observed Brienne’s brows knit in confusion.

She had expected an insult. She has no idea how taken with her this fool is. I want his insufferable
ass to expose himself. I want Brienne to realize that all his words to her were spoken out of his ass,
not from his heart.

“I’m from the Riverlands, yet Ned married and appreciated me. Do you forget where the
Riverlands are? I seem to recall them abutting the West… south of the Neck. Mayhap I’ve ‘gone
mad’ though.”

Jaime was incredulous at the words. “That’s not the same. She’s from Tarth. Much more like
Casterly Rock than the Riverlands. The wench and I are proper southerners. You are not.”

“Ah, I see. The Riverlands are too northern for your taste. You prefer that Lady Brienne marry a
proper southerner. Someone such as yourself.”

“Exactly. The North can’t appreciate her.” Jaime spoke hastily before realizing his words. His ears
flushed slightly as he tried to backtrack. “I mean… I hardly care who the wench marries. That’s not
the point.”

Catelyn played at misunderstanding; her eyes darting to Jaime. “I’m sorry, but what is your point
exactly?”

Jaime struggled to find words. It was the first time that Catelyn had seen him flustered and it was
endlessly amusing.

“The point is that the wench doesn’t need some brooding Northerner ruining her life. Even the
landscape is horrid. So gods damned dreary. Southerners are built for the sun.”

“I don’t understand. I thought you said that the sun didn’t agree with her?” Catelyn feigned
confusion as her eyes glanced between Jaime and Brienne.

“I didn’t say that! What are you talking about?”

“I’m sorry, but this is very confusing. You do or you don’t find that the sun agrees with Lady
Brienne?”

“Of course, it does!” Jaime’s impulsive reaction was expected. He was quick to act or speak
without thinking. Once he said the words, he immediately back peddled. “If… if someone likes
that type of thing.”

Catelyn threw her head back in mock understanding. “Ah… Yes. Thank you. Now it’s all very
clear.”

Jaime stood up in a huff and stormed off into the woods, pretending at looking for drinking water.
Biting back a victorious smile, Catelyn looked to Brienne. The young woman’s face was twisted in
shock and confusion.

“Brienne, let me impart some motherly wisdom on you. Men speak all manner of nonsense.
They will tell you things, true or false, to realize their objective.”

Brienne’s eyes went wide and she nodded. “Yes, my lady. My septa told me as much.”

“She did?” Catelyn was caught off-guard by the words. She thanked the Seven that at least Brienne
had a septa to look after her.
Nodding eagerly, Brienne shifted to face Lady Catelyn. “Yes. She told me that men would
compliment me as was expected of them. She told me that any compliments are lies. My truth is in
the mirror.”

Brienne smiled victoriously as though receiving confirmation of a long-held understanding with no

one to substantiate it.

Oh Gods. This child has been truly abused emotionally.

Shaking her head, Catelyn grabbed Brienne’s hand. “Gods, child. No! That is horrible. What an
awful woman to say that! What I mean, is that men use words to get what they want. If you want
the truth, you need not look at yourself. Look at the man’s actions.”

Brienne’s brows furrowed slightly at the words. Taking a deep breath, Catelyn realized that she
had to give example. “Has anyone ever spoken to you as though they were interested in your
hand?”

Catelyn watched as Brienne’s face fell. She nodded in affirmation. “Yes, my lady. A bet was made
on my maidenhead by the men at Renly’s camp. They were kind to me in effort to win me over, but
I realized the game soon enough.”

With a sigh, Catelyn squeezed Brienne’s hand. “You see my point child. Words are weapons. They
can be used to cut you or bend you to the speaker’s will. Actions ring true. Since we set out on this
journey, that great dolt who just stomped off like a child has spoken cruelly to you.”

Shaking her head, Catelyn met Brienne’s eyes. “Look at his actions though. He stopped those men
from raping you. He abandoned his journey home to return for you. He jumped into a bear pit
unarmed to save you. Those actions conflict with what he says. He will never admit it, but he…
cares for you.”

Catelyn could not bring herself to share her true opinion of just how taken Jaime was with Brienne.
She wanted the best for Brienne, and Jaime Lannister was not it.

“You’ve been treated cruelly by others, but I do believe there is someone for you. Your septa was
only half correct. Words can only get you so far. Actions need to back them. I meant everything
that I said earlier. I am happy to help you find a good match only if that is what you want. It
doesn’t need to be now, but whenever you are ready. Any man would be fortunate to have you.”

Later when Qyburn returned, the man gave Jaime all the requested items. Bread, blankets, clothing
and more salve for their healing wounds.

Gods. Leave it to Jaime Lannister to require new attire for his return. What a princess.

Before they moved out, Catelyn packed the satchels that were draped over the horses. The blankets
had been a much welcome sight. The nights were cool, and it was difficult to stay warm enough.
As Qyburn spoke to Catelyn about the application of salve for Brienne’s wound, something caught
Catelyn’s eye over the man’s shoulder.

Jaime dropped the tattered pink dress into the campfire as Brienne walked towards Catelyn and
Qyburn. She had on tan breeches and a blue tunic. The garments were surprisingly well fitted.
Looking back to Jaime, Catelyn noted the same filthy clothing on his person.

When Jaime eventually reached them, he snorted at Catelyn’s shocked expression. “Are you
confused again, Lady Catelyn? Have you forgotten how to mount a horse?”
Glancing at Brienne, Catelyn spoke to no one in particular. “Well that looks far more agreeable.”

Jaime huffed a laugh and mounted his horse. “You Northerners have shit taste in clothing. Ill-fitted
pink dresses and those dull grey and black tones. How boring. As unsatisfying as Northmen.”
 “Where is the other wolf”
Chapter Summary

After a few days travel, the group arrives at King's Landing. Jaime moves into the city
to speak with his father.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

“Because your plan is stupid. Do you want your head collecting flies alongside your honorable
husband’s? I thought you hoped to have your entire body intact when you are reunited with your
daughters.”

Jaime stared at Catelyn as the woman paced inside the small, abandoned cottage outside the city.
They had spent the past hour arguing over approach. Catelyn didn’t trust Jaime to ride into the city
alone for the exchange.

For his part, Jaime thought that Catelyn was being irrational in her assumption that she would be
allowed to leave the Red Keep alive and with her daughters. It was Brienne who broke the
stalemate.

“My lady, he makes a fair point. Given Lord Tywin’s plans with Lord Bolton, he has little desire to
see you alive and an exchange made. I trust that Ser Jaime will bargain for your daughters release.”

Catelyn sighed and looked to Brienne. “If Lord Tywin thinks me dead, who exactly is he releasing
them to?”

“To me, my lady. Ser Jaime could say that I came south with him at your son’s behest. He can say
that I am your son’s sworn sword acting on his behalf.”

Jaime raised a victorious brow. “See. A perfect plan. I’ll tell my father that the wench is here on
Robb’s orders. You stay good as dead in my father’s mind. Your little wolves get returned safely. I
get a fucking bath. Everyone wins.”

A bath. Cersei will lose her mind if she sees me looking like this. Looking less like her.

Catelyn sighed and rubbed at her chin before eyeing Brienne uneasily. “You’re certain of this?”

Jaime looked to Brienne, silently imploring her to trust him. They were enemies, but Jaime would
uphold his oath to see the exchange made. With a sigh, the wench nodded. “I am. We can trust
him.”

Not for the first time in the past week, Brienne’s confidence in Jaime’s word sent a rush of warmth
through his body. He had spent the better part of the last few nights trying desperately to avoid the
wench and his unwanted feelings for her.

Jaime tried to convince himself that it was only Cersei’s absence which contributed to his
unwelcome regard for the wench. It was a losing battle.
In truth, Jaime dreaded seeing Cersei. He had been away for a year and was now returning home
without his sword hand. The hand that defined him. Beyond the physical change, Jaime also felt of
clearer minded when away from his family.

It was as though for the first time in years, Jaime could be the man he always dreamed of being.
The boy who slayed Aerys to save a city. A man who had the capacity to do the honorable thing. A
true knight.

Even if Catelyn didn’t appreciate his efforts, Jaime felt good about the actions he took of late. The
wench’s faith in him only encouraged that feeling.

Jaime no longer wished to be that man who pushed a boy from a tower. A man who followed his
kin’s orders blindly. His family asked for the worst in him. Brienne believed the best in him.

“I’ll return on the morrow. You have my word.” Jaime spoke resolutely to the women before him.
Begrudgingly, Catelyn agreed, and Jaime moved outside.

Qyburn waited by the horses to head into the city. In return for Qyburn’s aid on the journey south,
Jaime had promised him audience with Tywin. The disgraced maester hoped to find a place among
the staff at the Keep where he could continue his studies.

The women stepped out from the cottage and watched them depart. Jaime couldn’t help but feel a
strange sorrow at leaving the wench. He glanced back at her briefly before looking forward.

Cersei is my other half. The only woman that matters. When I’m back with her, all will feel right
again.

The ride to King’s Landing was short, but the closer that they came to the Red Keep, the greater
Jaime’s trepidation. Making his way past the guards, Jaime noted with displeasure the presence of
the Reach. Loras Tyrell stood tall and arrogant at Jaime’s approach.

“Gods. What a state you’re in.” The young knight’s face scrunched in distaste as he appraised
Jaime. A smile tugged at Jaime’s lips as he recalled the tale of the wench besting Loras at a melee.

“What’s so amusing?” Loras glared at Jaime who pushed past Loras with his shoulder. “Oh,
nothing really. Just sizing up the man who lost a melee to Brienne of Tarth.”

At the young knight’s crestfallen face, Jaime laughed and move inside. He couldn’t wipe the smile
off his face at the thought of the wench. The Keep was surprisingly quiet as maids moved from
room to room.

Approaching his father’s study, Jaime looked to Qyburn warningly. “Remember what I told you. If
you disclose any of it, I’ll kill you myself.”

The disgraced maester nodded in understanding as Jaime knocked and awaited his father’s word to
welcome him inside.

“Enter.” Tywin’s gruff voice beckoned form the other side of the door. Pushing it open, Tywin’s
eyes lifted briefly from the parchment he was writing on. Without standing up, he appraised Jaime.

“You’ve returned… not quite in one piece.”

“Lovely to see you as well, father.” Moving into the room, Jaime told Qyburn to shut the door
behind them.
“It took you long enough to get here. I received word from Lord Bolton of your release from
Harrenhal a week ago. Did you enjoy your leisurely stroll down the Kingsroad?”

“Well we had some things to dispose of along the way. Deceit can be a messy affair.” Jaime took a
seat before the table and looked around the room. At his back, Qyburn stood awkwardly awaiting
invitation to sit.

Glancing back at disgraced maester, Jaime spoke sarcastically. “If you’re waiting for my father to
extend courtesies, you’ll find your own decay becomes the first opportunity in King’s Landing to
conduct your studies.”

Jaime kicked the chair beside him towards Qyburn and turned back to his father. The older lord
continued to stare down at the missive he was writing. When Tywin was occupied with such
matters, nothing could interrupt him; not even the return of his eldest son from a year of captivity.

When Tywin finished, he folded the missive, sealed it, and looked to Jaime. “Now that this
frivolous uprising is done, your will be removed from the Kingsguard and take your place as Lord
of Casterly Rock.”

Jaime snorted and crossed his arms. “Frivolous uprising? That boy has beaten us in the field and
continues to make gains. You may have defeated Stannis, but I would hardly call the matter
addressed.”

Tywin leaned back in his chair and studied Jaime. It always made Jaime feel small when Tywin
appraised him impassively. Reaching to a pile of missives on his desk, Tywin tossed a letter at
Jaime.

Lord Tywin,

We have fulfilled our agreement to your House. The young wolf, his queen, and men have met the
Stranger. Word never reached Lord Bolton of his men’s completed task to the south. Curiously,
Lord Manderly’s men came looking for Robb Stark the day following the blessed event. We have
summarily disposed of the visitors.

Lord Frey

Jaime felt his blood run cold. He feared looking up to meet his father’s knowing eyes. Taking a
deep breath, Jaime placed the missive on the table.

He killed them at a wedding? Truly, he has reached a new low.

“I suppose congratulations are in order. You’ve outmaneuvered yet another threat to the crown.”
Jaime’s words felt bitter on his tongue. He prayed to the Seven that the disgust he felt did not enter
his tone.

Tywin looked unamused as he continued to study Jaime. “Where is Lady Stark, Jaime?”

Feigning indifference, Jaime leaned back and quirked a brow. “I hardly know what awaits us in the
next world. I imagine she is either frolicking in some shit northern field with Ned or welcoming her
son at the flaming gates.”
Jaime felt his heart hammering in his chest despite his contrived nonchalance. Tywin narrowed his
eyes and huffed a small laugh. “Or perhaps she is with that girl from Tarth. The one you went back
for at Harrenhal.”

Fuck. How does he know that? Only Locke’s men and Qyburn know.

Glancing to the disgraced maester, Jaime tried to assess the man. Qyburn’s face was expressionless
as he stared ahead at Tywin. Before Jaime could reply, Tywin spoke again.

“One more time, Jaime. Where are they?”

“I told you, Lady Stark is…”

Tywin slammed his fist on the table, halting Jaime’s words. “Do not lie to me!”

“I am not! Lady Stark is dead. Her sworn sword however...” Jaime took a deep breath and met
Tywin’s eyes. “I… I saved her. She was however a bit displeased with Bolton’s men. They’re
rotting in a field somewhere. She’s on her way home now. She’ll be no bother to anyone.”

“She is our enemy.”

“She saved me. I would have died in the middle of the fucking woods had she not taken care of me
when Bolton’s dogs took my hand. You are surprisingly quick to align with a House who maimed
your son.”

Tywin narrowed his eyes at Jaime. “Lord Bolton regrets his man’s misstep. An action taken
without knowledge of our understanding. The man will be dealt with accordingly. Now, as to
matters here, your brother is married to Sansa Stark. He brings us the North.”

The words shocked Jaime and he flinched slightly. Catelyn is going to lose her shit.

“Your sister will marry Loras Tyrell and strengthen our ties to the Reach. Joffrey marries Margaery
on the morrow. I will find you a suitable wife, and you will take your place as Lord of Casterly
Rock. You are a Lannister. Never again forget where your duty and loyalty sits.”

“I am a Kingsguard. I will not leave my position.” At Jaime’s words, Tywin stood from his chair
and leaned over the table.

“A precedent has been set. Joffrey dismissed Ser Barristan on account of age alone. I will have
Joffrey dismiss you for inability to perform your duties. You cannot serve in the Kingsguard with
one hand. You will serve this family instead.”

“No.”

“No?” Tywin raised a challenging brow as he eyed Jaime.

“I am a Kingsguard. I serve for life. If you try and see me removed from the Kingsguard, I will tell
the truth of it.”

“The truth of what?” Tywin’s eyes narrowed and the atmosphere in the room shifted.

“The children. The war was not built on a lie. All of them are mine.”

Rage consumed Tywin as he walked around the table. Tywin’s eyes darted to Qyburn and he
pointed a long finger at the door. “Out. My son is ill from his travels and speaks madness”
Without hesitation, Qyburn moved quickly from the room. When they were alone inside, Tywin
lifted the water jug from the table and smashed it into Jaime’s face. The impact sent Jaime
backwards in his chair.

Staring up at Tywin in shock, Tywin looked down at Jaime with disgust writ across his face. “If
you ever speak such filth again, I can assure you that losing your hand will feel a pleasure in
comparison. You have until the wedding on the morrow to correct your attitude.”

Jaime felt blood drip from his nose and lip as he watched Tywin walk back around the desk. Taking
a seat, Tywin returned to writing his missives. Jaime stood up and brushed himself off. Without
looking up, Tywin spoke plainly.

“Go bathe, shave, and change into something befitting your station. You are a Lannister. I will not
have you walking around the Keep looking like a lowborn beggar.”

Turning on heel, Jaime stormed out of the room and slammed the door shut behind him. Qyburn
stood in the hallway, uncertain of where to go next. With a huff of annoyance, Jaime looked down
the hallway and spotted one of the maids.

“You there! Have a guest room arranged for this man.” As the woman scurried off, Jaime grabbed
Qyburn by the arm. He spoke through gritted teeth as they walked.

“Did Locke do this or did you?”

Jaime already knew it wasn’t Qyburn. Given Walder’s words and the knowledge that Manderly
forces arrived at the Twins, confirmed as much. Catelyn had underestimated the travel time from
White Harbor, but she also had not expected an attack at a man’s wedding.

And she thinks I’m the despicable creature. She may ride into the city and kill Tywin herself. Gods.

“I imagine that Locke sent word to Lord Bolton at the Twins.” With a sigh, Jaime left the man in
the guest wing. There was only one place he wished to be. In the arms of the woman he loved.

Making his way to Cersei’s room, Jaime knocked and pushed open the door. Cersei sat on the
chaise lounge in the room; her head snapping up at the sound of the door opening.

Jaime watched as her eyes went wide in shock. As Cersei processed everything, her eyes roamed
his body and landed on his missing hand. The slightest hint of revulsion tugged at her features, but
she said nothing.

Taking a step into the room, Jaime watched as Cersei turned back towards the table and took a sip
of her wine.

I don’t look like her anymore. I am supposed to be her mirror image.

Then, she spoke. “Father said you were on the way home. I assumed that meant whole.”

Jaime sighed and looked to the floor before raising his eyes to stare at the back of her head. “Yes
well, things got a little out of hand.”

The jape did not land well. Cersei shot up from her seat and stomped towards him. “I prayed every
day for a year that you would return to me. Safe. Whole. You took too long.”

Took to long?
“I was a prisoner! Every day I thought of little more than escaping and returning to you.” At his
words, Cersei’s face contorted. Disgust and anger flooded her tone.

“Then why didn’t you?”

Jaime huffed in exasperation. His eyes darted around the room as though searching for an answer
that wasn’t there. “I did try! I killed our own cousin trying to get back to you! I returned as quickly
as I could.”

A pair of sapphire eyes came to the forefront of Jaime’s mind. They looked to him with respect and
trust. Jaime tried to shake the image and focus on the green eyes staring at him. Angry, disgusted,
green eyes.

Well, I suppose I didn’t return as quickly as I could have, but I did return. Despite all odds, I came
home.

A vicious snarl tugged at Cersei’s features. “You stink of filth. You’re covered in rags. Your beard
is disgusting. You’re… incomplete.”

As Cersei returned to her seat, Jaime took pause and appraised Cersei. He was shocked out how
little he felt at her rejection. Leaving the room more confused than ever, Jaime ran his hand
through his long hair.

In the past, they would have been all hands and lips, clawing at one another passionately. Now
Cersei seemed different. Changed somehow.

Is it Cersei that has changed or am I seeing her for what she truly is? Mayhap it is only me who
has changed.

More baffling than Jaime’s lack of hurt at Cersei’s reaction, was the pair of sapphire eyes that had
flooded his mind when he stood before Cersei. His twin. His other half. His true love.

Is Cersei my true love?

It felt as though a string connecting Jaime to Cersei pulled and snapped when the door closed
behind him. The disconnect frightened Jaime, but he felt free. Weightless almost. Then the fear
took over.

If I’m not Cersei’s other half and she is not my true love, what have I made of my life? I’ve
centered my world around Cersei. I joined the Kingsguard for her. I’ve risked my life and hers by
laying with her. I’ve done horrible things to keep our affair hidden. I’ve ignited a war for her.

Unsurprisingly, Tywin had maids sent to Jaime’s room to shave his beard and cut his hair. Once he
was bathed and in clean clothing, Jaime made his way towards the only room in the Keep that
could give him the answers that he so desperately needed. Tyrion’s room.

Knocking on the door, Jaime sighed and waited for Tyrion to answer. A slight commotion inside
alerted Jaime to Tyrion’s presence. Pulling back the door, Tyrion stood in shock as he met Jaime’s
face. Tyrion’s face had a massive, ugly scar running down its length. His eyes looked ten years
older.

Extending his arms out wide, Tyrion smiled as his eyes misted. “Thank the Gods! You’re alive and
home.” Jaime dropped to a knee and embraced his brother. Over Tyrion’s shoulder, he saw Sansa
sitting forlorn in the corner of the room.
 Why didn’t Cersei great me warmly? Why didn’t father? It seems only Tyrion give a shit that I’m
alive.

Stepping back slightly, Tyrion appraised Jaime. “What happened to your hand?”

Jaime huffed a laugh and raised a challenging brow. “What happened to your face?”

With a snort, Tyrion shrugged. “I saved the city from Stannis and father took all the credit.
Typical.”

Jaime huffed a laugh and raised his stump. “I mouthed off and father allied with my tormenter.
Typical.”

Looking back at Sansa, Jaime could see tear tracks lining the young girl’s face. Jaime surmised she
had been informed of Robb’s death. With a sigh, Jaime stood and spoke to Tyrion. “I need to speak
to you and my goodsister.”

Jaime raised a curious brow to which Tyrion rolled his eyes. “Yes, father’s doing. If you can
imagine it, he has been scheming.”

Moving into the room, Jaime watched as Sansa’s eyes lifted to him. Hatred lined her face and
Jaime mused that if she had access to a dagger, he would be good as dead.

Sitting opposite the girl, he looked to Tyrion. “When did you find out about the wedding in the
north?”

“Word came yesterday.” Tyrion ran a hand over his face and looked to Sansa. “My brother isn’t
like the rest of them, Sansa. I swear to you.”

The girl’s tone was filled with hate as she spoke. “Oh? Is he not like his son, then?”

Jaime sighed and shook his head. “I know you have no reason to trust or believe me, but I have
information that must never leave this room. Your mother is alive.”

Sansa’s eyes went wide at the words, but she said nothing. Glancing to Tyrion, Jaime continued to
speak. “I traveled here with her. She is safe at a hidden location outside the city with her sworn
sword. I don’t know how, but I will figure out a way to get you to her. Unfortunately, your
marriage to my brother does make this a bit complicated.”

Tyrion sat beside Sansa; his eyes mirroring the young woman’s shock. “Thank the Gods. We
thought Lady Catelyn dead with the rest of the Northern army. Father said she went to the Twins.”

Jaime snorted. Wouldn’t that have made for a more agreeable trip south.

Jaime shrugged. “No, she saw fit to torment me the entire way here. We have a deal of sorts. She
returned me, and I’m to return you and your sister.” Raising a brow, Jaime looked between the pair
before him.

“Where is the other wolf?”

Chapter End Notes

I really didn't want to kill Robb, but alas... I kept canon here. After Joffrey's wedding,
we start to see the larger impact of Catelyn remaining alive.
 "We need the Vale"
Chapter Summary

Catelyn receives word of the Red Wedding. She reflects on what to do.

The sound of an approaching rider echoed through the rundown cottage. It was just before sunrise;
the day after their arrival outside the city. Brienne moved to the window and smiled slightly. From
where she sat, Catelyn could see Brienne’s cheeks pink.

Gods. It must be the dolt. Please don’t let Brienne fall for this man.

“My lady, he’s back.” Brienne’s voice betrayed her pride that Jaime kept his word. Moving to the
door, Catelyn pulled it open slightly and watched as Jaime tied the horse’s reins to a tree. With one
hand the task took longer than it would most.

Pushing back the hood covering his face, Jaime moved inside wordlessly. His face was bruised on
the left side and he had a fresh scab on the corner of his lip. Judging by the look on his face,
Catelyn was not going to enjoy this conversation.

“Gods. What happened to your face?”

Jaime raised a brow at Catelyn and shrugged. “My father and I had a slight disagreement on
things.”

Gods! What kind of father hits his son?

Jaime appraised the small space. A heavy sigh pushed past his lips as he looked back to Catelyn. “I
would tell you to sit down, but there don’t seem to be any chairs.”

Catelyn huffed and moved beside Brienne. A united front, they would hear Tywin’s terms
together. “My legs won’t fail me. Come now, what does your father require?”

Jaime bit his lip and grimaced. “I would highly recommend you sit for this. You would be far
easier to catch than the wench if you faint, but still, I would rather not be placed in such a
position.”

Catelyn felt her heart falter slightly at the words. Swallowing thickly, she met Jaime’s eyes. “My
girls. Are they alright?”

Jaime ran a hand through his short hair. Loathe as Catelyn was to admit it, he cleaned up well. He
was clean shaven, lice free, and his attire reflected the Lannister’s opulence. With a grimace, Jaime
began to speak.

“Right. Where to begin. It would seem that the younger one grew tired of King’s Landing. She fled
after Joffrey took Ned’s head. No one has seen her since.”

Catelyn grabbed at Brienne’s forearm as despair wash over her.

My little girl. She’s alone out there.

Jaime took pause to let Catelyn collect herself before continuing. “Then the other one…”

“Sansa.” Catelyn interrupted sternly.

Gods. Insufferable.

“Yes, that’s what I was going to say. I should know my own goodsister’s name.” At Jaime’s words,
Catelyn choked slightly; on what precisely she was not entirely certain.

At her reaction, Jaime shrugged and smiled weakly. “Yes, well congratulations I suppose. In a
way, that makes us family now. I’m very happy for you.”

“This is not funny, Kingslayer!” Catelyn glared at the man before her. Her left hand balled at her
side and she unintentionally dug the nails of her right hand into Brienne’s arm.

“Do I look amused by this? I think Tyrion could have done far better. Ideally someone not a child.
Don’t worry, it’s hardly consummated. My brother is too busy fucking your daughter’s
chambermaid.”

Catelyn released a breath that she hadn’t realized she was holding. The confirmation that her
daughter was not dishonored by a man grown settled over her, and she considered the man in
question.

At least Tyrion seemed the most decent of the lot. A bit crass, but not one to take advantage of a
child.

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Catelyn spoke to Jaime without meeting his eyes. “So how do you
plan to get Sansa to me then?”

“Well, it isn’t quite so simple to just kidnap my own goodsister. Tyrion is helping devise a plan.
She can’t leave this morning. It would be too obvious. Joffrey and Margaery are getting married
today and her presence is expected.”

Catelyn exhaled loudly, but she understood the situation. The fact that Jaime and Tyrion were still
aiming to get Sansa out despite her new position in House Lannister was appreciated.

“So, I doubt you’ve told your father that Lady Brienne is here for the girls?”

Judging by the look on Jaime’s face, that topic had not yet been raised. “That is where our
disagreement began. He is displeased to hear that I returned for the wench at Harrenhal, before
sending her on her merry way to Tarth.”

Both Catelyn and Brienne glanced to one another in confusion before turning to Jaime. Shaking her
head, Catelyn met Jaime’s eyes. “How does he know of Brienne?”

Jaime laughed nervously and rubbed at the back of his head. “Now might be a good time to sit
down…” The Kingslayer glanced wearily to the small window in the cottage and struggled to
gather his words.

“Qyburn believes that Locke sent word to Lord Bolton at the Twins. Two days ago, my father
received a missive from Lord Frey. While your letter was received by Lord Manderly, his men
arrived at the Twins a day after the wedding. They were greeted with swords. Your son,
gooddaughter, and bannermen were killed at the wedding. I’m sorry.”

Catelyn felt the ground spin beneath her feet. She swayed slightly and struggled for air. It was as
though the Stranger had her by the throat.

No. My boy. How can this be? How could they?

Everything seemed blurry as the world fell away from her. Catelyn felt Brienne’s hand at her
shoulder and words in her ear, but she understood nothing. She saw flashes of Robb around her.
Robb. Her firstborn.

Catelyn saw him in bursts of memories. Holding him the day he was born. Encouraging his first
steps. Watching him train. Kissing away the pain of his first injury. Hugging away the hurt of his
first heartbreak. Seeing him smile. Observing him in love.

Fleeing from the small cottage Catelyn screamed into the open field. She threw herself to the forest
floor, sobbing hysterically.

My child. My sweet child. I should have gone to him. I came all the way here, and yet I’m no closer
to holding any of my children. Now one meets the Stranger while I sit in a fucking cottage staring
out a window longingly.

Catelyn felt someone at her side. A warm hand rubbed soothing circles into her back. Catelyn
assumed it to be Brienne, but when she heard Jaime’s voice, shock washed over her.

“I’m sorry. He would have made a better king than my… nephew. Not that Robb would have let
me live to see it. I’ll get Sansa out. You have my word.”

Another presence sat at Catelyn’s other side. Brienne sat wordlessly, but her body pressed close
against Catelyn’s. It was a comforting reminder that she wasn’t alone.

They sat by Catelyn as she sobbed. When the first rays of light began to touch the city in the
distance, Jaime stood up. “I have to return before my absence is noted. I’ll return after the wedding
with word of how we plan to see Sansa returned to you.”

Before he left, Jaime placed a missive in Catelyn’s hand. “Here. It’s from Sansa.”

Then he was gone. The retreating sound of Jaime’s horse reminded Catelyn that she was stuck in a
rundown cottage with none of her kin. Her entire objective to see her children returned home was
proving unsuccessful.

She wanted to believe Jaime’s words, but Catelyn knew that if Tywin would go so far as to violate
guest right to win a war, that he would do worse to maintain his power. In Tywin’s mind, Sansa
was all that remained of House Stark. He would never let her go. Sansa was his key to the North.

Moving back inside the cottage, Brienne set to the task of preparing Catelyn some food. The Stark
matriarch sat on the floor by the window and opened the letter that Jaime had given her.

Mother,

I’m so happy you’re alive. They told me you were at the Twin when they killed Robb and our men.
I’m so frightened. It has been horrible here. Cersei and Joffrey pass their time torturing me. Tywin
forced me to wed Tyrion.

I don’t know where Arya went, and I thought I was alone in this world. Tyrion is the closest I have
to kindness. We are wed, but there was no bedding. He has been good to me, though I hate this
family.

Ser Jaime says he will get me out and to you. I just want to go home.

Sansa

Catelyn’s heart broke reading her daughter’s words. Catelyn could not bring herself to think on the
horrors that Sansa endured at the hands of the Lannisters.

Offering Catelyn a warm meal, Brienne sat on the floor across from her. Catelyn could feel the
young woman’s eyes on her, appraising her physical state.

“I’m very sorry about Robb. I know that’s a useless thing to say, of course. I will be happy to
search for Arya once we secure Sansa.”

Catelyn looked up from the food and offered a small smile at Brienne. “It’s an unnatural order to
things. No parent should play host to their child’s funeral. Gods. I can’t even do that much for
Robb.” With a strangled sob, Catelyn considered Brienne.

“Your father has endured this pain three times over. You’re all he has left. We truly need to speak
with him, Brienne. I can’t have you risking your life when you are all he has, regardless of your
desire to marry and provide heirs.”

At her own words, Catelyn felt her heart sink.

I can’t do this more than once. By the Seven, how did Lord Tarth? I need my children home safely.
I’ll take them anywhere to keep them safe. The Boltons can have the bloody North for all I care.

Then it hit her.

Rickon and Bran. Gods, they’re at Winterfell.

“My boys. With Robb dead and the army destroyed, there is no one to protect Winterfell. My boys
are there!”

Brienne’s eyes went wide at her words. “Would you have me ride North now, my lady?”

Catelyn wanted to say ‘yes’. She could trust Brienne with this as she trusted the young woman with
her life. Every fiber in her being screamed to have her go, but she couldn’t.

I don’t know what awaits her. What if Roose captures her again. It could turn out that I unwittingly
sent this girl to her death. I know what it feels like to lose a child now and I can’t do that to her
father. I can’t do that to her.

“I thank you for the offer. I trust you with the task, but I cannot. We need more information first on
what is happening there. With the Northern army decimated, it is likely the Boltons have already
moved back North. I fear we will need an army to save my sons, and I know of one.”

Brienne looked at Catelyn curiously. “Which army, my lady?”

“We need the Vale.”

 "Oathkeeper"
Chapter Summary

The day of Joffrey's wedding arrives and nothing goes as planned.

Jaime knelt beside Joffrey’s lifeless body with shock writ across his face. The crowd stood in
stunned silence as Cersei’s screams shook the castle walls. Cersei shoved Jaime away forcefully.
“Don’t touch him!”

Looking up at Tywin, Jaime observed the grim expression in his father’s features. His father
looked around momentarily as no one in attendance dared move until orders were given. Then
Cersei was casting an accusing finger at Tyrion.

It all happened so fast. Faster than Jaime could process everything. Looking to Sansa, Jaime saw a
man in her ear, desperately trying to urge her from the table. Jaime recognized the man as the court
fool, and he worried that Sansa may flee out of fear. Shaking his head at the girl, Jaime silently
implored Sansa to remain in place.

At his expression, Sansa stood motionless; her eyes heavy with conflict. Jaime stepped away and
moved to Tywin’s side, speaking for his father’s ears only. “I’ll take Lady Lannister to her room.
You know that Tyrion did not do this.”

Moving quickly to Sansa, Jaime grabbed her by the arm and guided her back towards the Keep. He
mumbled in hushed tones, imploring the girl to do nothing rash. “I swear to you that I will keep my
word, but today is not the time.”

Tyrion and Jaime had discussed getting Sansa to Catelyn after the wedding festivities. The revelers
would be distracted; drunk with merriment. Even Cersei was not likely to notice Sansa’s absence as
the day wore on and she grew heavy with drink.

Sansa nodded mutely as Jaime guided her towards the room she shared with Tyrion. At his side,
the Valyrian steel blade that Tywin had given Jaime earlier that day remained strapped to his hip.
Jaime ushered Sansa into the room and closed the door behind him.

“When I leave this room, you bar the door and do not open it for anyone. Do you understand?”
Jaime narrowed his eyes at the young girl. He worried that Cersei would try to implicate Sansa
with Tyrion. He would need to find a way out of this quickly.

During the walk to the room, an idea came to Jaime, but he needed to speak with his father.
Running a hand over his face, Jaime looked sympathetically to the girl before him. She looked so
much like her mother. Unlike Catelyn however, Sansa was not equipped to deal with the political
maneuverings and cruelty of his House.

“I have an idea that should see you reunited with you mother imminently. Just stay here and I’ll
return later. Remember what I said. Do no open this door for anyone who isn’t me.”

Sansa nodded and sat in stunned silence on the edge of the bed. As Jaime retreated to the door, he
cocked his head at her. “The door, Sansa. You need to lock it behind me. I’m not so skilled as to do
so form the other side.”

As if shaken from a trance, she moved quietly to the door and closed it behind Jaime. When he
heard the young Stark bar the door, Jaime moved towards Tywin’s study.

The castle was in a state of utter chaos. From somewhere in the distance, Jaime could hear Cersei’s
pained screams. On instinct, he wanted to go to Cersei and comfort her. A part of Jaime would
always love Cersei and he hated seeing her distraught.

Jaime never cared for Joffrey, but no one deserved that death. The boy was cruel, arrogant, and
cowardly. It did not surprise Jaime that someone would target him.

Even still, it seemed to Jaime that someone was threatening the crown more so than Joffrey
personally. Tommen likely wouldn’t be safe in the capital, and it would be important to move
quickly and find the true culprit.

As Jaime neared the study, he found it empty and opted to wait outside. Knowing Tywin, it
wouldn’t be long before he returned to begin planning how best to proceed.

Get rid of one enemy and another stands in its place.

Jaime paced outside the study anxiously. An array of thoughts went through his head and he hoped
that his plan would work. Soon, a flurry of activity down the hallway alerted Jaime of Tywin’s
arrival. He was barking orders at several guards. Tywin’s face was flush with anger as the men
scurried away.

As Tywin’s eyes landed on Jaime, a flicker of irritation kissed the older lord’s features. “I’ve little
time for your insolence at this time.”

Jaime followed Tywin into the study and shut the door. “You know that Tyrion had nothing to do
with this! Tyrion may be many things, but a kinslayer he is not!”

Tywin sighed as he rounded his desk and began fiddling with papers. “It matters not. He stands
accused and will face trial. As for his wife, it seems she may be an accomplice. Is she secured in
her room?”

Seven hells.

Taking a deep breath, Jaime stepped forward and narrowed his eyes at Tywin. “I have an offer to
make you.”

Tywin quirked a brow and took pause. Withholding comment, he waited for Jaime to continue.

“Tyrion’s freedom for the white cloak. I will take my place as your heir at the Rock. My only ask
is that I take Sansa and Tyrion with me. They won’t be safe here. You’ve seen it for yourself.
Cersei will try to destroy them, and I won’t let her harm Tyrion.”

“Done.”

Tywin’s curt reply caught Jaime off-guard. His jaw slackened slightly as he appraised his father.
Tywin moved around his desk and sat down.

“I will find you a suitable wife from a kingdom we have need to secure. Tyrion’s marriage and the
alliance with House Bolton secures the North. Cersei will wed Loras and bring us the Reach. Petyr
Baelish will secure the Vale through his marriage to Lysa Tully. The Freys bring us the
Riverlands. We only need to secure the Stormlands and Dorne.”

“The Stormlands. I will name my bride.”

At Jaime’s words, Tywin’s eyes narrowed. “You have a noblewoman in mind?”

Jaime swallowed thickly and nodded. “I do. She will accept my offer.” She will do anything for
Lady Stark.

A knowing smile tugged at Tywin’s lips. “Let me guess… the Tarth girl.” Tywin appraised Jaime
for a moment before continuing. “I hear she is a freak. Large as the Hound. Ugly as the Mountain.”

Jaime felt his flesh hand clench into a fist. His jaw began to grind as he glared at his father.

Do not speak this way of my wench, or Lady Catelyn’s method of execution will seem far kinder.

Jaime’s defensive thoughts caught him off guard. He tried to shake the reaction away and dismiss it
as protectiveness over a misfortunate as he once protected Tyrion.

Taking a steadying breath, Jaime spoke as calmly as he could. “She is heir to Tarth and one of the
best with a sword that I’ve ever seen. She killed several Stark and Bolton men without breaking a
sweat. Her father is well-respected in the Stormlands and would rally the vassals to the crown.”

Tywin narrowed his eyes and hummed. “When can you have her here? Don’t lie to me and say as
fast as ravens can fly and ships can sail. I heard of your morning ride. She is somewhere in or near
the city.”

A flash of panic coursed through Jaime. The thought that his father had someone follow him was
distressing. Had Tywin’s spy followed him more closely, Tywin would know of Lady Stark’s
survival.

Jaime met Tywin’s eyes and removed any worry that may be present. “How soon can you release
Tyrion?”

“To appear impartial, we can hold the trial in two days’ time. I will ensure the witnesses are
properly prepared to deliver the necessary testimony that will see the case thrown out.”

“Then I will marry Lady Brienne after Tyrion is found innocent of the charges. It can be the day
after for all I care. Then myself, my lady wife, Tyrion, and Sansa, will depart for the Rock.”

I may even bring along a new handmaiden for our lady wives.

Tywin nodded in agreement. As Jaime turned to leave, Tywin called out after him. “I will require
proof of a bedding before you leave. Is she still a maid or are the rumors true and she is your
whore?”

Jaime’s breathing faltered and rage coursed through him. “I have not touched her nor has any other
man! I saved her from rape. I can assure you, she is still a maid.”

“Good. I will have Pycelle confirm as much the evening following the trial. You will wed and bed
the girl the following day.”

Jaime visited Sansa before sundown to ensure she was of sound mind. He informed her of the new
plan to which she was greatly appreciative and eager to leave.

When Jaime visited Tyrion, his brother conveyed shock at Jaime’s decision.
“I… I can’t thank you enough. I know what you’re giving up for this. I do hope you can grow to
find love with someone else. Cersei likely won’t take this as well.”

Jaime’s brows furrowed at the words. “I hardly know what to call that anymore.”

What has it ever been I suppose? I thought it love, but it feels different now. Irreparably changed.
It is as though a blindfold has been removed and I can see more clearly.

Tyrion sighed and rubbed his face. “I had not intended to tell you this, but given your decision, this
may make you feel better of it. Cersei was less than faithful during your time apart. There have
been a couple of men, most notably cousin Lancel.”

Jaime flinched at the words. His initial reaction was anger, but the more he thought on it, he didn’t
know why. A memory from a week ago flashed in his mind; the morning he snuck away from
camp and took himself in hand to the image of the wench.

I suppose I was equally unfaithful in a way, even if I have no intent to sleep with the wench. Gods.
I’ll need to find a way out of the bedding. How horrible it would be.

The more Jaime thought on it, the less angry he was of Cersei’s infidelity and the angrier he was at
the actions that he chose to take in the name of a false love.

Tyrion’s voice brought Jaime back to the small cell that he was held in. “So, who is the lucky
lady?”

“Brienne Tarth. I’m certain you’ve never heard of…”

Before Jaime could finish, Tyrion guffawed. “Brienne of Tarth!? The woman who served in
Renly’s Rainbow Guard? Gods, I hear she’s the size of the Mountain.”

Jaime’s brows furrowed as he appraised Tyrion. “How do you know of her?”

Tyrion chuckled slightly. “Loras has been pissing and moaning about her. He claims that she killed
Renly in a fit of jealous rage. He wanted the crown to execute her. Needless to say, Loras was quite
excited when rumors began to circulate about Lady Brienne’s and Lady Stark’s demise at the hands
of House Bolton.”

“She didn’t kill Renly! You’re smarter than that, Tryion. Don’t listen to that sniveling twat Loras.”

Tyrion startled at Jaime’s angry words. His expression shifted from shock to consideration. “Gods.
You care for her. Is this… she’s Lady Stark’s sworn sword then. The sworn sword you said was
guarding her.”

“What!? I don’t care about her! I just… she’s a good person and Loras is a nasty little shit. You
shouldn’t listen to him.”

Tyrion put up his hands in defense. “I’m sorry. I meant nothing by it. I appreciate what you’re
doing for me. Truly. You just as easily could have smuggled Sansa out in the night while I face
death. We both know father would have found me guilty.”

Jaime sighed and played with the hem of his jerkin. “I should go, but I’ll visit on the morrow.”

The brothers said their goodbyes and Jaime headed out under the cover of darkness. As he neared
the small cottage outside the city, his nerves hit him.
What if Brienne won’t agree? This may be too much even for her stubborn loyalty to
accommodate. Mayhap I shouldn’t mention the bit about the bedding. She is more likely to strangle
me than bed me.

Approaching the cottage, Jaime was pleased to see that no firelight came from inside. He worried
after their continued safety now that Tywin was aware of Jaime’s ride out that morning.

Moving inside, Jaime saw the women sitting against the wall; both of their faces bathed in
moonlight.

It was Catelyn who broke the silence as Jaime shut the door. “If you tell me of anymore deaths, I’ll
have Brienne stab you.”

Jaime snorted and sat across from them. “Funny you should say that… there may have been
another wedding feast death today.”

Catelyn rolled her eyes and huffed in annoyance. From the croak in her voice and her bloodshot
eyes, Jaime could tell that Catelyn spent much of the day crying. “If you’re about to make one of
your stupid japes, I may kill you myself.”

“It’s no jape. Joffrey is dead.”

At Jaime’s words, both women’s heads snapped to him. Saying it out loud was the first time that
Jaime acknowledged his son’s death. It felt strange to consider. Joffrey never felt like his child, nor
did Myrcella and Tommen. The only difference was that Jaime despised Joffrey. The other children
were sweet and innocent.

Catelyn’s mouth hung open slightly. “I’m… I’m sorry.”

Jaime shrugged and looked away. “He was a miserable shit. Hardly felt like a nephew let alone a
son.” Shaking his head, Jaime focused on the task at hand.

Cersei implicated my brother and she means to implicate Sansa. She’ll bring witnesses to trial to
ensure that both meet the Stranger.

Catelyn shot to her feet and began to protest, but Jaime put his hand up. “I made a deal with my
father.” At his words, Catelyn stilled. She looked to him wearily before nodding slowly and
awaiting his words.

“My father wishes me to marry and take his place as heir. I agreed on the condition that Tyrion and
Sansa accompany me to the Rock where they will be safe from Cersei’s reach. He agreed.”

Catelyn sighed and nodded slowly. “Thank you. When will I have Sansa then?”

“The trial is in two days and he will pronounce Tyrion innocent. I will then be released from the
Kingsguard that day and on the morrow, I’m to be married.”

Catelyn nodded and exhaled. “Good. So, three days then? You’ll leave the city immediately and
deliver Sansa to us?”

Jaime’s eyes darted nervously to Brienne. “Yes, well we’ve been having so much fun on our
journey south, that I figure a trip west will be even better.”

At his words, Catelyn’s brows furrowed. “I’m not going west with you. Why would I do that?”
Rubbing nervously at his neck, Jaime felt his heart hammering.

Gods. What is wrong with me? It’s just the annoying wench. She should be so lucky to marry a
Lannister.

“The thing is, my father wishes to make me a match that will secure Tommen’s crown without
more rebellions. Tyrion’s marriage and House Bolton bring him the North. Your sister is to wed
Littlefinger to bring him the Vale. He has the Freys in the Riverlands. He has the Reach through
Cersei’s betrothal to Loras. He means to have me take a bride from Dorne… Or the Stormlands.
Sooo…”

Jaime’s eyes drifted to Brienne who sat staring at him in confusion.

“No! You didn’t!? Find another! Leave her be.” Catelyn interjected, catching Jaime by surprise.

“You’re ruining my proposal, Lady Catelyn. Very rude of you.” Jaime scoffed as he looked to
Catelyn. Behind her, Brienne remained seated on the floor looking more confused than ever.

With a sigh, Jaime continued. “I had this entire romantic speech planned. Top notch wooing and
now its fucked.”

“Oh really!? Let me guess ‘Marry me wench because I’m pretty enough for us both and you’re not
getting other offers’!? No. Find someone else.”

Jaime raised a brow at Catelyn’s words. “That… was much better than the speech I had prepared.
Can I use that?”

“This is not funny.” Catelyn cast a warning finger at Jaime. Her eyes narrowed as she muttered
under her breath at him.

With a sigh, Jaime dropped any jest from his tone. “I’m not japing. It makes sense. Think about it.
Anyone else would tell my father the moment we hand Sansa over. It’s the best way to get both
Tyrion and Sansa out. My brother can’t stay there. He isn’t safe.”

Catelyn huffed and raised a challenging brow. “And how do you plan to explain this to your father
when only you and Tyrion arrive at the Rock?”

“Interpretive dance?”

“Would you take this seriously!?”

“I lost my fucking hand on the last trip. It stands to reason I could very lose things not attached to
me.”

Catelyn huffed in annoyance as Jaime took a breath and continued.

“You’re ruining the mood, Lady Stark. I’m trying to propose and you’re fucking this all up with
your Tullyness. Do you or do you not want your daughter back?”

Turning to Brienne, Catelyn rushed to her. “I will not ask this of you. You are your father’s last
heir and you deserve a proper match.”

Brienne shrugged with indifference. “No man will have me anyway. There are no matches. If it
sees your daughter returned to you, I’ll do it. It isn’t as though we need to remain married. It is only
a means to an end.”
“That’s the spirit, wench! Very romantic indeed.” Jaime couldn’t help but feel a slight pain in his
heart at her words.

‘A means to an end.’

Catelyn sighed and shook her head. “Brienne, you have done so much for me already. You’ve been
willing to sacrifice your own life for my cause.”

“That’s what a sworn sword does, my lady. I’m happy to.”

With a grunt of frustration, Catelyn rubbed at her face. “You are more than a sworn sword,
Brienne. I want you to be happy and have a proper husband. Even if you do this to see Sansa
returned to me, you will need a reason to annul the marriage. For a noblewoman, that can be one of
two reasons. Lack of consummation or inability to bear children.”

Brienne’s face turned a deep shade of red. “Well that should be obvious to any Septon with eyes,
my lady. Of course, they will know the marriage has not been consummated.”

Catelyn shook her head. “Gods, child. You think so little of yourself and you are too innocent for
this world. Do you truly think that Lord Tywin will allow his oldest son and heir, making such an
arrangement so see my daughter and his son off to the Rock, without having someone check that
you’ve consummated?”

Jaime swallowed thickly as he recalled Tywin’s words from earlier. Turning abruptly to face him,
Catelyn pointed at Jaime. “See his face child? I bet you Lord Tywin has already mentioned it.”

“Well, Qyburn is here. We can have him lie for us. We can find a way out of all that. I certainly
have no desire myself!”

Catelyn raised an unimpressed brow and looked back to Brienne. “The only grounds you’ll have,
whether true or false, is inability to produce heirs. Any opportunity for you to find another match
after that will be impossible.”

The weight of Catelyn’s words rolled over Jaime. He had not thought to consider it. Speaking
quickly, Jaime tried to plead his case. “We can have another maester or midwife check her then.
Surely, they can verify that the union wasn’t consummated, and it was merely a lie. Just… let me
talk to the wench for a moment.”

Opening the door, Jaime inclined his head towards Brienne. Before Catelyn could follow, he shut
the door behind them. Jaime grabbed Brienne by the elbow and led her away from the cottage,
wanting to ensure Catelyn could not hear him from the window.

“I don’t have another option to get my brother and Sansa out alive. If you like, we can get it
annulled right after. If doing so puts you in a position of being unable to take a more agreeable
husband, I can… I mean… I could do my duties as expected by your lord father. I’ll just need a lot
of wine of course.”

Jaime felt his neck heat at the words. Glancing to Brienne, he could see her cheeks pink as well.
“I’m not so worried about all that. My father has long given up on such things. I’m the last of my
line. You’re more apt to suffer negative consequences from this than I am. Thank you for honoring
your word to Lady Catelyn. I’ll do my part.”

With a sigh of relief, Jaime nodded and looked to the forest floor. “Well that was much more
agreeable without Lady Stark ruining it all. I’ll come back for you once Tyrion has been freed. I
don’t trust my father until that point. I suppose in three days you’ll be Lady Wench Lannister.”
Brienne rolled her eyes which elicited a small laugh from Jaime. Grabbing her hand, Jaime kissed
her knuckles. He meant the gesture in jest to get a rise out of her, but when Jaime’s lips met her
knuckles, his stomach dropped, and his breathing faltered.

Jumping back slightly, Jaime stammered over his words.

“I um… I almost forgot. I have something for you.”

Brienne’s brows furrowed slightly in response. Removing his sword and sword belt from his hip,
Jaime handed it to Brienne. “It’s Valyrian steel. My father had it forged from Ned Stark’s sword.
Joffrey was given the other half, though I suppose it will be Tommen’s now. You’ll use it to guard
Lady Stark and her daughter. My father had someone follow me this morning. He still thinks Lady
Stark dead, but if something goes wrong or someone finds out…”

Jaime trailed off as he handed the sword to Brienne. She unsheathed it and marveled at the blade.
“It’s gorgeous. I can’t take this. It’s yours.”

“It’s wasted on me.” Jaime raised his stump to emphasize the point.

With a wide smile, Brienne looked back to the blade. “Thank you, Ser Jaime. I will guard them
with my life.”

At the sight of her smile, Jaime felt his heart skip. He had the overwhelming urge to kiss her, but he
quickly pushed that thought down. Clearing his throat, he spoke softly.

“They say the best swords have names.”

Brienne paused to consider his statement. Her smile grew impossibly wider as she met his eyes.

“Oathkeeper.”
 “A proper mess indeed"
Chapter Summary

Brienne reflects on things and gets some unwanted advice from Catelyn.

Chapter Notes

Thanks to a few readers who pointed out some of the timing on the letter about Theon
taking Winterfell and some lacking clarity. My plot changes a little bit of what he
did/does there. I added in a little paragraph to share what Catelyn thinks might have
happened there. Thanks for those noting it!!!!

Brienne watched as Jaime rode back towards the castle. It was overwhelming to think that in two
days, she would be betrothed. In three days, she would be married. Of course, it would all be for
show. A ploy to get Sansa back before moving north towards the Vale.

Lady Catelyn was worried at what had become of her youngest boys. The last missive she received
was vague and left her wondering if they were dead, missing, or prisoners. When word arrived at
Robb’s camp of Theon’s betrayal, only Ser Rodrik was reported dead at the boy’s hands.

She never thought Theon would kill Bran and Rickon, but now that the Boltons were moving
against Winterfell, she feared for her youngest. Then there was the matter of Arya.

No one had seen nor heard of the girl since Ned’s execution. Brienne tried to imagine where she
might have gone.

I suppose I would go towards family. Mayhap the Vale or Riverrun? I don’t imagine she would try
to go North on her own considering the war. Does she even know the details of what has bene
going on between the North and the crown? She is so young.

Brienne looked down to the sword in her hand. It was overwhelming to know that she held one half
of Ned Stark’s sword. She would do as Ser Jaime bid her. She would protect Lady Catelyn and her
children to her last breath.

Brienne had given little consideration to the implications of her fake marriage to Jaime. She
appreciated and understood Lady Catelyn’s hesitation in the harm it could do to Brienne’s
reputation and future marriage prospects, but Brienne knew the truth of it.

No one would have me regardless of assumptions concerning my maidenhead. I only hope word of
this does not reach my father’s ears. I would hate him to think this a true marriage. I would hate to
give him false hope that a man would have me.

Walking back inside, Catelyn stood quickly from her spot on the floor. She eyed the sword in
Brienne’s hand with a curious expression.
With a warm smile, Brienne moved towards Catelyn and showed her the sword. “Lord Tywin had
this forged from Lord Stark’s. Its twin sits with King Tommen. Ser Jaime has given it to me to
protect you and Lady Sansa.”

Catelyn’s eyes watered at the sight of the sword. “Gods. They’ve destroyed so much that is and
represents my House. I’m at least glad that you wield half of it now.”

Brienne offered a sympathetic smile as she said her next words. “Mayhap we can retrieve the other
half some day. Rickon and Bran can each have a part of Lord Stark’s sword.”

At the words, Catelyn sighed. “That’s a lovely thought, but Bran would never be able to wield any
sword if he lives. As for Rickon, he’s but a babe. I would rather he never take up the sword in light
of all that has happened. You keep it. You’re the type of woman that Ned would want to have it.”

Catelyn took pause. Her face fell slightly before she spoke. “I worry after what you just agreed to
out there.”

“I agreed to the plan. We will get Lady Sansa back the safest way possible. I am not worried of any
consequences where it concerns me, my lady. If this works and we get Lady Sansa back, it will
have been the most prosperous marriage that I ever could have hoped to have.”

Catelyn sighed and shook her head. The Stark matriarch looked around the room and grabbed
Brienne’s hand. “Come sit, Brienne. We need to talk. I mean to… prepare you.”

Prepare me? For what?

As Catelyn sat with her back to the cottage wall, she patted the space next to her. Brienne sat down
and studied the woman’s face. The stark matriarch seemed to be searching for the words.

“What do you know of beddings?”

Oh Gods. I do not wish to speak of this.

“My septa told me of the process.”

Catelyn groaned at the words and rolled her eyes. “Gods. I can only imagine. Listen, I highly doubt
Lord Tywin will allow for Ser Jaime’s plan to have Qyburn ‘check’ you. He will call on a midwife
or the grandmaester. He will want to ensure Ser Jaime takes your maidenhead before you leave the
city. We can get you moon tea on the road. It would be best if you told him not to spill inside you
though.”

Brienne swallowed thickly at the words. She had assumed they could find a way out of the
bedding. Inwardly, she prayed to the Seven that Jaime could think of another way around the
matter.

“What has your septa prepared you for, Brienne?”

Brienne shifted uncomfortably on the floor beside Catelyn. When she spoke, Brienne could hear
the discomfort in her own body. “That it will hurt. My husband will not ensure my comfort in the
matter. That I should ensure it is dark, to see to my husband’s comfort. That I should be… on my
stomach so he doesn’t have to see my face.”

And as Ser Jaime indicated, he will need a lot of wine.

Catelyn exhaled audibly and pinched the bridge of her nose. “I need you to forget all that Brienne.
Your septa deserves nothing short of the Seven Hells. Yes, it will likely be uncomfortable. That
said, the act can also feel pleasurable to women. You need not feel any guilt or frightened if that is
the case. Ser Jaime, for as difficult as he is, does not strike me the type to hurt a woman. Do try not
to fear the bedding.”

Taking pause, Catelyn seemed to struggle for the next words. “No matter how Ser Jaime behaves,
do not take it personally. Something tells me that he is dealing with some conflicting emotions
right now. I do not believe he finds you unpleasant to look upon.”

Brienne snorted at the words. “I know you mean to do me a kindness, my lady. I know what I look
like. He has made his opinions of my appearance clear. I appreciate his honesty. I’ll do my duty in
this plan to see Lady Sansa returned to you safely. You have my word.”

Catelyn’s hand reached out to grab Brienne’s wrist. She gave a light squeeze as she seemed to
struggle internally with something. “You are a remarkable young woman, Brienne. I fear though
that you do not value yourself in any of this. Please, just don’t allow this experience to dictate your
expectations of a future husband. The type of match that you deserve will want to look upon your
face. He will want to see you enjoy the act.”

Nodding in understanding, Brienne prayed the matter sufficiently discussed. She felt
uncomfortable thinking on such things, particularly where she was beginning to feel conflicting
emotions towards Ser Jaime.

Her hate for the man turned to respect at his confession in the baths at Harrenhal. Her respect grew
into something much more given his actions to save her from rape and death. She was at war with
herself internally.

Brienne recognized the feeling. She had experienced it before with Renly. She felt it in the way her
heart hammered in her chest and her face flushed when Renly was near, only now, she was feeling
it for Ser Jaime. It was mortifying and she wished to cut out her traitorous heart as she would cut
down an enemy.

Damn my useless heart. I could never have requited love. Leave it to me to fall for a man who
fancied other men and now to fall for Jaime Lannister. Ridiculous.

Brienne resolved that unlike with Renly, she would not allow her actions to be driven by her heart.
When Renly began his campaign, she left her duties behind to serve him. She would have followed
him anywhere on account of her unrequited love.

With Ser Jaime, she would not make the same mistake. This was a temporary arrangement. Little
more than an honorable man keeping his oath. They would go through with this sham marriage
and then part ways.

Brienne would concentrate on serving Lady Catelyn and Lady Sansa. Nothing would tear her from
her duties again. She would not make the same mistake twice.

Looking back to Lady Catelyn, Brienne could see the inner conflict etched on the woman’s face.
Brienne was not an eloquent woman. There were only a handful of people throughout Brienne’s
life who tried to engage her in genuine conversation. She often felt bumbling in her attempts to
convey her thoughts, but she needed Catelyn to know that she wanted to do this to aid her cause.

Taking a deep breath, Brienne spoke confidently. “Thank you for thinking so highly of me. I just
want you to know that I only wish to be a sworn sword. I do not wish to have a husband anyway.
That was the foolish fantasy of a young girl who did not understand the realities of this world. My
duty is to you, for as long as you’ll have me. If you release me, I will not return to Tarth. Please do
not feel badly about my involvement in this plan. I am happy to help.”

Catelyn huffed a small laugh. “Oh Brienne. I’m sorry for what this world has done to you. I’m
sorry for what this world does to all daughters. My own girl sits in the Red Keep; a pawn in Tywin
Lannister’s game. How I wish that I could protect you all from these cruelties. I just hope this all
goes according to plan. Nothing seems to have gone our way of late.”

“That’s not entirely true, my lady. I know what happened at the Twins was horrific and painful, but
you are still alive. Ser Jaime aided our cause and now he means to keep his oath to you. Gods
willing, we will move north in a few days to treat with your sister. With her army, hopefully we can
find your sons alive. Then we will find Arya.”

“I fear for them. If my belief that Theon kept them alive rings true, they are in serious danger at the
hands of House Bolton. Gods, Theon hardly realizes the threat he faces. Never trust a Greyjoy. I
shouldn’t have allowed Robb to send that boy to his father for aid.”

Catelyn stood up and walked to the window. She appraised the night sky and turned back to
Brienne. “I used to love laying in the fields outside Riverrun as a girl. I could spend hours gazing
up at the stars.”

“I enjoyed that as well. I would sneak out at night to go to the cliffs on Tarth. It was peaceful there
and the skies so clear.”

Catelyn hummed as she took in the words. She turned back to the window and spoke more to
herself than Brienne. “I wonder if Arya and the boys are looking upon them now.” After a
moment’s silence, Catelyn turned back to Brienne.

“Don’t they call your father the Evenstar?”

A small smile tugged at Brienne’s lips. “They do. A small tradition dating back to the earliest
rulers of Tarth. Back when they were kings in their own right.”

“It is an ancient line then?”

Brienne nodded and hummed in affirmation. “Yes, they date back to the First Men. Like much of
the south, they have Andal and Valyrian influence though. Quite messy.”

Catelyn huffed a laugh. “Yes, a proper mess indeed.”

 “Just like old times”
Chapter Summary

The day of Tyrion's trial arrives. Jaime is surprised at how the day goes.

Jaime sighed as he walked through the Keep. It was the day of Tyrion’s trial and Cersei had
summoned Jaime to her chambers. He could only imagine what she had to complain about now.

Given the events to come, Jaime was surprised at how quiet the Keep was. Aside from a few maids
bustling about, the halls were nearly empty. The sound of Jaime’s footsteps bounced off the walls
as he neared Cersei’s room.

The night prior, he had dreamed of Brienne again and woke up wanting. It was becoming quite
problematic and Jaime worried at his body’s growing response at the mere thought of the wench.

He had initially assumed that reuniting with Cersei would undo whatever damage had been done to
his psyche and body that made his cock react so wantonly to thoughts of the wench.

When Jaime reunited with his twin and lover, the opposite only seemed to happen. His need for the
wench felt heightened and his desire to be near Cersei lessened.

It’s likely on account of the cold reception home. I’m certain now that Cersei has had time to
recover from the shock of seeing me, she’ll be more agreeable. We can move past my wandering
mind and her enjoyment of rotating bed partners.

Knocking at Cersei’s door, Jaime heard a commanding voice call out from inside. “Enter.” Jaime
pushed open the door and saw Cersei in her housecoat. He was surprised that she was not already
dressed for the day and wondered where her chambermaids were.

“Brother, come inside. I have something for you.” Cersei’s voice was nonchalant, and Jaime
thought little of it. He did as she instructed, wondering what manner of gift she could possibly wish
to bestow upon him.

When he turned around, Cersei was at the desk by the balcony. She reached into a box and
removed a gold, false hand. A proud smile stretched across her face as she appraised the
craftsmanship.

“I had this made for you. You can’t imagine the trouble that I’ve gone through for this, but truly
Jaime, you can’t walk around with that useless stump just swaying in the breeze.”

Jaime looked to his handless arm and grimaced. He struggled looking upon it himself. It was a
harsh reminder of his lost identity.

Cersei walked over and handed Jaime the prosthetic expectantly. Appraising it closely, Jaime
nearly guffawed at the absurd level of detail on it. It was both extravagant and useless. A gold
brick.

I suppose I could smash dolts across the face with it.

“A hook would have been more practical, no?”

Cersei’s nose crinkled in distaste. “A hook does not give the appearance of being whole. You are
my twin. My mirror. My other half. I would not see you with some tasteless hook on your wrist.”

Jaime snorted at the words.

Yes, gods forbid we do anything other than cover my maiming in gold. We haven’t need for
practicality; only appearance and excessive displays of opulence.

Putting the prosthetic on, Jaime winced slightly at the tight fit around his raw scabbing at the wrist.
There were ties at the top which would prove difficult to handle alone. Cersei watched him fumble
with it before grunting in annoyance and tying it off.

“There. Now you look more acceptable. You understand of course, this needed to happen first.”

First? First before what?

At her words, Cersei untied her robe to reveal her naked body. Jaime gawked at her slightly before
looking away. A strange sensation coursed through his body. Something akin to betrayal. While he
was not officially betrothed to Brienne in the eyes of court, he knew they were to marry on the
morrow.

Cersei moved her body against Jaime and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I do hope you’ll
support our efforts today at trial. It’s important we’re a united front.” As Cersei placed emphasis
on the word ‘united’, she ground her hips lightly against Jaime’s cock.

Her lips pressed warm against Jaime’s, but the charge once there when their lips met was gone.
Jaime’s body jerked with shock. He felt nothing. Instead, all he could picture was a set of sapphire
eyes. It hit him like a lightening bolt.

Seven hells. I’m in love with Brienne.

At Jaime’s lack of physical response, Cersei stepped back and appraised him. “Something’s
changed.”

Jaime’s mind was racing, and his heart was hammering at the realization. “You should get dressed.
The trial begins soon.”

Without another word, Jaime moved quickly from the room and into the hallway. Jaime closed the
door behind him and leaned against the wooden frame. He ran a hand through his hair as shock
washed over him.

Oh fuck. What do I do? I need Tyrion. No, wait… I can’t. He’s awaiting trial. Seven hells.

Jaime moved to the yards, wishing to take out his unease on the training dummy. It wasn’t until he
stepped into the courtyard when Jaime realized that outlet was no longer an option.

Fuck. I can’t let people see me fail to a gods damned dummy. I need someone to spar with. Who?

Jaime instead paced the gardens and tried to sort out what to do with this newfound knowledge. He
talked himself in circles until he realized the hour. It was time to get to the trial.

As the trial proceeded around him, Jaime’s mind raced. He could feel Cersei’s eyes fixed on him
as if willing him to look up and explain himself. He could hear distantly the weak accounts from
witnesses. He could see Tywin going through the motions as Tyrion sat bored in the accused’s box.

Then it was over. Tywin stood from the throne and spoke loudly for all to hear.

“It is our finding that there is no evidence tying Lord Tyrion Lannister to the crime for which he is
accused. By all accounts of the witnesses, neither he nor his wife had any knowledge of a plot to
murder King Joffrey. The crown will pursue other suspects as evidence is presented.”

From her seat, Cersei jolted upright in a rage. “This trial was a mummer’s farce! I demand a retrial!
I can find more witnesses who will not lie before gods and men. I know he did this!”

Tywin nodded to the Kingsguard stationed throughout the room, “Take the queen to her room. She
is unwell and still grieving as a mother should.”

As Cersei began to protest, Tommen entered the room. With a nod to Tywin, he moved to the
throne and took his place.

“The crown has a matter to address before the court.”

At Tommen’s words, Cersei’s brows raised. Two of the Kingsguard moved to her side and tugged
at her arms to remove her from the room. She fought against their attempts to see her removed; her
eyes fixed on Tommen.

“Ser Jaime Lannister, please step forward.” At Tommen’s command, Jaime moved before the base
of the stairs ascending to the throne.

“You have served the crown well as a Kingsguard for many years, but in light of your recent
injury, you are unable to carry out the duties required of a Kingsguard. I release you from the
Kingsguard and thank you for your service. You will now serve the crown as Lord of Casterly
Rock and Warden of the West. The crown has found you a suitable woman of noble birth to help
unite our battle-weary kingdoms. On the morrow, you will wed Lady Brienne Tarth of the island
of Tarth.”

Removing his white cloak, Jaime set it at the steps and sighed. His entire life lay crumpled on the
ground before him. On the morrow he would wed Brienne. ‘A means to an end.’

What will become of me then? When Brienne leaves me to follow her lady north, I will be alone at
the Rock with only shadows to surround me.

Then Cersei’s screams reached his ears. “Traitor! You made this deal to save that monster!”

Jaime had forgotten she was still in the room when Tommen entered to make his proclamation. She
was near the door and being dragged down the hallway towards her room. Her eyes were locked
on Jaime as the Kingsguard removed her from the throne room.

Tywin’s face betrayed his aggravation at her outburst before the court. As the throne room quieted
and members of the court began to file out, Jaime turned to Tyrion and smiled teasingly. “Well
brother, you’re a free man now.”

“And so are you.” Tyrion raised a knowing brow; mirth was heavy in his eyes. Then Tyrion’s
smile fell when he spotted someone over Jaime’s shoulder. Turning around, Jaime came face to
face with Tywin.

“Go on then. Bring in the girl. We have much to prepare for.”

Jaime took a deep breath as he took in Tywin’s words. His father retreated from the throne room
and Jaime slowly turned back towards Tyrion. He wanted nothing more than to ask his brother for
advice before he retrieved Brienne, but he opted against it.

What advice could he offer? This marriage is for no reason other than to see him and Sansa to
safety. Brienne will wish for nothing more than to leave me thereafter. No need exposing such
wasted feelings to Tyrion.

“Well, I suppose I’ll see you later then.” Jaime placed a hand on Tyrion’s shoulder as he moved
towards the courtyard. He was simultaneously eager and worried at bringing Brienne to the Keep.
With Cersei’s outburst before the court, it was likely she wouldn’t make things easy.

The entire ride out to the cottage, Jaime could think of little more than what had happened that
morning in Cersei’s room. He was petrified of seeing Brienne now that he recognized his true
feelings for her. When he approached, Jaime smiled to himself at the sight of her through the
window.

She was polishing Oathkeeper in the modest sunlight afforded by the window. Something about
the sword he had bestowed upon Brienne made Jaime feel that they would always be connected in
some way, even if apart.

Jaime tied the horse off to the tree and moved to the door. He was surprised when it opened
abruptly, and a frantic looking Catelyn answered.

She peaked out while remaining inside the small cottage. “Are you certain you weren’t followed?”

“I don’t believe so. Why?”

It was then that Jaime saw the blood on Brienne’s tunic. His breathing faltered as he quickly
scanned her body, looking for any sign of injury. When he saw none and he noted that she
otherwise looked healthy, Jaime spoke wearily.

“Brienne, what’s gone wrong?”

Brienne looked up calmly and smiled. “Oh. I just had to dispose of some people.”

Jaime chuckled at the absurdity of it. The nonchalance with which Brienne spoke, combined with
her words and bloody tunic were ridiculous.

“Have you been walking about the woods killing innocents, wench? That is not very knightly of
you.”

Catelyn grabbed his arm and glared. “Last night, two men entered this cottage in the middle of the
night. Thank the gods you gave Brienne that sword. They were most shocked at my presence.”

Jaime’s eyes went wide as his eyes darted between the two women. “Seven hells. I can’t imagine
my father would have bothered sending them anyone at this point, but I don’t know.”

Brienne shrugged. “I do hope that neither he nor anyone else at the Keep expected to hear back
from those men. I find the dead agreeably quiet.”

Looking to Catelyn. “It might not be safe here for you tonight. I just don’t know where I can bring
you.”

“No. I should stay here. If I’m seen outside, I’ll be good as dead.” Catelyn’s voice was heavy with
fatigue as she sat down on the floor.

Jaime moved the dagger at his hip and gave it to her. “I trust you can figure out which end to use?”

Catelyn snorted and grabbed the sheathed dagger from his hand. “I’m certain I can manage.”

With a sigh, Jaime considered the situation. “I’ll talk to Tyrion. If anyone can devise a plan, it
would be him. He has a couple of trusted men in his employ. If he is able to have you safely
moved under the cover of night, I’ll have the man sent brandishing Tyrion’s House ring to assure
you. Otherwise, we’ll be back in two days with Sansa.”

Catelyn took pause before meeting Jaime’s eyes. “Thank you. Take care of her! By the Gods,
Jaime Lannister if any harm befalls her…”

“Yes, yes. You’ll feed me to the direwolves.” Jaime waved her off and turned to Brienne. “Well,
lady wench. Ready to meet the family? I would warn against trusting anyone over half your
height.”

Stepping outside, Jaime untied the horse and brought it over. With a teasing smile, Jaime met
Brienne’s eyes. “We get to share a horse again. Just like old times.”
 “I’ve had enough of my family”
Chapter Summary

Brienne arrives at the Keep. She meets two of his kin before being ushered off for
examination.

“Why not a hook? Seems it would be more practical.” Brienne studied the gold prosthetic on
Jaime’s wrist as they moved into the city. The afternoon sun was catching the golden, false hand
and reflecting into her eyes. She squinted and turned her head away at the sight.

Jaime chuckled lightly, shaking Brienne’s chest slightly as their bodies pressed together on the
horse. “I said the same thing. My sister doesn’t find a hook becoming nor similar enough to her
perfect form.

Oh, Gods. How could I have forgotten about Cersei in all this? His love. Surely she is enraged at
this sham marriage.

“Have you told her of the plan? I can’t imagine she is pleased.” Brienne grimaced as she spoke. For
her part, Brienne believed the plan impacted little of her reputation. For his part, Brienne believed
this effort could cost Jaime everything.

“What!? No. She would tell my father and that would put an end to all this. I doubt she is pleased,
but I hardly care.”

The indifference in Jaime’s tone caught Brienne by surprise. Given everything she knew of Jaime
and his relationship with Cersei, Brienne imagined this plot sparked a fight between the pair.

“I’m sorry if this lie has done your relationship harm. I appreciate you keeping your oath to Lady
Catelyn. Once this is over with, I’m certain she’ll forgive you.”

At Brienne’s words, Jaime stiffened slightly. She reprimanded herself for commenting on his
relationship with Cersei.

Gods, I’m likely the last person he wants such words from.

Brienne quickly offered an apology for the intrusion. “Apologies. It isn’t my place to comment,
and I obviously don’t know anything about such things.”

Jaime mumbled something under his breath that Brienne could not understand from his back.
Deciding it best to hold further comments on the matter, Brienne took in the sights and sounds
around her. The capital was busier, louder, and smellier than any city she had been in before.

Shopkeepers bustled about selling their wares and mothers wrangled their unruly children. The
looming shadow of the Red Keep stretched out over the city below as they neared the castle.
Brienne felt a slight apprehension kick in as she stared up at the towering Keep atop Aegon’s Hill.

The rest of the ride passed in silence. As they entered the castle grounds, soldiers bowed to Jaime
before looking to Brienne; their eyes wide in a combination of disbelief and distaste. By the time
they reached the courtyard, Brienne could not tell if she was relieved or petrified.
Jaime dismounted the horse and turned to offer a hand, but Brienne was already on the ground. She
continued to eye the Keep uneasily before looking down at her blood-stained tunic.

Seven hells. This is not the first impression I should be making. In nothing else, mayhap it will
distract Lord Tywin from my face.

Before she could contemplate the matter further, Jaime’s hand was at her elbow and guiding her
inside. He leaned in towards her ear and whispered as they walked. “I think we’ll need to get you a
fresh tunic before meeting my father. He will not be half as impressed as I was.”

Impressed?

Brienne’s brows furrowed at the words, but she allowed Jaime to guide her quickly through the
connecting hallways and towards what she assumed to be the guest wing.

The hallway was fairly empty save for a few staff members changing linens in some of the rooms.
As they stopped before one of the doors, Jaime quickly pushed it open and tugged her inside. The
room was modestly decorated with what appeared to be an unpacked trunk at the base of the bed.

Jaime moved towards the trunk and flipped the lid open. He began rummaging through its contents
before finding what he was looking for.

This is his room. It barely looks lived in.

As if sensing the question in her head, Jaime stood upright with a clean tunic in hand. He followed
her eyes around the room and observed her furrowed brows.

“They kicked me out of the White Sword Tower. Apparently, they only want Kingsgaurd there.
How boring. They don’t wish for the sounds of our bedding giving the other knights any ideas.”

Jaime’s voice was teasing, but the moment he finished speaking, his neck turned a violent shade of
crimson which Brienne imagine rivaled her own.

“Uh, well… what my father assumes will be a bedding. I asked Qyburn to do the exam which
means he won’t touch you. He’ll lie for us. It only cost me a few halfdead men.”

Brienne’s eyes went wide at Jaime’s words. “You offered him living men to experiment on?”

Jaime shrugged. “On a volunteer basis. Most of them would prefer that to life in the black cells.
They’re likely writing songs in my honor as we speak.”

Gods. Please let this be a jape. That is awful.

Before Brienne could respond, Jaime was shoving the cream-colored tunic into her arms. “We
should get this over with. I told Tyrion that we would take supper with him and Sansa. I thought
you might like to meet the girl.”

A wide smile pulled at Brienne’s lips. It was the reminder she needed as to why she was enduring
this torture. To that moment, Brienne could imagine little more than judgmental stares and
questioning of his sanity for taking a wife such as her.

“Yes, that would be lovely.” Brienne took the shirt and scanned the room for a privacy screen.
Realizing there was none, she looked at Jaime expectantly. “I’ll meet you in the hallway then.”

Jaime startled slightly at the words as if shaken from a trance. “Right. Sorry. I’ll leave you to it.”
As he left the room, Brienne changed her tunic quickly and left the bloodied garment across the
trunk. She moved into the hallway and found Jaime leaning against the opposite wall; his face
lined with annoyance. Brienne followed his gaze and saw a woman who could be none other than
Queen Cersei.

Tales of the Lannister twins’ beauty was as renowned as knowledge of their arrogance and wealth.
Brienne thought it likely that Jaime was the most handsome man she had ever seen. Even Renly
paled in comparison.

Cersei, like Jaime, did not fall short of the tales. Immediately, Brienne felt inadequate. It was bad
enough standing alongside the average person, but to find herself before both twins was
uncomfortable at best. She found her every flaw heightened tenfold in their mere presence.

She is the woman that Ser Jaime is meant to be with. Not someone such as myself. How can Cersei
not see through this charade? She must know that something is afoot.

The queen sauntered over with a false smile plastered on her face. “So, this must be my goodsister-
to-be. Charming.”

Jaime moved between Brienne and Cersei in an almost protective posturing. At the movement,
Cersei snorted and rolled her eyes. “Oh come now brother, tales of this woman’s behaviors have
reached my ears. Certainly, she doesn’t fear a proper lady of court such as me.”

Without seeing his face, Brienne could hear the tautness of Jaime’s jaw in his tone. “Ladies of
court are such dull creatures. I prefer a woman who knows how to handle a sword.”

The Lannister twins glared at one another and the tension in the hallway was palpable. When
Cersei reached them, her eyes moved over Jaime’s shoulder and to Brienne. A challenging tone
laced Cersei’s words when she next spoke. “Careful brother. From the looks of this one, you may
be in for a swordfight the night of your bedding.”

Cersei moved to walk around them, but Jaime grabbed her wrist quickly. Green eyes locked on one
another as a nonverbal argument passed between the twins. Brienne felt out of place; as though
stumbling in on a private moment between the pair. Then she heard Jaime’s warning tone. He
spoke quietly for their ears alone.

“Insult my betrothed again sweet sister, and you’ll find the West added to the growing list of
rebelling kingdoms.”

The words hit Brienne like the sea off Tarth’s shores when she would jump in from the cliffs.
When Brienne saw Cersei’s jaw slacken, she realized it mirrored her own. Before another word
could be exchanged, Jaime put a hand on Brienne’s back and urged her forward.

Their pace was quick as Jaime guided Brienne towards Tywin’s study. The anger on his face was
evident and Brienne thought it best to keep her mouth shut.

He is risking it all for this oath. We may have asked too much of him.

When they came to a stop before Tywin’s study, Jaime moved his hand from Brienne’s back and
knocked. The sudden loss of contact was like dousing water on a fire.

A voice from the other side bid them enter and Brienne felt a flurry of nerves at the sound. She
worried that Jaime’s father would see through the act the moment he laid eyes on them. Brienne
tried to concentrate on the objective of seeing Sansa safely delivered to her mother.
As Jaime pushed open the door, he inclined his head indicating that Brienne should walk in. The
study was larger than most and impressively tidy. Tywin sat behind the desk at the back of the
room, writing a missive as the door closed loudly.

With another nudge, Jaime moved Brienne forward and towards the desk. He muttered under his
breath. “Let me handle his questions.”

At their approach, Tywin stood up and rounded the desk. “This must be Lady Brienne Tarth. It
would seem Tarth is closer than the docks. All these years… I hardly realized.” Tywin’s tone was
heavy with sarcasm as he raised a knowing brow at Jaime.

“Yes, curious how people show up at the gates just in time.” Brienne could sense the tension
between father and son at Jaime’s words. Knowing the truth of why Jaime killed Aerys, Brienne
understood the underlying implication in Jaime’s words.

Tywin hummed slightly as he appraised Brienne. “Why does this woman wear the sword that I
gave you?”

“As you said, I’ll never be as good with the left. It’s for the best that my wife wears it so that she
can keep me safe. Besides, she needed the protection. I’m afraid your little spies won’t be coming
back anytime soon. They shouldn’t have tried ambushing the future Lady of the Rock.”

Tywin’s brows raised in questioning. “Spies? What are you on about?”

From the look on Tywin’s face, it was clear to Brienne that he had not sent the men in question.
She glanced to Jaime who eyed his father suspiciously.

“I do recall you admitting to having me followed. It seemed your prying eyes wished for a closer
look. I don’t believe they found the effort worth the cost.”

Tywin huffed and shook his head. “I sent no one after you. As I said, someone provided me
information that you were seen leaving the Keep. I did not order anyone to follow you. Now to that
point, let us go see the midwife. She is in Grandmaester Pycelle’s office awaiting us.”

Brienne’s eyes darted to Jaime who stood tall. “I asked Qyburn to check her. Lady Brienne knows
him and would be more comfortable with him than some unknown. She has been through a lot on
the journey south, and I will not have her made to feel any more uncomfortable than she already
does. Your request is an insult.”

Moving past them and towards the door, Tywin raised a brow. “Do you think me an idiot, boy? I
will have an answer from someone in my employ. I do not know, nor do I trust Qyburn.”

“No. She sees Qyburn. She was almost raped in the Riverlands. I won’t subject her to your
ridiculous probing at the hands of some stranger.” Jaime’s jaw clenched as he spoke. The Lannister
men glared at one another; neither willing to bend.

“You will do as I say, or the crown finds itself with new evidence against your brother.”

At Tywin’s words, Brienne saw Jaime flinch. It was obvious that his brother was as important to
him as Sansa was to Catelyn. She muttered under her breath for Jaime’s ears only.

“It’s fine.”

Jaime’s head snapped to her. “No.”

With a resigned shrug, Brienne shook her head and looked to the floor. The embarrassment of
having seen the type of woman fit for Jaime, and Brienne’s knowledge at what she looked like,
washed over her.

Jaime sighed and spoke to his father. “Just give us a moment.”

When the door shut, he grabbed her arm and narrowed his eyes at her. “You cannot agree to this.
He will want the same person to check you after. I don’t know who he brought in. I can’t bribe the
woman.”

“He threatened your brother. You said he wasn’t safe here and you mean to get him out too. I…
can’t there be another way to lie about it? Mayhap…” Brienne’s mind wandered briefly before
landing on an option. “Do brothels in the city only offer women?”

Jaime’s eyes went wide. “What!? Are you mad? I am not taking you to such a place.”

Dropping her voice to a whisper, Brienne narrowed her eyes at Jaime. “Well we don’t have many
options, do we? I need to get Lady Sansa and you want your brother safely removed from the city.”

Jaime spoke through gritted teeth and kept his eyes locked on her. “No brothels. By far your worst
idea ever. Right up there with ‘Oh, I’ll just distract those vile Bolton soldiers in the middle of the
woods with no aid.’ I’ll not have any man including myself forced on you. We’ll talk to Tyrion and
figure something out during dinner.”

Forced on me? I’m hardly the one who would be made to suffer in all this.

Jaime ran a hand over his face and grunted in frustration. After a moment’s pause, he sighed and
spoke quietly before moving towards the door. “If that midwife tries to harm you, do not keep quiet
about it.”

Tywin appraised the pair as they exited the study. They began to walk towards Grandmaester
Pycelle’s office where the midwife was awaiting them. The walk from Tywin’s study to the room
was not far, and Brienne felt her heart hammering in her chest.

What if my body doesn’t have what she is looking for? It wouldn’t be the first time my body has
failed me.

When they arrived, Tywin pushed the door open to reveal Grandmaester Pycelle and an older
looking woman with braided hair and kind brown eyes.

Tywin made quick introductions to the midwife, a woman named Bethany. The older lord then
moved out from the room, but Jaime didn’t budge. His eyes were fixed on the pair before them.

“What are you doing?” Brienne spoke under her breath to Jaime; her eyes searching his face for an
answer as to why he didn’t exit with his father.

Ignoring her, Jaime looked expectantly to Pycelle. “Shouldn’t you be exiting too?”

Pycelle’s brows furrowed slightly as he looked away from the shelves he had been searching
through. “Oh. I’ll be no bother. I’m a maester Ser Jaime. I can assure you, my presence will not
interfere nor is it indecent.”

“It is indecent. Now get out.” Jaime gawked at the aged maester as though he had gone mad.
Before Brienne could assure him that it was fine, Tywin was back in the room.
“Jaime. Out.” Tywin’s hand came to Jaime’s shoulder, but Jaime shrugged him off. He pointed at
Pycelle and refused to budge.

“I want him out first. You don’t need two people gawking at her maidenhead.”

Tywin huffed in irritation and ordered Pycelle out. When the grandmaester was gone from the
room, Tywin raised a brow at Jaime. “Any other requests on behalf of your betrothed?”

“Some new armor? I do believe it went missing with my hand.”

“Out, Jaime!” Tywin pointed towards the door and Jaime did as he was told. His eyes darted back
to Brienne before exiting; an apology writ across his face.

When the door was closed, Brienne turned back to the midwife and awaited instruction. This was
certainly not something that her septa had prepared her for.

Of course, no one thought my maidenhead would be taken before marriage. This is absurd.

The woman smiled warmly at Brienne and gave instruction to remove her breeches and
smallclothes. “I know this is uncomfortable, but I’ll make this quick and painless for you. This will
only take a moment.”

True to her words, the assessment was quick. Despite the exam being awkward, Brienne thought
the woman was kind and she tried to make Brienne feel as comfortable as possible.

“You’re all set, m’lady. Why don’t you get your garments back on and I’ll let Lord Tywin know
that he need not have any concerns. May you have a blessed marriage.” Brienne wanted to laugh at
the absurdity of it, but the poor woman meant no ill will.

A blessed marriage indeed. Blessedly brief and false. The real prayer should go to Ser Jaime for
the demanded bedding. I do hope Lord Tyrion can come up with a solution.

Brienne put her clothing on as the woman slipped into the hallway. She couldn’t hear the
exchange, but she did hear Jaime ranting at his father.

“Are you happy now!? Fucking absurd. You insulted her for no reason.”

Oh gods. I best get out there and put an end to all that. He’s going to set his father off and risk our
plan.

Brienne moved into the hallway in time to see the tense scene unfolding between father and son as
Grandmaester Pycelle stood awkwardly to the side. Before Brienne could say anything, Jaime’s
head turned to her and he approached

Leading Brienne away from the room, Jaime grumbled as his father called out to them. “Be in my
office after you break your fast on the morrow.”

Ignoring his father’s instruction, Jaime spoke quietly at Brienne’s side. “Lets have a spar before
dinner. I’ve had enough of my family.”
 “This is your darkness”
Chapter Summary

Jaime spends some time with Brienne before supper with Tyrion and Sansa. Tywin
summons him to his study unexpectedly.

The training sword went flying from Jaime’s hand for the fifth time in less than an hour. He had
taken Brienne to the secluded breach that he used for sparring with Bronn over the last couple of
days. Frustration coursed through his body as he looked to the dropped weapon.

This is useless. My father had the right of it. I’ll never be as good.

“You held out longer than the last time.” Brienne’s voice played at conciliatory, but Jaime could
hardly contain the eyeroll that her words elicited.

“Good. That’s what I’ll tell myself when I meet the Stranger. ‘Well I didn’t die as quickly with my
left as I thought I would.’ Lovely.”

The words came out bitter and angry. He didn’t mean to direct his frustration at Brienne, but she
was the unlucky participant in his requested training session. For her part, Brienne did not cower at
his tone.

“Stop sniveling. You sound like a spoiled child. Yes, you are going to fail more often than succeed,
but you won’t improve if you sit there sulking.”

Jaime looked to her in shock. He forgot how obstinate and confident she could be in matters of
combat. It was talk of her appearance and worth that sent her cowering. Picking up the training
sword, Jaime held it back in position.

“Again, wench.”

They sparred a while longer until the sun began to set. Jaime knew it would be time to meet with
Tyrion for supper, and Brienne would likely want a bath beforehand. In truth, they both could use a
bath. While Brienne barely broke a sweat, Jaime’s clothing was damp with perspiration.

Heading back towards the Keep, Jaime glanced to Brienne at his side. The setting sun warmed her
already pinked cheeks from their workout. Strands of hair fell forward past her ear and stood in
stark contrast to her bright blue eyes.

Having realized earlier that day the truth of his feelings for Brienne, Jaime began to feel nervous
and unsettled beside her. When they were sparring, his mind was occupied, and he didn’t need to
dwell on his unrequited love. Without the swordplay to fill the silence between them, Jaime began
to fret over what to say.

He felt like a boy of ten with his first proper crush. It was mortifying at best. To make matters
worse, Jaime knew he couldn’t express any of his feelings to Brienne, knowing they would soon
part ways. He had little desire to feel vulnerable before her when nothing could come of it.

His instinct was to tease, but he did not want to hurt her. Any desire to inflict emotional wounds
died somewhere in the Riverlands.

How the fuck do I talk to her without insulting her or giving away my feelings? Does she even want
me to talk to her? Does she hate me? I’ve treated her like shit. Maybe that is where I should start?
An apology won’t give away my feelings.

Like a lush desperately grabbing the last mug of ale, Jaime spoke hurriedly; the pitch in his voice
rising as he began to ramble without any context or thought to his words.

“I didn’t mean what I said in the Riverlands. Well, I did mean to piss you off. I didn’t mean the
words themselves though. In fairness you did stab me in the thigh rather rudely, so that should
make up for it. Who throws a fucking dagger like that? Your stitching held up well enough I
suppose. At least that healed better than this useless stump at my wrist. Did your thigh heal? I
suppose it wasn’t as bad as the whole bear bit. It was quite amusing when Catelyn shot it though. I
hardly expected…”

“Ser Jaime.” Brienne’s words cut him off as her brows knitted in confusion. “What are you going
on about?”

Jaime’s mind went temporary blank as he processed her words.

Seven hells. What was my point? What am I even talking about? It’s bloody hot out there.

“I… I don’t know. I suppose I just meant to say that I’m sorry about all that. The things I said.”

Brienne snorted and looked back at the Keep. “You said a lot. I hardly know which thing you
mean, but you said nothing that was untrue. I don’t hold any of it against you.”

“I said awful things. I know that I did, but I was trying to distract you and escape. In fairness to me,
it seemed a reasonable approach. I had no idea you would keep to your oaths so doggedly.”

With a huff, Brienne looked to him as they walked. “As I said, you said nothing that I haven’t
heard before. You are not as creative as you think.”

“Fine well even if you think the utter nonsense that I spoke is true, I do not. I only mean to
apologize. It was unworthy. You are quite good with a sword.”

Brienne’s brows rose slightly at his words. A glimmer of hope that Brienne believed the words
sparked in Jaime. Then she looked forward wistfully.

“Most of the soldiers at Renly’s camp endured me, but they did not speak much to my capability
with a sword. I suppose Renly thought that I was good enough if he allowed me on his Rainbow
Guard. Thank you.”

What? That is her takeaway? She thinks that I mean to compliment her skills with a sword. I
suppose I did say that. And why does Renly’s stupid opinion matter?

“Well the two aren’t meant to go hand in hand. I’m not taking back the things that I said only
because you happen to be good at killing people. I just mean to say, that I don’t believe the cruel
things that I said to you.”

Brienne sighed and fixed her gaze back on the Keep. “Your respect means enough. You don’t need
to pretend the rest isn’t true.”

“I’m not lying to you.”

Brienne chuckled lightly as they walked. She seemed amused by his mounting vexation on the
matter. “Your brother. I’ve heard the things spoken of him. Is he a dwarf?”

“What? Yes. What does that have to do with anything?”

“Well he’s your brother and you obviously love him, or you wouldn’t be fighting so hard to keep
him safe. That doesn’t mean you would tell him that he is of average height. Similarly, just because
you respect that I’m not entirely without use in a fight, that doesn’t mean I’m suddenly not ugly.”

Jaime gaped at her for a moment. He hardly knew how to respond to that. “That is not the same.”

“How so?”

Stammering for a reply, Jaime rubbed the back of neck. “Tyrion’s height is a fact. He is a dwarf.
Your appearance is more subjective. You think Renly was handsome. I disagree.”

At his words, Brienne’s face reddened slightly, and Jaime hated it. He hated that she could still feel
so strongly for a dead man who would never appreciate her as he did.

An awkward silence fell over them as Jaime walked Brienne to her assigned room. When they
arrived, Jaime fidgeted with his dirty tunic and looked around the hallway. “I’ll have the staff send
up water for your bath. Tyrion’s room isn’t far from here. I’ll come back in an hour to get you.”

Brienne nodded and went inside. On the walk back to his room, Jaime instructed chambermaids to
have water brought to Brienne’s room and his room. Part of Jaime wished he had time alone with
Tyrion before supper. He wanted to bring up the issue of the bedding without the women present.

Taking Brienne’s maidenhead for the sake of their plan was hardly what Jaime wished to do. She
deserved to have the experience with a man she loved, and not the cruel Kingslayer who taunted
her for weeks on end. Not the man who she refused to accept compliments from. Secretly, Jaime
feared that Brienne might close her eyes and try to imagine Renly when the time came; if it came.

When Jaime was bathed and dressed for supper, he retrieved Brienne from her room. As she had
no belongings with her, the staff had provided Brienne with a clean pair of breeches and tunic.
Unfortunately, the tunic provided appeared to be made for someone the size of the Mountain.

The tunic hung loosely from Brienne’s chest and Jaime could immediately see how uncomfortable
she was. The healing scars from the bear were visible and Jaime caught a better glimpse of the
heavy freckling on her shoulders and the top of her chest, just above her concealed breasts.

Seven hells. This is going to be terribly distracting.

“Ah, I see they’ve raided the Mountain’s belongings. We can stop at my room and get you
something better fitted.”

Brienne’s face flushed slightly as she crossed her arms tightly against herself. “Yes, thank you. I
don’t wish to ruin everyone’s appetite.”

Jaime snorted and led the way to his room. “Hardly the problem.”

“What?”

Jaime’s head snapped to Brienne who was looking at him strangely.

Fuck. Did I say that out loud?

“What?” Jaime returned Brienne’s words with the same question.

“Oh. Nothing, I thought you said something.” Brienne shook her head and looked ahead as they
moved through the hallway. When the arrived at Jaime’s room, an attendant was standing outside
and knocking frantically.

At their approach, the staff member sighed in relief and moved quickly towards them. “Ser Jaime.
Apologies, your father sent me to find you. He wishes to speak to you in his study.”

Seven hells. Now what?

“Well I’m quite busy. He’ll need to wait.”

“He was rather insistent my lord. He means to speak with you alone. I can take Lady Brienne back
to her room.” The man’s eyes darted to Brienne and went wide as he appraised her.

With a huff of annoyance, Jaime opened the door to his room. “As I said, he’ll need to wait. We are
quite busy.”

The man’s face went ashen as was often the case when Jaime denied an ‘immediate summons’
from his father or sister. Moving into the room, Jaime searched his chest for another tunic that
would better fit Brienne.

Finding an infrequently used blue tunic, Jaime smiled and turned back to Brienne. He placed the
tunic in her hands. “A good color on you. That comment I did mean in the Riverlands. It may well
have been the only thing that I meant.”

Brienne’s face flushed at the words, but Jaime moved into the hallway before she could say
anything to the contrary. As he shut the door, Jaime glared at the attendant. “I know where my
father’s study is. I hardly need you following me about.”

“My lord… ser… he was quite insistent. I just don’t want to upset him. It’s my first week here.”
The man stumbled over his words and Jaime could do little more than roll his eyes and mutter to
himself.

“Fear not, I will bring my betrothed where she is needed and then I’ll go see what my father wants.
This truly is a most absurd hour to call on anyone.”

The door to Jaime’s room opened to reveal a much more relaxed looking Brienne. Jaime could
hardly help the wide smile that spread across his face as he took in the sight of her. Indeed, the
tunic complimented her eyes well. Her blond hair that was rapidly drying from the bath had a slight
curl to it and fell into her face as she shut the door.

“Come now, wench. I have to drop you off and visit my father, or this attendant’s head my well
explode at my delay.”

Walking towards Tyrion’s room, Jaime was pleased to find that the attendant scurried off on his
next errand. He inwardly cursed at the delayed supper. When they arrived outside Tyrion’s room,
Jaime leaned against the wall and banged on the door with his golden hand.

“Tyrion. My betrothed is with me. See to it you have breeches on this time.” At Jaime’s words,
Brienne’s eyes went wide and her jaw slack.

Jaime chuckled at her response and was pleased to hear Tyrion’s retort from the other side. “You
only asked that I cover my cock this time. I only bothered to find smallclothes.”
Brienne’s eyes went impossibly wider a moment before the door swung open. She averted her eyes
quickly as Tyrion beamed up at her. “Gods! You’re tall. The pair of you will be the downfall of my
neck. I barely reach the top of your legs.”

“Which is why we always wear smallclothes and breeches. If only you had done the same.” Jaime
smirked and inclined his head towards Brienne who was still looking away.

Pretending to admire the mortar holding together the stone walls, Brienne did not turn around until
Jaime poked her stomach. “We’re japing, wench.”

Tyrion coughed to draw Brienne’s eye to him. “Hello, Lady Brienne. A pleasure to meet you. I
promise to be on my almost best behavior this evening. Please, come inside.”

Jaime chuckled at his brother’s words and watched as Brienne again relaxed. He did enjoy getting
a rise out of her, even if he committed to ceasing his japes targeting her.

Tyrion introduced Brienne to Sansa and it pleased Jaime to see the wide smile on Brienne’s face.
Jaime was slightly less enthusiastic to see Bronn in the corner of the room, counting coin left out
on the desk.

“Tyrion… we have important things to discuss.” Jaime raised a brow at Tyrion and inclined his
head towards Bronn. With a snort, Tyrion waved at Jaime dismissively.

“My friend seeks coin, not power. I’m not so worried about him.”

At Tyrion’s side, Jaime watched Sansa lean towards Brienne and speak for their ears only. “If
you’re here, who is guarding…”

The implication was clear. Jaime quickly explained the situation and asked Tyrion to consider how
best to keep Lady Catelyn safe for the next couple of days. As Brienne got settled in, Jaime
indicated to the group that he would be back shortly and they should start supper without him.

Making his way through the hallway, Jaime prayed to the Seven for a quick visit with his father.

Gods. He likely wishes to make demands of the wedding tomorrow. I hope we get to break out fast
before he throws us before a Septon and demands consummation..

Arriving at Tywin’s study, Jaime knocked and awaited his father’s call for entry. When none came,
he knocked again. Tapping his foot impatiently, Jaime moved inside.

The sight that greeted him made Jaime stop in his track. There at the back of the room, Tywin lay
motionless. Blood pooled at his feet and as his head lay motionless on the desk. The steady
dripping of blood from the table to the floor was the only motion in the room.

Taking a step inside, Jaime walked forward slowly. He felt his breathing falter as he neared and got
a better view of the scene before him. It was then that Jaime realized Tywin’s right hand had been
severed. Pulling back his father’s shoulder, he saw that Twyin’s throat was slit open.

Jaime jumped back at the sight. Droplets of blood splattered his tunic as he gawked at the scene
before him. Dread pooled in Jaime’s gut as his mind raced.

What the fuck? I need to get the guards. Tommen isn’t safe. Someone is targeting the crown.

Running from the room, Jaime’s eyes darted around frantically. Walking towards the study was
Cersei, Qyburn, Grandmaester Pycelle, and Prince Oberyn. They were in the middle of a
conversation and two of the Kingsguard were at her back.

Calling out to them, Jaime pointed frantically. “Cersei! Someone has killed father! Call for the
guards!”

Cersei’s eyes went wide and the faces of the men flanking her mirrored her expression. Oberyn
moved ahead quickly to appraise the scene inside the study.

“He speaks the truth, your Grace. Someone has killed the Lord Hand.”

Looking to Jaime’s tunic, Cersei’s eyes went wide. “What is that blood doing on your shirt!? Did
you do this?”

Jaime reeled back as if slapped. “What? I didn’t do this! He summoned for me and I found him like
this!”

Grandmaester Pycelle looked into the room and then back at Jaime’s shirt. This is fresh blood,
your Grace. I must say, he and your lord father were having an argument today outside my study.
Something is not right here.”

“What!?”

Before Jaime could protest further, Oberyn spoke again. “Lord Tywin’s hand was taken. It does
seem rather strange, Ser Jaime, given you recent maiming.”

Jaime turned to Cersei for support.

S urely she can’t think that I did this. This would be a death sentence.

As his mind raced, Jaime struggled to wrap his head around the various accusations being thrown
at him. Then Qyburn spoke and Jaime felt his breathing falter.

“Ser Jaime has brought the enemy into the Keep. He, Lady Brienne, and the very much still living
Lady Stark, seek to remove Sansa from the Keep.”

Jaime’s eyes went wide in shock. His heart began to beat wildly at the thought of Brienne being
captured.

Seven hells. I need to get Brienne out. I need to get Sansa and Tyrion out.

Jaime turned to flee, but two gold guards were there. They grabbed his arms and Jaime struggled to
break free. One of the men landed a hard punch to his gut, sending Jaime gasping to his knees.

The two Kingsguard at Cersei’s back moved forward and grabbed Jaime’s arms, hauling him to his
feet. The two gold cloaks and two Kingsguard dragged Jaime towards the cells. He fought with
everything he had. His mind raced with fear for Brienne, Tyrion, and Sansa.

As they made their way lower into the bowels of the Keep, Jaime realized they were taking him to
the black cells. A torchlight from one of the guards lit the way. The area containing the cells
reeked of piss, shit, vomit, and death.

When they reached one of the cells, Jaime was thrown in violently. As his body landed hard
against the cement wall and floor, a lone torchlight came towards him. The face of his sister came
into view and a vicious smirk tugged at her lips.

“I suppose that swordfight will need to wait, brother. You’ll bed your whore in the Seven Hells
soon enough. If you behave, we’ll allow you to watch her execution before facing your own. I do
hope the accommodations are more comfortable than what Robb afforded you. Unfortunately, I
fear there may be a noticeable absence of light. This is your darkness.”
 “We will not abandon him”
Chapter Summary

Brienne, Tyrion, and Sansa receive an unexpected guest at dinner. They must make a
hasty retreat from the Red Keep.

As Jaime left the room, Brienne turned to appraise Tyrion’s reaction to the information regarding
Lady Stark. She could see the younger brother’s mind working rapidly as he stood in
contemplation. He began to pace and sip his wine, muttering to himself as he went.

“Bronn. You remember our dear friendly, Lady Catelyn, don’t you?” At Tyrion’s question the
sellsword guffawed and nodded.

“Aye. The worry is, does she remember me?”

With an amused nod, Tyrion continued. “Yes, well I need you to ride out immediately. I fear Lady
Stark won’t be safe there this evening. As Jaime said, you’ll need to show my room as an
indication of friend, not foe. Lets hope she doesn’t kill you regardless.”

Brienne’s eyes went wide and she wondered at what interaction Lady Stark had with the pair in the
past. Tyrion continued as she listened intently. “If you get stopped, tell the guards I’ve sent you to
retrieve some missing ledgers from Littlefinger’s brothel. Do you recall that tunnel system that
leads out to the harbor?”

Brienne looked at the sellsword and worried at her lip. She did not like the look of the man and
hardly trusted him with Lady Stark’s safety. Bronn’s lips curled into a mischievous smile. “Aye. I
remember the one. Brought me a nice lady down there the other week.”

Oh gods. This man is indecent at best.

Removing his House ring, Tyrion gave it to Bronn and Brienne relayed instructions on how to find
the cottage. As Bronn left the room, Tyrion turned his attention back to Brienne. A wide smile
stretched across his face.

“So, Lady Brienne. Lets discuss embarrassing things about my brother before he returns and sulks
about it.” Tyrion looked to Sansa and nudged her in encouragement, but Brienne could tell the
young woman was uneasy.

Brienne felt her face flush slightly as she smiled weakly. “Oh, I don’t think I’m one for such
stories. It’s usually me who is the subject of them.” Dismissing her words, Tyrion grabbed the
flagon of wine and poured Brienne a cup.

Brienne tried to move away her cup away, but Tyrion was too quick with the pour. “Nonsense, my
lady. My brother is the epitome of embarrassing. Let me provide an example. He and Cersei
looked so much alike as children, that as a lark they would sometimes wear one another’s clothing
so that Cersei could have her go at it in the yards. I must say, of all Cersei’s dresses, green was his
best color.”

Sansa snorted in amusement and Brienne had to bite back a laugh herself. At their reaction, Tyrion
smiled widely. “See. This is fun. So, Lady Brienne. Your turn. What nonsense did you endure
while traveling with my brother.”

“I’m afraid the trip was not so entertaining as all that. We were trying to avoid being captured or
killed. He certainly did complain a lot though.”

Tyrion chuckled lightly and took a sip of his wine. When he spoke next, his tone was laced with
sarcasm. “My brother was complaining? Never.”

Before they could continue, an urgent knock came at the door. Tyrion rolled his head dramatically
as though the intrusion physical pained him. “By the Gods, this better be good.”

When Tyrion answered the door, his voice was heavy with surprise. “Lord Varys. To what do we
owe the honor?”

“I need you all to come with me quickly.”

At the words, Brienne stood quickly. More hushed words were spoke between Varys and Tyrion,
but Brienne could not hear them. On instinct she reached for the hilt of her sword, and she felt her
fingers dance over the lion head on the hilt. She glanced at Sansa’s whose eyes were heavy with
worry.

Tyrion looked back at them and spoke in a tone that brokered no argument. “Quickly ladies. We
need to leave.”

Brienne felt her heart falter. “What of Ser Jaime? Your brother said…”

Tyrion pulled the door open further to reveal Varys; a bald man in robes with a stern look on his
face. “I’ll explain as we go. Quickly, before the guards make their way here.”

Putting a firm hand at Sansa’s back, Brienne urged her forward. “Come along Lady Sansa. I’ll
guard your back.”

The young girl moved forward quickly and followed Tyrion into the hallway. The made their way
silently towards a back staircase which Brienne had not been seen previously. Making their way
down the stairs, Brienne worried over what was going on. The castle was quiet save for the
occasional footsteps strolling the hallways at a leisurely pace.

This doesn’t feel right. Something is wrong. We can’t leave Ser Jaime behind.

“Lord Tyrion. What if something has happened to your brother? I should go back for him once we
get Sansa and you to safety.”

Tyrion glanced back and placed a finger to his lips. When he replied, his voice barely reached her
ears. “Lets hear what Varys has to say once we are someplace safer.”

They continued to follow the winding stairwell and arrived at a darkened hallway in the bowels of
the Keep. They moved quickly and passed by several doors. Brienne’s eyes darted back and she
took mental note of the steps they had taken.

I need to get back to him. I can’t leave him like that.

Moving towards one of the doors, Varys pushed it open and ushered them inside. Descending
another set of stairs, Brienne appraised the room. Rows of torchlight cast long shadows against the
walls. One wall had shelves of various vials and jars containing substances that Brienne did not
recognize.

A small tunnel-like opening at the back of the room came into view as Varys grabbed a torch and
led them forward. Once inside the small tunnel, Brienne began to feel claustrophobic.

I don’t like this at all.

Just ahead, Brienne could hear Tyrion and Varys speaking in hushed tones. Brienne followed
blindly for some time, keeping her eyes on Sansa. The young girl looked slightly panicked and
Brienne tried to check on her throughout the hasty retreat.

Tyrion soon slowed to join Brienne and Sansa. “My father is dead, and my sister has accused
Jaime, throwing him in the cells. They’ve taken Jaime to the black cells, and they’ll be looking for
Lady Brienne next. An attendant was supposed to return Brienne to her room after summoning my
brother. Lord Varys is taking us to a ship on which he planned to leave the city on the morrow. We
can discuss a location for refuge as we consider our options.”

Brienne gasped at the words. “We can’t leave him in there!”

Tyrion raised a defensive hand. “First lets get Lady Sansa to the boat. Bronn shouldn’t be far off
with Lady Catelyn. The area that I instructed Bronn to bring Lady Catelyn to, is near the same
docks that we move towards now. That tunnel leads from the docks and ends inside the Keep, not
far from the cells. I’ll have Bronn fetch Jaime. Varys has a set of keys to every room in the Keep
on his person.”

At the words, Brienne nodded despite a deep fear taking root in her gut. “I’ll go with Bronn.
They’ll likely encounter guards and he could use another sword.”

Tyrion nodded. “Thank you. We need to move quickly. When they are unable to find you, they’re
likely to get word to the gates and halt any travel in and out of the harbor.”

The rest of the journey to the port passed in relative silence. At the end of the tunnel were some
loose rocks that Varys began to dig through. He retrieved several black cloaks from a pile behind
the rocks and handed them out.

Brienne marveled at how well-prepared Varys was for a swift exit. Pulling the cloak over her head,
Brienne followed silently as Varys guided them towards the port. It was not the main port that she
had assumed they would head towards. Instead, Brienne saw a modest port that housed several
smaller ships.

Varys guided them under the cover of night to a ship at the rear of the docks. He spoke quickly to
the lookouts atop the gangway and waved their group on. “We need to get you all below deck and
out of sight.”

Brienne shook her head and looked to Tyrion. “I need to wait for Bronn and Lady Catelyn. I’m
going back for Ser Jaime.”

Varys glanced to Tyrion with a warning gaze. Speaking on Brienne’s behalf, Tyrion pleaded with
Varys. “Please. I can’t leave my brother behind. He saved me from certain death, and I won’t leave
him now.”

Varys nodded in understanding and Tyrion pointed out the direction of the tunnel. Moving quickly,
Brienne made her way to the described passage that would lead into the bowels of the Keep.
Ducking into the cave, Brienne sat on a rock to await Bronn and Lady Catelyn.
Not before long, Brienne heard a horse approaching. Pressing her back against the wall, Brienne
peered around some rocks that jutted out slightly. Once she recognized the figures as Catelyn and
Bronn, she moved to the tunnel entrance. She was surprised to see a third figure with them on a
second horse.

At the sight of her, Bronn’s brows furrowed. “Ain’t ya supposed to be with the fancy Lannister
lords?”

“We need to leave the city immediately. Lord Tywin has been murdered and Queen Cersei has
thrown Ser Jaime into the black cells.” Looking to Lady Catelyn, Brienne spoke urgently. “Lod
Tyrion and Lady Sansa are on a ship in the harbor just over there.”

Brienne pointed her finger in the direction of the docks. Then her attention turned to the third
person with them. He looked more like a boy than a man. “Who is this?”

Bronn placed an arm around the boy and tugged him close. “This fucker ‘ere is Ser Pod of the
Magic Cock. I needed him to help me get out of the Keep on Tyrion’s orders. He’s a good lad. I’ll
‘ave him bring Lady Catelyn to the ship.”

Appraising the boy, he seemed affable enough. A well-meaning smile pulled at his lips when his
eyes landed on Brienne. Swallowing thickly, Brienne turned to Lady Catelyn. “My lady, I can’t
leave Ser…”

Catelyn put up a hand, dismissing Brienne’s comment. “You’ll need more than two.” Catelyn
pulled back her cloak to reveal her dagger. She glanced at Pod and quickly assessed how well the
boy was armed. “We will not abandon him.”
 “I’m not going to Essos”
Chapter Summary

Jaime receives some visitors in the black cells and an escape is attempted.

Jaime heard a commotion outside the black cells. He imagined it was the guards bringing Brienne
down to await her death. His heart broke at the thought of her capture and he scolded himself for
putting her in such a position.

This is my fault. I shouldn’t have made that comment to Cersei. I shouldn’t have made a fucking
scene outside Pycelle’s office. I’ve doomed her. I’ve doomed them all. I truly am the stupidest
Lannister.

The clanging of cell keys echoed off the walls and Jaime squeezed his eyes tightly. A pair of
sapphire eyes closing forever flashed in his mind. Anger rose in his core at the thought of failing
another oath and failing to keep Brienne safe.

Then the cell door creaked open and a torchlight illuminated the small cell. Four faces came into
view; all panting from exertion and covered in droplets of blood. Bronn, Brienne, Catelyn, and
Tyrion’s squire looked down at him.

What is going on? They’ve captured them all? Why are they covered in blood and… Free?

Catelyn surged forward and grabbed Jaime’s arm. “Get up, Jaime. Gods you’re always so slow to
move when there’s a looming threat.”

Jaime’s mind was racing as he looked in confusion to Catelyn and his apparent rescuers. “You’re
here for me?”

Bronn snorted as they moved quickly from the cell. “No, we’re here for the other damsel in
distress.”

They came for me? Why?

They moved quickly from the corridor of the black cells and into the hallway. Eight dead guards
littered the floor; their blood spreading out and pooling in the small cracks of the stonework. Bronn
led the way by torchlight, and they quickly arrived at the passageway that Jaime knew would lead
out towards the small port on the Blackwater.

Once in the tunnel, they ran quickly though the winding space. Only the sound of their collective
panting ricocheted off the walls. The musty smell of the damp rock assaulted Jaime’s nose as he
ran behind Pod and Bronn.

Jaime glanced back at the women behind him. Brienne kept looking over her shoulder, ensuring no
guards were following them. Catelyn looked as determined as he had ever seen the woman.

“Where are my brother and Sansa?”

Catelyn’s eyes darted to him before she looked forward again. “Waiting for us on the ship.”
Shock coursed through Jaime’s bod as the words hit him.

They could have left. They truly did come back for me.

Catelyn huffed a small laugh and it was then that Jaime realized she had been looking at him. The
Stark matriarch shook her head as they ran. “You kept your oath to me. We won’t abandon you
now. We don’t leave anyone behind.”

Gods help me, I may as well be a Stark now. I am not wearing those dull greys.

The run through the tunnel seemed to stretch on for eternity. When they emerged, Jaime breathed
in the fresh sea air as the group rushed towards the docks. The small port was still quiet and devoid
of guards scouting the area. In the distance, they could hear the voices of Gold Cloaks searching
the area.

Making their way down the dock, Jaime followed as Bronn turned onto the gangway of the ship at
the end. The unmistakable face of Varys came into view as he spoke urgently to one of the men on
the top deck. Once they were on the ship, the man gave the command and his crew began quickly
pushing back from dock.

Jaime followed Varys and Bronn below deck. When his eyes landed on Tyrion and Sansa huddled
around a large table, he breathed properly for what felt like the first time since he left the cell.
Tyrion surged towards Jaime and embraced him. As Jaime sank to his knees, he wrapped his arms
tightly around his brother.

My only true sibling is here with me now. That woman back at the Keep is not Cersei. That is not
the girl that I grew up with.

A slight sadness for his lost twin tugged at Jaime’s heart. He knew that what he felt for Cersei now
was a familial love. What it always should have been. Memories of their time at the Rock flooded
his mind and he had to bite back a sob.

She truly would have seen me dead. For the first time in my life, I know how Tyrion feels.

Tyrion spoke into Jaime’s neck as he held him tightly. “Thank the gods! I thought they wouldn’t
get you out in time before the guards reached the port.”

Stepping back from the embrace, Tyrion’s eyes darted to the group at Jaime’s back. “Thank you
for saving him. I know you had little reason to.”

Jaime looked over his shoulder and observed Catelyn embracing Sansa who was sobbing into her
mother’s shoulder. The Stark matriarch spoke soothingly and rocked her daughter.

Brienne was at their side and turned to Tyrion at the words. “We had ample reason to. He saved us
in the Riverlands. Me more than once.”

A warmth spread through Jaime. He had never expected loyalty nor care from anyone who wasn’t
a Lannister. His entire life, it had been engrained in Jaime that the other Houses were below them.
That they could trust no one save their own, despite using their wealth and power to amass allies.

As Jaime reflected on the matter, Bronn moved close to Brienne and appraised her. “Ya know ya
way around a sword, m’lady. That was impressive back there. Maybe we can ‘ave a go at it
sometime.”

Jaime jumped to his feet and glared at Bronn, but before he could speak, Varys moved to the table
and sat down. Extending a hand, he spoke to the group. “We have much to discuss and decisions to
make.”

Everyone slowly took a seat around the table. Jaime quickly took the seat next to Brienne,
effectively ensuring Bronn did not have the chance. The sellsword instead sat next to Tyrion and
Pod. Jaime’s effort did not go unnoticed by Tyrion; nothing ever did. His brother raised an amused
brow, but Jaime ignored it.

To Brienne’s right, Catelyn sat beside Sansa and held her daughter close. He was pleased to see the
mother and daughter reunited despite their House being at war with his.

Is it my House still? What orders will Cersei give the West now? Will they follow her?

Varys spoke in his usual, subdued tone. “My little birds brought me word of your plans to arrange a
marriage between Lady Brienne and Ser Jaime for the purpose of removing Lady Sansa and Lord
Tyrion from King’s Landing. I must say, you did a fine job of hiding away Lady Catelyn.
Unfortunately, others have had their eyes on Ser Jaime’s movements.”

Jaime groaned inwardly at the words. He was more than aware of Tywin’s eyes around the Keep.
Before he could contemplate how far word of Jaime’s visits to the cottage reached, Varys spoke
again.

“Littlefinger had been attempting to secret Lady Sansa out of the capital during the chaos of the
Red Wedding. I have reason to believe that he and the Tyrells were behind King Joffrey’s death.
Grandmaester Pycelle has been missing some most important potions in this study and very few
have access. Despite his effort, Lady Sansa did not follow the fool who Littlefinger sent for her at
the wedding.”

Jaime’s eyes went wide at the words. “I saw him. He was trying to get Sansa away from the table
when Joffrey died.”

Pulling her head off her mother’s shoulder, Sansa spoke in a tear-soaked voice. “Ser Jaime speaks
the truth. The man told me that he would get me to safety. I didn’t know what to do, but Ser Jaime
signaled that I shouldn’t follow him. He took me back to the Keep.”

Varys nodded at the words. “Littlefinger was most displeased. It was his spies who followed Ser
Jaime and went for Lady Brienne. They meant to kill her so that Sansa had little option but to go
with Littlefinger’s next escort. I do not believe he is aware that Lady Stark lives. My sources tell
me he is soon arriving at the Vale to court Lady Lysa.”

Jaime glanced at Catelyn and saw her take a deep breath. “My sister has loved Petyr for many
years. She was pregnant with his child once and my father made her take moon tea to end the
pregnancy. She has never been the same since. She will happily accept his hand. I do believe he
meant to see Sansa to safety. To my sister.”

Varys’ return expression betrayed his trepidation. “I do believe that he meant to bring her to the
Vale, but I question his motives. It was Littlefinger who betrayed your husband.”

At the words, Catelyn flinched. “Petyr is like a brother to me. We grew up together.”

Jaime snorted which caught Catelyn’s attention. With a slight shrug, Jaime met her eyes. “You’re a
fool if you trust Littlefinger.”

Tyrion spoke quickly to back his brother. “As we discussed in the Vale, Lady Stark, your sister is
much changed. You’ve seen her for yourself now. She grows madder by the moon turn.”
Before Catelyn could reply, Varys spoke again. “They have the right of it. Littlefinger has a thirst
for power. His eyes have been on the throne for years. His network of spies is vast. I imagine he is
playing both sides; Lysa and the crown. He will leverage both for his personal ambitions. I fear he
may have had nefarious intent for Lady Sansa.”

Catelyn huffed in irritation. “My children are missing, prisoner, or dead. I need to reclaim the
North and I need to sway my sister to my cause. I have little option but to go to the Vale.”

Jaime and Catelyn began to argue over the approach, but Varys put up a hand to quell them. “This
is far from your only issue. It is only a matter of time before word reaches Littlefinger and the rest
of Westeros that Lady Catelyn lives. I only heard of her survival when my little birds overheard
Qyburn’s conversation with Cersei.”

Looking directly at Jaime, Varys continued. “I don’t know what discord happened between the
queen and her brother, but she sought out Qyburn earlier today after Tyrion’s trial. She has offered
the man the crown’s protection and access to the dungeons for his experiments. In return, he
confessed the location of Lady Catelyn, the plan to secure Sansa, and Jaime’s behavior in the
Riverlands.”

Jaime scoffed at the words. “My behavior!? As in my attempt to get home and out of the enemy’s
camp? Ridiculous.”

Varys raised a challenging brow. “And what a hasty retreat home it was. According to Qyburn, you
commanded the Bolton soldiers back to Harrenhal to rescue Lady Brienne. You aided Lady
Brienne and Lady Catelyn in their disposal of Lord Bolton’s men. He heard that you lost your
sword hand for Lady Brienne along the way. That Bolton’s men called her the Kingslayer’s …”

Jaime felt his neck redden slightly as knowing eyes landed on him. He could feel the heat of
Tyrion’s stare and amused smile. Bronn chuckled at Tyrion’s side, but it was Catelyn’s
unrestrained laughter that ignited his ire.

Cutting Varys off, Jaime growled in response. “Alright, thank you! We get it. So what are you
saying? You think Cersei killed our own father because Qyburn told her some things she didn’t
like. That is absurd.”

Varys raised a challenging brow. “You’ve been away for some time Ser Jaime. Your sister and
your father have been at odds since your capture. I do believe she thought that your return would
aid her cause. Your father planned to marry her off to Ser Loras Tyrell. He spoke with her after
today’s trial and informed her that she would be sent to Highgarden and away from King Tommen.
Lord Tywin felt her behavior of late has been too erratic. Her response to your betrothal too severe.
Since your return, her mood seems to have soured and she has been more volatile.”

Jaime considered the words. There was nothing in the world as important to Cersei as her children.
Upon his return, Tyrion admitted to sending Myrcella away and the devastating impact it had on
Cersei. Seeing Joffrey die before her eyes nearly broke her. Being told that she would be sent away
from Tommen must have caused her to snap. Between that and Jaime’s refusal of her, he suddenly
understood how she may have contributed to her father’s death.

“She couldn’t have acted alone. Much of this only happened today. There is no way that Cersei
could have orchestrated it all.” Jaime looked to Tyrion for support, but he seemed lost in thought.

With a shrug, Varys continued speaking. “No, I doubt she was working alone nor the one to
orchestrate it. There are many people who wish to see your family removed from power. My little
birds have been monitoring several people of note these past weeks. Regardless, now that Cersei
knows Lady Catelyn is alive, nowhere will be safe. You are all an accomplice in this now. In
Tywin’s death. In Lady Stark’s survival. You are traitors of the crown.”

The words hung heavy over their group. Jaime pinched the bridge of his nose and considered their
options. Looking to Tyrion, Jaime silently implored his brother to come up with a plan. He always
had something clever to say.

Now would be the time, Tyrion. That brain of yours is needed.

Jaime could see Tyrion’s mind working as he took in all the information. Before he could speak,
Varys offered an unexpected suggestion.

“The crown’s grip on Westeros has been weakened since the final years of King Robert’s reign.
With your father removed, the crown is at its weakest. Many will plot against King Tommen and
your sister. This ship was prepared to take me to Essos on the morrow and I can take you all with
me. I intend to back the rightful heir to the Iron Throne. Daenerys Targaryen. She has amassed an
army and three dragons. She seeks to return to her homeland and reclaim the throne.”

The words caught Jaime by surprise. Shock coursed through him at the thought of the mad king’s
daughter on the throne.

“No!”

At his outburst all eyes snapped to Jaime. The only people who didn’t look shocked by his outburst
were Brienne and Varys. He kept his eyes fixed on Varys and continued.

“Are you mad!? You mean to bring that girl here!? To Westeros?”

Varys waited for Jaime to stop talking before continuing. “I understand your hesitation in
trusting…”

Jaime again cut off Varys’ words. “The mad king’s daughter!”

“She is not her father. I have had spies following her for some time. Yes, she has the Targaryen
temper, but she is not Aerys nor her brother. I believe she would be a good queen.”

Surprisingly it was Brienne who spoke at his side. “Ser Jaime has the right of it. You can’t trust
Aerys’ daughter; particularly with dragons.”

Varys sighed and leaned back, crossing his arms. “I know you have little cause given what Aerys
planned to do in the city.”

Not for the first time, Jaime was caught off guard by Varys’ words. “What do you mean? You
knew what Aerys intended to do with the wildfire?”

“Wildfire?” Catelyn leaned forward; her eyes darting between Varys and Jaime. Her interruption
mattered little to Jaime as his eyes remained fixed on Varys.

The Spider looked apologetically to Jaime and nodded. “Sadly, I did not know until it was too late.
My little birds could not sing songs from Maegor’s Holdfast, but I found other ways to gain
understanding of King Aerys’ plans. Yes, I knew of the wildfire. I knew of the secret preparations.
I knew of Aerys growing paranoia. It was me who secured the safe passage of Viserys and
Daenerys to Essos. I worked in concert with a friend across the Narrow Sea to see them housed
their safely. I regret that I could not get them all out in time.”
“And what about getting the people of King’s Landing out!? You told Aerys to bar the gates!”
Jaime was incensed. He hardly noticed the eyes darting between him and Varys. Even Tyrion was
shocked into silence.

“We had a plan. We did not anticipate things to play out as they did.”

We? Who the fuck is ‘we’?

Before Jaime could continue to question Varys, Brienne spoke again. “You knew why Ser Jaime
stopped him, and you said nothing?”

Jaime’s head snapped to Brienne. He had not considered that Varys knew the truth and said
nothing. With an audible exhale, Varys glanced to Jaime. “I only heard that you killed Rossart and
then Aerys. I just assumed… Your father was at the gates! I did not think until later, that perhaps it
was because of the wildfire.”

“What wildfire? Jaime… what happened?” Catelyn’s tone was more demanding than before.

Continuing to keep his eyes trained on Varys, Jaime shook his head and stood abruptly from the
table. “Drop me in the middle of the Narrow Sea for all I care. I’m not going to Essos.”
 “We both love women taller than us”
Chapter Summary

Catelyn learns more about Aerys and the wildfire. She reflects on some things and the
group decides what to do.

Catelyn’s mind raced from the overload of information shared by Varys. They had all sat silently
around the table as the Spider shared the truth of Aerys. He shared the depths of the mad king’s
thirst for fire and blood. His penchant for abusing Rhaella. His growing paranoia.

Tyrion pinched the bridge of his nose. “How did no one see it sooner? Why did no one move to
stop him?”

With a sigh, Varys shrugged. “I was working on a plan. Aerys drove away any sane allies he had;
your father among them. Lord Tywin was never a good man, but he recognized that Aerys was a
madman and unfit to rule. The only reason he didn’t join Robert’s crusade was your brother’s
precarious situation.”

Catelyn looked to Tyrion in confusion, but she was surprised to see the younger Lannister was
nodding in understanding. She glanced back at Varys and questioned the statement. “What do you
mean precarious situation? He was a member of the Kingsguard. The youngest to be appointed to
the position. He was highly regarded and valued.”

Varys chuckled softly and offered a sympathetic smile. “And why do you suppose Aerys wanted
Ser Jaime on the Kingsguard? The act kept Tywin at heel. He held the Rock’s eldest son and
preferred heir. Ser Jaime was left behind to guard the king, not due to his skill, but because he was
a pawn. Had Aerys known Lord Tywin was moving against him, Aerys would have killed Ser
Jaime. Trust me, Ser Jaime became aware of the situation not long after he donned the white cloak.
He was too young. He didn’t handle any of it half as well as the older knights.”

“What do you mean?” Tyrion’s question reflected Catelyn’s thoughts.

The Spider’s lips turned down. He rubbed the creases of his forehead before he spoke. “My little
birds indicated he lost his stomach after every burning and guard duty outside Rhaella’s chambers.
We all saw the expression on his face. He was present, yet not. I don’t know how to describe it.
The other knights could better compartmentalize Aerys’ madness, but not your brother. He was
disconnected somehow. Then when he was there, he was changed. Less youthful and bright-eyed.
More hostile and loathing.”

I’ve seen those looks. How could I have read him so falsely all these years? When his eyes aren’t
glazed over like that, he’s cruel when his mood sours. He’s like a wounded animal caught in a
trap, lashing out at anyone who comes near.

The group discussed plans, but Catelyn could help hardly focus. She slowly made her way to the
top of the deck where Jaime had fled after declaring his refusal to go to Essos.

Moments after Jaime left, Brienne followed, missing Varys’ tales of Aerys’ cruelties and madness.
It was obvious to Catelyn that Brienne knew the truth of why Jaime killed Aerys. She wondered if
Brienne was the only one who knew prior to the disclosure from Varys.

That or she is the only one who cared. Clearly Varys had his suspicions and said nothing. He just
stood by and allowed Westeros to declare him Kingslayer.

The night was clear and the sea relatively calm. As she approached the pair, Catelyn saw that they
were speaking quietly with one another. The sound of her footsteps against the weatherworn deck
alerted the pair of her approach.

Their conversation stopped as she leaned against the mast to Jaime’s left. Jaime and Brienne sat on
the deck their backs supported by some crates. They both looked out to the sea as she joined them.

“Lady Brienne, they’re asking for you below deck. It seems our group is electing to part ways from
Lord Varys. He is bringing us to Tarth.”

In the moonlight, Catelyn could see their brows furrow, but neither protested. Brienne cast a final
glance at Jaime before standing and bowing to Catelyn. At the sound of Brienne’s retreating
footsteps, Catelyn sighed and looked out across the sea.

“Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

Jaime snorted and crossed his arms; resting his elbows atop his knees. “No one would have
believed me.”

They’re both broken. The pair of them.

Catelyn sat down beside Jaime and studied his face. “You were not much older than Robb when
you slew Aerys. You were just boys in a man’s game. The pair of you.”

Catelyn did not want to ask the next question, but she had to. It had come to her in thought once
before, but she never voiced it. “Didn’t Ned ask you why?”

Jaime’s face was bathed in moonlight, but Catelyn observed a shadow pass over his features.
“Your honorable husband judged me guilty the moment he saw the king’s blood on my blade and
cloak.”

Catelyn let the words wash over her. The young boy with dreams of knighthood saw his greatest
deed villainized. Perhaps the greatest deed of any knight that she could recall.

He did what he dreamed of and was reviled for it. Why didn’t Ned ask him?

From the information learned below deck, Catelyn felt a pang of sympathy for the man beside her.
Still, she struggled to move past the man he became. He still did terrible things on behalf of his
House. He still pushed her innocent boy from a window to conceal his illicit affair.

How much of it was driven by his corruption and not his nature? He saved me. He saved Brienne
twice. He prevented her rape. He kept his oath to ensure my daughter’s safety. He betrayed his
own House for our cause. Seven hells. Why does he have to be so complicated?

“Ned should have asked. I’m sorry he didn’t. I’m sorry for what it has done to you.”

Jaime shrugged at her words in feigned indifference. “It matters not. It’s done. The city wasn’t
bathed in wildfire. That’s all that matters. Now I get the honor of being both a Kingslayer and
Kinslayer. Delightful.”
Catelyn scoffed. “It matters to me. I know it would matter to most. Unfortunately, those it didn’t
matter to, determined your fate. You did a brave thing. I’m not certain most men in your position
would have had the courage. And on the Kinslaying front, it is a slander from a vindictive twin
already reviled by Westeros. It will be righted soon enough.”

Jaime didn’t say anything, but he swallowed thickly and glanced away. Catelyn considered the day
they all had; particularly the Lannister brothers. Theirs was a House divided. They lost their father
who was arguably one of the most influential men in Westeros. The man who orchestrated the
downfall of her family.

Catelyn was not saddened to hear of his death, but she did feel for Jaime and Tyrion. She could not
bring herself to offer her condolences, but she could try to bridge the gap between them.

“Well I suppose there is one thing we can agree on in all of this.”

At her words, Jaime looked to her. It was then that she saw the sadness in his eyes. He was hurting
at the turn of events and she didn’t know how to make it better for him.

“Robert was a miserable shit, and somehow this is all his fault.” Jaime chuckled at her words. It
was a slight relief to Catelyn to see him a bit more himself. Sensing a shift in his mood, she
continued.

“Think about it. If he asked you what Ned failed to. If he took his reign seriously. If he didn’t drink
and whore his way through Westeros. If he left Ned and my family out of his issues. If he didn’t
get mauled by a fucking boar. None of this would have happened. He started a war for love but had
little desire to rule.”

Nodding at her words, Jaime sighed. “I’m certain that I still would have found a way to fuck it up.
He and Cersei would have fought. She would have sought me out and I would have given in like a
great dolt.”

Jaime winced as he spoke, and Catelyn found the opening she needed to ask something that
confused her in Varys’ earlier words. “What happened with you and Cersei earlier today?”

With a grimace, Jaime looked out to the sea. “I did what I should have years ago. I told her ‘no’. It
seems that didn’t go over well.”

Seven hells. He’s truly in love with Brienne. Gods help me, but he might even be good for her. They
would be good for each other.

“Well from the sound of it, this was only one of many things that set her off. You shouldn’t blame
yourself for it. You expressed not feeling much attachment to Joffrey but let me tell you… having
lost a child myself, I can’t begin to tell you what it does to you. It’s an all-consuming grief and can
make a mother do horrible things. I’m certain what has happened to Cersei regarding her own
children is what truly prompted this. Do you still love her?”

Jaime’s brows furrowed at the question. Taking a deep breath, he shook his head. “Only as I was
meant to, but if she truly had a hand in killing our father, I’m not certain I can forgive that. She
meant to see Tyrion killed. She meant to see me killed. She threatened…”

Cutting himself off, Jaime looked away. Catelyn had a feeling that she knew what he was about to
say.

“She threatened to kill the woman you love?”

Jaime’s head snapped to her. “What!? No. What are you talking about?”

Catelyn raised a knowing brow. “Come now, Jaime. I grew up with a younger brother. I raised
multiple boys. I’ll admit, your approach is a bit more juvenile than most, but I suppose there
wasn’t much wooing involved in your prior relationship.”

Jaime stood up abruptly and shook his head. “I don’t know what you’re on about. I’m tired. I’ll see
you on the morrow.”

Standing from the deck, Catelyn bit back a laugh. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone. Not that it
needs telling. I do believe the only person ignorant to your overt affections is the young woman
herself.”

Jaime flinched at her words. He gaped at Catelyn as though she had gone mad. Without another
word, Jaime stormed away and made his way below deck.

Catelyn smirked as she watched Jaime scurry down the stairs. “When you’re ready for advice, you
know where to find me.”

Dolt. Rickon would do a better job of courting a woman and he is but a babe.

After taking a moment to look up at the stars, Catelyn moved below deck herself. She wished to
speak more with Sansa and devise a plan to find her other children.

When she moved below deck, she was surprised to find her daughter smiling and laughing with
Tyrion and Bronn. Brienne was indulging Pod, who was peppering the young woman with
questions about her training. Not surprisingly, Jaime was nowhere to be found.

Breaking into the conversation, Catelyn sat down and put an arm around her daughter. It was such
a relief to hold her again and be assured of her health and safety.

I lost Robb. My poor boy. I saved Sansa though. My efforts were not in vain.

Catelyn reflected on the conversation from earlier. Varys had offered sanctuary in Essos with
Daenerys, but Tyrion refused to go east on account of Jaime’s refusal. He didn’t want to leave his
brother alone with no kin nor House to protect him. He knew that Jaime was rash and bound to do
something to get himself killed.

With Tyrion refusing to go, Pod and Bronn refused to go east as well. Both seemed strangely loyal
to Tyrion which amused Catelyn given what she knew of Bronn. Catelyn would have loved seeing
Sansa safely delivered to Essos as nowhere felt safe in Westeros, but she had Arya, Bran, and
Rickon to worry about.

While Catelyn had no proof that they were still in this world, she could not rest until their fates
were discovered. Until then, she would not see herself removed from Sansa again; particularly
when the option involved an unknown Targaryen. They had instead agreed to treat with Daenerys
when the time came.

Like Jaime, they did not trust the young Targaryen on Varys’ word alone. They did however feel
they owed Varys the opportunity. He had saved their lives that night and it was a debt they would
see repaid.

If somehow Catelyn could reclaim the North, that would give Daenerys the opportunity to treat
with them and, perhaps, the West. Tyrion thought they could sway their aunt to their cause and
reclaim some, it not all, of the West. Varys seemed pleased enough with the commitment and
would call on them when the time came.

Varys had intended to sail directly across the Narrow Sea to Pentos, but he would see them to Tarth
first. Afterwards, he would continue south to Tyrosh before chartering another ship to Meereen.
For the crew’s troubles, Tyrion offered them additional coin to see the Spider safely east.

To throw off the crown, Varys had planted several maids throughout the Keep whispering of the
group’s escape West. When he discovered the plot earlier that day, Varys got word to his little
birds and the crew of his potential need to flee sooner and with more refugees. The effort would
buy their group some time, but even still, Catelyn knew they could not stay on Tarth long.

With any luck, Lord Selwyn would grant them temporary protection as they sorted through the
best path forward. Catelyn hoped to form an alliance with Brienne’s father as both Varys and
Tyrion confirmed Selwyn’s influence in the Stormlands.

Catelyn desperately needed an ally and preferably one that could gather an army. While Catelyn
still trusted some Northern vassals, others she did not. She needed to supplement the forces from
trusted northern Houses with new allies.

Listening to the conversation around the table, Catelyn couldn’t help but roll her eyes. Tyrion
raised a brow at Catelyn and teased. “Lady Stark, we’ve come so far. Can I call you Cat? Mayhap
you prefer goodmother? In fairness, it would be difficult for things to get worse between us when
you tried to have me thrown through a moon door by your delightful sister. I suppose we have that
much in common. Insane sisters.”

Bronn snickered at Tyrion’s side. The returning look from Catelyn suggested she had not forgotten
Bronn’s involvement in Tyrion’s escape from the Vale.

“No, you may not call my goodmother. To be clear, Lysa wanted you thrown through a moon door.
Gods, you’re as annoying as your brother.”

Tyrion feigned offense at the words and clutched his chest. “I can’t possibly be as annoying as
Jaime. Lady Brienne, which of us do you find less annoying? Me or my brother?”

Brienne’s cheeks flushed slightly at the sudden attention from the group. Attempting to divert the
unwanted focus, Catelyn tried to grab Tyrion’s attention. She was surprised at Brienne’s teasing
reply, however. “I find you’re equally annoying.”

Tyrion guffawed at the words. “I like you! I knew we would get along. A marvelous goodsister
you’ll make.”

At his words, Brienne flushed an even deeper crimson. “Oh, no. The marriage was just a cover to
get you and Sansa out. Thankfully, that isn’t necessary now.”

Tyrion’s eyes darted to Bronn; both men’s brows raised at the comment. Catelyn was uncertain to
what extent Tyrion knew of Jaime’s affections for Brienne, but she didn’t want the young woman
enduring the younger Lannister’s scrutiny on the matter. When Tyrion caught scent of something,
he was like a hound. He was one of the most intelligent and perceptive men that Catelyn had ever
met.

Catelyn spoke quickly and changed the topic. “So, Lady Brienne. Are you excited to see your
father? I must say, I am eager to meet the man who raised such a fine young woman.”

Maintaining the flush at her cheeks, Brienne’s eyes darted around the room as though awaiting the
laughter to begin. “I’m honestly not certain how he will react, my lady.”
He better be thrilled, or I may strangle him myself.

“Oh, nonsense. I’m certain he’ll be delighted to see you. I understand how he must feel, having to
be so far away from your daughter and knowing her to be in harm’s way.”

With a small nod, Brienne took her leave to take rest. Catelyn worried over how Selwyn would
react to everything. His daughter left to serve Renly’s war and was returning home an enemy of the
crown with other refugees looking to continue a war.

The travel to Tarth from King’s Landing did not take long. With favorable winds, they arrived in
just under two days. As the first rays of sunlight stretched over the island looming before them,
Catelyn stood on the deck and inhaled the sea breeze.

She looked down the railing and observed Jaime and Brienne staring out at the island before them.
Jaime was pointing at something in the distance with a teasing smile on his face. With an eye roll
that could have capsized the ship, Brienne exhaled loud enough to reach Catelyn’s ears.

Gods. This should be an interesting visit indeed. I’ll give the dolts their privacy to flirt
unknowingly.

Catelyn smirked to herself as she looked back at the island before them. Tyrion and Sansa were
walking the length of the deck towards her. Their eyes were heavy with mirth as Tyrion rambled
about some godsawful story from Tyrion’s time with Catelyn in the Vale.

Another great dolt. I can’t get rid of these Lannister brothers.

At her back, Bronn regaled Pod with a crass tale of his last conquest in King’s Landing. A giving
brunette named Alys. When Tyrion and Sansa reached her, Catelyn raised a brow.

“What awful story have you been telling my daughter now?”

Tyrion smile widely and leaned against the railing. “It was a lovely tale, but not so important.
What is important however is my latest realization. My brother and I have more in common than
one would think. Obviously, we are both beautiful…”

At Tyrion’s words, Sansa covered a small laugh and looked to her feet. With a raised brow, Tyrion
continued rattling off his list of similarities to Jaime. “We both charmed our way into the heart of
one Lady Catelyn Stark of Winterfell.”

“Oh gods. Stop it. I can’t endure this.” Catelyn grunted and looked back to the approaching island
before them.

Undeterred, Tyrion kept his list going. “We are both seasoned battle participants.”

“What!? I was there for your first kill. You do recall that?” Catelyn shook her head as she huffed in
mock annoyance.

“I’m sorry, but did I not save you from that assailant, Lady Stark? You seem awfully picky about
the details of my prior kill list. Now, as I was saying… We both saved you from certain death.”

I suppose that is fair. I’ll give him that one.

Pleased at her conciliatory nod, Tyrion grew giddy with excitement. His next words came out in a
conspiratorial whisper. “We both love women taller than us.”
 "Show me Tarth’s cliffs"
Chapter Summary

Brienne sees her father and introduce her group. She receives an unexpected visitor
before lunch.

Chapter Notes

Double posting this and chapter 27. This chapter is a bit more of a setup Brienne POV
chapter,

Brienne stood in the great hall at Evenfall with the small group of refugees at her back. The men at
the docks had been surprised to see her, and they promptly procured horses for the group’s travel
up the hill towards Evenfall.

Castle staff scurried through the hallway outside. Their whispers echoed off the marble walls and
towering ceiling. The castle was as she remembered it. Full of light and activity, but never quite
feeling like home. She could feel the judgmental stares of the household guards who lined the
room.

They likely thought to never see me again. More likely, they hoped to never see me again.

Glancing back to her group, Brienne offered a weak smile at the Stark women. They had been
standing there for some time, awaiting her father’s arrival.

Then a booming voice filled the hallway. Her father’s rumbling laugh was as unmistakable as his
frame. When he came into view, Selwyn’s smile fell and he startled. His eyes went wide as Brienne
looked to him.

Did the staff not tell him who was waiting for him?

Selwyn was just as Brienne left him. Tall as any man, broader than the Mountain, sun-weathered
skin, bushy brows, and a thick blonde beard that matched his hair. His blonde locks fell just to his
ears and his eyes were a blue to match her own.

The group’s shared shock at his size became apparent. Brienne prayed to the Seven that the
Lannister brothers and Bronn kept their mouths shut, but she received no such luck. It was Bronn
whose mumbled words reached her ears first.

“Well fuck me sideways. Ain’t he a tall one.”

Selwyn walked slowly towards Brienne as though seeing a mirage. When he stopped before her,
Brienne looked up into his eyes and saw the hesitation there. There was a hopefulness in his voice
that broke her heart.

“Are you home for good then? Have you come to do your duties to Tarth?”
Brienne swallowed thickly and lowered her voice to barely a whisper. “I’ve sworn my sword to
Lady Catelyn Stark.”

With a heavy sigh, Selwyn’s eyes darted to the women over her right shoulder. He shook his head
and pinched the bridge of his nose. “One rebelling liege for another. The crown will take your head
someday.”

Brienne closed her eyes briefly and took a deep breath. “That’s actually why we are here.”

Selwyn’s eyes were filled with warning as he looked to Brienne. He grumbled something
unintelligible and bit his lip. Taking a deep breath, he placed a large hand on her head. “You’ll be
the death of me, child. Introduce me to the rebels that I now house in defiance of the crown.”

Brienne turned and extended a hand towards Lady Catelyn. “This is Lady Catelyn Stark of
Winterfell and her daughter, Lady Sansa Lannister.”

“Sansa Stark. We mean to amend the forced marriage.” Tyrion chuckled at Catelyn’s correction as
the Stark matriarch took a step forward and smiled at Selwyn. Taking her hand and placing a kiss
to her knuckles, Selwyn nodded to Catelyn before greeting Lady Sansa.

The Starks were a Great House and her father always spoke well of them. He believed them to be
decent and honorable people; an opinion that Brienne hoped would earn an alliance.

Next in line was Tyrion. Given Lady Catelyn’s reaction, Brienne was uncertain how best to
introduce him. “This is Lord Tyrion Lannister. He and Sansa are technically wed for now, I
suppose.”

Brienne’s face flushed at her awkwardness. She hated making such formal introductions where
there were so many peculiar dynamics at play. Then she came to the introduction she fretted over
the most. Ser Jaime.

“This is Ser Jaime…”

“Yes, I’m aware of the Kingslayer. I’ve heard things that I wish to speak with you in private about,
Brienne.”

Brienne’s cheeks pinked at the words. She prayed to the Seven that Lord Tywin had not written of
the betrothal. It would be another perceived failure when she had to tell him the truth of it.

“His name is Ser Jaime Lannister. Not the Kingslayer.” Brienne’s tone brokered no argument. The
words caught her father by surprise as he looked to her from over his massive shoulder. His brow
raised in question, but the look in his eye was deadly.

“It’s true then. Rumors at the docks name you the Kingslayer’s Whore.” Selwyn’s features
remained cold as he turned his attention back to Jaime.

“Your daughter is no man’s whore. I would think that you know her better than to believe such
filth.” Jaime’s tone was laced with disgust at the accusation.

Selwyn took a menacing step forward. His eyes were fixed on Jaime. It was the first time that
Brienne saw Bronn look startled. The sellsword’s eyes darted forward as though willing away the
tension.

“You dare speak to me of how well I know my children? Were it not for your quality of person,
such a dishonor would not be bestowed upon my daughter at her acquaintance with you.”
At the words, Jaime hung his head to the floor. His face darkened with anger, but he bit his tongue.
Unable to tolerate her father’s cruelty, Brienne chastised him. “His quality of person? Mayhap you
don’t know me so well, father. The man who raised me, made certain that I only surrounded
myself with those of the highest caliber.”

Selwyn huffed a laugh and looked back at Brienne. “Well now that is the defiant girl I know. We
will have words on this matter, Brienne. Tell me of the other two. ‘Well fuck me sideways’ I can’t
wait to hear what you have to say about this one.” Selwyn stepped before Bronn who had the good
graces to look embarrassed at his earlier words.

With a grunt of distaste, Brienne shrugged. “That is Ser Bronn of the Blackwater. I make no claims
of his caliber.”

Bronn grabbed his belt and hummed. “Lovely island ya ‘ave here, m’lord. Quite the castle too.
Always wanted one of these.”

Seven take me now. He can’t be serious.

Selwyn shook his head in consternation before looking to Pod. The boy stood nervous and eager
for his introduction. With a small smile, Brienne introduced the young man. “This is Podrick
Payne. He is Lord Tyrion’s squire.”

Pod smile earnestly at Selwyn and bowed before the man. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, my lord.”

Selwyn huffed a small laugh and patted the boy’s head. “Good lad.” Speaking as he appraised the
group, Selwyn gestured towards the hall. “I imagine you lot are tired and hungry. There is much
that I wish to discuss with you, but first I’ll have the staff show you to the rooms. We’ll have food
prepared within the hour or two.”

Calling to someone in the hallway, an attendant entered quickly, and Selwyn instructed him as to
where to put the guests. Within moments, several other staff members came in to escort the group
towards the guest wing. Their group moved into the hallway and up the large marble staircase
leading to the second floor.

As they reached the landing, the hallway split into two directions. To the left was the family wing
and to the right was the guest wing. One of the staff members turned to Brienne and bowed. “My
lady, your father kept your room untouched since you left. You’ll be there.”

Brienne smiled and nodded. “Thank you. I’ll just ensure Lady Catelyn and Lady Sansa have
everything they require in their assigned rooms.”

“What? Not concerned about us?” Jaime raised a brow as the group continued down the hallway.
“Very rude, wench.” Choosing to ignore him, Brienne watched as the castle staff directed each
member of the party into their own room.

Looking at Tyrion and Sansa, one of the attendants took pause. “Will you require separate rooms,
Lord and Lady Lannister?”

Catelyn bristled at the title. “My daughter can stay with me. Their marriage was arranged and as
you can see, she is quite young. Thank you.”

Tyrion clapped his hands. “Ah, delightful! I haven’t slept on a bed in moons! I must say, people
assume that because I am a dwarf, I don’t mind a chaise lounge, but I have had the worst crick in
my neck! If this keeps up much longer, I fear that I’ll be even shorter.”
Sansa chuckled at the words and Brienne could sense that Catelyn appreciated the insight, even if
Tyrion presented it in jest. The Lannister brothers were put in rooms next door to one another with
Pod and Bronn afforded a room each just beside them.

After ensuring that the Stark women were comfortable and had what they needed, Brienne made
her way to her room. She dreaded seeing it. It was a reminder of her many failings.

As indicated, the room was as she left it. Brienne always had her room decorated modestly. She
was not one for amassing material possessions, but she did have some childhood toys and
belongings in a trunk at the foot of the bed.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Brienne replayed the reunion with her father.

He gave Podrick the same greeting that he did me. He has never been one for physical affection,
but he greets strangers in a similar manner.

As Brienne sat on the edge of her bed and looked out at the cliffs in the distance, she heard the
door creak open. Brienne assumed it to be one of the castle staff coming to pour water for a bath,
but she was shocked to see Jaime.

He moved uninvited into the room and shut the door behind him.

How improper! What is he doing!?

“Did you get lost, Ser Jaime? This is not your room.”

Brienne watched as he appraised the space. Amusement was writ across his face as he ignored her.

Gods, what will he mock me for next? I preferred hating him when the insults didn’t hurt as much.
This is now much worse than Renly. Why can’t I shake these unwanted feelings for him?

Moving to the trunk, Jaime flipped it open and Brienne gasped in horror. “Stop! What are you
doing?” Brienne moved to close the lid, but Jaime was already rifling through it.

“Gods, I know there is a doll in here. I just know it.” As expected, he pulled out a doll. The doll
that Brienne once thought so pretty. A doll that she hoped to resemble, but Septa Roelle was quick
to point out how unlike the doll she was.

Many nights Brienne spent awake looking at the doll and then studying her own features in the
mirror. Every night she listed out the ways in which she was not the doll. A way to remind herself
of what she was, so that she may steel herself form the insults she was likely to hear.

If I reduce my appearance to little more than facts, the insults can’t hurt.

“I knew it! Such a girl.” Jaime raised the doll triumphantly in the air before Brienne snatched it
away.

Holding the doll in her hand was like standing near Cersei at the Keep. Her every flaw highlighted,
and her awkwardness accentuated. Putting the doll behind her back, Brienne glared at Jaime.

“I said, what are you doing!?”

With an innocent shrug, Jaime looked back to the trunk. “I just wanted to see where young Brienne
spent her days basking in the exhilaration of knocking the boys into the dirt.”

Something caught his eye at the bottom of the trunk. Panic coursed through Brienne at what he
could possibly have his sights on now. “Oh, look at that. It can’t be… can it?”

Jaime reached inside and pulled out Brienne’s maiden cloak. Unable to tolerate his teasing, Brienne
grabbed the cloak and tried to pull it from his hands.

“Let me see, wench. Is this your maiden’s cloak? Come now, it can’t look half as bad as the one
my sister tried to improve. She felt the heirloom needed adjustments and I must say, I’ve never
seen a more demented lion than hers. Somewhat fitting in hindsight.”

They pulled back and forth on the cloak until the fabric began to tear. Jaime let go quickly and
stammered an apology. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin it. I can fix it. Well... that’s a lie. I was
shit at sewing even when I had the right hand. Mayhap one of the Stark women. I’ll take it to
them.”

Brienne appraised the cloak and shook her head. “There’s nothing to fix. There was never need for
it anyway and there are no other Tarths to use it.”

Jaime suddenly became awkward. His confident teasing now as tattered as the cloak. “I hoped we
could spar. Tyrion is being boring; talking about the history of Tarth and what he knows of your
line. Bronn is the last person I need associate myself with after his earlier conduct. Your father is
already unimpressed with me as it is. Pod won’t stop smiling, and honestly its creeping me out.”

Brienne’s brows furrowed slightly. “They’ll be serving a warm meal soon enough. I don’t think
there’s time for all that.”

Jaime scratched his head and looked around the room. “Right. Maybe afterwards?”

Brienne nodded in agreement, thinking the matter resolved, but Jaime stood rooted in place. “I
just… thank you for speaking in my defense to your father. His concerns weren’t unfounded.”

A slight blush crept up Brienne’s neck. “Yes, of course. He doesn’t know you and he shouldn’t
pass judgement. I made that mistake once and you proved me wrong.”

Jaime’s brows furrowed slightly, but he quickly regained his composure. “So, where did young
Brienne and her friends play or go to hide from her frighteningly large father? I do believe he
would make the Mountain look like a babe.”

Brienne rolled her eyes but shrugged. “The other children didn’t much enjoy playing with me.
Surprising… I know.” Brienne tried to speak in jest, but Jaime looked at her with pity. She hated
that look. Trying to see it erased, Brienne scrambled to change topics.

“The cliffs were fun to jump from. Into the sea of course.” Brienne fumbled nervously with her
hands. She was never quite sure of where to put them when she spoke. They seemed as large and
awkward as the rest of her.

At the information, Jaime’s eyes went wide. “You jumped from the cliffs? Your father let you do
that?”

“My father was quite busy with managing Tarth. He hardly knew how I spent my time.”

A wide smile tugged at Jaime’s lips. “My father was the same. Well… he wasn’t managing Tarth.
If we had married, he certainly would have tried though.” Jaime chuckled, but Brienne could hear
the discomfort in his voice. Shaking his head, Jaime collected himself and spoke again.

“I jumped from the cliffs at the Rock. Show me Tarth’s cliffs?”

 “How could I forget”
Chapter Summary

Brienne shows Jaime the cliffs. Their small group has a very interesting set of lunch
guests

Chapter Notes

Double posting this and chapter 26 (chapter prior)

Jaime leaned over the edge of the cliff and smiled to himself. The height of the cliff was similar if
not slightly greater than the cliff he would jump from at the Rock. The waves below however were
far more violent; likely on account of the location and converging seas. Glancing back at Brienne
he smirked and pretended at the cliff’s insignificance.

“Not so impressive as the Rock.”

On cue, Brienne’s eyes rolled dramatically. Getting a rise out of Brienne was something that Jaime
could never get enough of. Looking back over the edge, he appraised the seas below. It was high
tide and likely the safest time to jump.

“How did you get back up? I don’t see a beach below.”

Brienne stepped to his side and pointed towards a rock ledge. “There’s a set of rocks that look
much like steps just to the right. They wind up to a small path that leads back towards Evenfall.”

Jaime’s eyes scanned the area. He used his arm as a shield to block the sun’s rays as he squinted
into the distance.

There it is. Perfect.

Stepping back from the cliff’s edge, Jaime toed off his boots before removing his tunic. Brienne’s
eyes went wide at the sight. “What are you doing!?”

Jaime smiled and reached for the laces of his breeches next. “Sunbathing. Lions do enjoy the sun.
Keeps our hair as beautiful as our faces.”

“Put your clothing on! Are you mad?” When he glanced up at Brienne, her cheeks were red, and
she was making a point to look anywhere but at him. With a running leap, Jaime moved past her
and over the cliff’s edge.

The thrilling sensation of his stomach dropping hit Jaime as he fell. As the water below neared, he
closed his eyes and held his breath. When he broke through the surface of the water, it was like a
thousand knives to his body. The shock to his system pushed a loud gasp passed Jaime’s lips when
he came to the surface.
Fuck! That’s cold. Definitely a greater height than the cliffs at the Rock.

Jaime began to tread water and look around for the described rocks that could see him back to the
castle. His gold hand weighed him down and Jaime groaned in irritation at the prosthetic. Looking
up, Jaime was surprised to see the incoming figure of Brienne.

Ducking his head slightly, Jaime felt the water lap hard against his side from where Brienne had
entered the sea. A loud laugh pushed passed his lips when she surfaced; a scowl writ across her
face.

“What are you doing!? You’ve never jumped from these cliffs!”

Jaime chuckled and splashed water at her. “I think I’m capable of falling into some water
effectively enough, wench.”

“If you fell just a touch to the left, you could have killed yourself. The seabed is raised there.”
Brienne’s face was red with anger as she splashed water at him in retaliation.

Jaime looked below the clear waters and noted the area she mentioned just off to the side.

Oh. Well that would have been most unfortunate. Far worse than dying in a bathtub.

“Well the good news, is that I have a very hard head. I likely would have done little more than
destroy the seabed.” Jaime grinned at Brienne, but she was hardly pleased. She took off in a rapid
swim towards the shore and climbed out.

She was in naught but her tunic and smallclothes. The materials clung tightly to her body and
framed her shape. Her perky breasts and pebbled nipples jutted out below the wet tunic and Jaime
felt his cock stir.

Oh gods. Not now.

Brienne looked back at him expectantly, but Jaime was too busy trying to think of all the most
repulsive things he could to get his situation under control. Unfortunately, Brienne continuing to
stand there with water dripping off her body was not helping.

Focus. Think horrible things. Starks. Aunt Genna’s baking. Everything Bronn says.

With the aid of the cold ocean and a steady stream of uninspiring thoughts, Jaime began to swim
more confidently towards the shore. He tried to avoid looking at the wench as he climbed out. The
breeze sent a shiver down his spine as they began their hike up the rocks and towards the path.

Glancing at Brienne, he could tell that she was still miffed. Jaime tried to calm her, but he hardly
understood the issue.

“I’ll admit, it was a greater drop than at the Rock. The water is fucking cold. Did you do that a
lot?”

Brienne glanced back at him, but she kept marching towards the path. “Not too much after a
certain point. I mostly sat on the cliff’s edge when I needed some time alone.”

“When did you first jump?” Jaime tried to keep up, but he cursed the distance her long legs were
putting between them; her feet better adept at hopping from rock to rock as though having taken the
path hundreds of times over.
“I was four.”

“Four!? You can’t be serious! You could have killed yourself! How would you even understand
the tides or depth to ensure safety?”

With a small voice, Brienne spoke without turning around. “My brother taught me.”

The one who drowned. Great. Seems reasonable. Although, I’m not meant to know that. I certainly
don’t want her to realize that I overheard her private conversation with Catelyn.

“You have a brother?” Jaime feigned ignorance as he sprinted to catch up with her. He raised a
brow as their shoulders brushed slightly.

“I had a brother. He died.”

“Oh. I’m sorry to hear it. How did he die?” Jaime continued to play at ignorance, hoping she would
open up to him.

Something dark flashed across Brienne’s face. She held her gaze forward as they climbed higher
up the path. The sun was warm on their backs and Jaime thanked the Seven for it. He was drying
off rapidly and eager to get his clothing back on.

“He drowned when he hit his head on that raised seabed. He didn’t angle this jump properly.”

Understanding washed over Jaime. Her reaction to his recklessness became clear as a heavy silence
fell over them. They moved off the path to retrieve their clothing from the top of the cliff. Putting
their garments back on, Jaime glanced back over the edge.

As the sun poked out from the clouds, he could more clearly see the raised seabed below the
water’s surface. They walked back towards the castle and Jaime tried to the improve her mood.

“On the bright side, we’re now bathed. A bit salty, but I certainly smell far less like the black cells
than I did before.”

Brienne snorted loudly; her eyes darting to him. “You couldn’t have been in the black cells
anywhere near an hour.”

“Well I’m not accustomed to such ghastly accommodations.”

“You spent a year in Robb’s Stark’s camp, chained to a post and covered in your own piss and
shit.”

“And I can assure you that I complained daily. Very discourteous lot, the Starks. No one ever
honored my request for a bath, linen changes, a shave, or wine.”

Brienne chuckled and covered her large lips at his ridiculous words. It was the only reaction he
looked forward to more than her eyerolls and indignant scowl.

Stepping into Evenfall, Jaime saw the large frame of Selwyn walking towards them. He took one
look at their physical state and shook his head.

“Gods. Not much changes, does it child?” Extending a hand towards the dining hall, Jaime
followed Brienne inside. They were the last to arrive, and all but five seats were taken. A seat at
the head of the table was clearly intended for Lord Selwyn. To that chair’s immediate right, an
empty seat which Jaime assumed for Brienne.
There were two empty chairs to Lady Catelyn’s left and a chair next to Tyrion across on the other
side of the table. Jaime was surprised when Brienne took an empty seat to Lady Catelyn’s side.

When he moved to sit next to Brienne, Tyrion feigned offense, but a knowing smirk spread quickly
across his face. Unfortunately, Bronn had taken notice Jaime’s seat selection as well.

Sitting down, Jaime heard Catelyn whisper to Brienne. “Sit next to your father, Brienne. I don’t
mind.”

“The seat isn’t for me, my lady.”

What? Who the fuck would it be for?

Selwyn took his seat at the head of the table. After calling for the servers to fill the wine cups,
Jaime saw the door to the hall swing open. A young woman with a curvy figure, dark hair, and blue
eyes sauntered inside. An older woman and a young child moved quickly behind her; the boy
appearing no older than five.

At the woman’s entry, Selwyn beamed. “Ah, there you are.” The lord stood and pulled out the
chair for his much younger companion. Jaime glanced to Catelyn and Brienne to appraise their
reactions.

Did he take a new wife? Gods, the woman looks closer to the wench’s age.

For her part, Brienne hardly seemed phased. She took a sip of wine and kept her eyes trained on her
empty plate.

Catelyn however appeared as scandalized as Jaime felt. Jaime leaned back in his chair to meet
Catelyn’s eyes; a question writ across his face. When Catelyn glanced at him, she shrugged in
shared bafflement.

From the corner of his eye, Jaime saw Brienne stiffen. He followed her eyeline to the older woman
who was carrying the small boy. The woman took the open seat beside Tyrion and placed the boy
on her lap. As they settled, the boy had a mischievous smile that made Tyrion’s smirk appear
grave.

Selwyn looked to the room and gestured at the woman to his side. “This is Lady Alaine. Her son
Rayland is just over there with Septa Roelle. Brienne, you remember Septa Roelle, don’t you?”

Seven hells. This bitch is about to die.

Brienne played with the fork at her setting. Without looking up, she muttered just loud enough for
her father’s ears. “How could I forget?”
 “Time to write Aunt Genna”
Chapter Summary

Sharing a meal with Septa Roelle does not go smoothly. The group is forced to
consider other options.

“Is Lady Alaine your wife, Lord Tarth?” Catelyn stared at the older lord who looked quite cozy
with the young woman at his side.

A bitter laugh pushed passed Brienne’s lips at Catelyn’s question. “Lady Aliane indeed.”

“Is she not a lady, Brienne?” Selwyn’s tone was stern as he glared at Brienne.

Brienne feigned innocence as she took a long sip of her wine. “I wasn’t aware you were affording
your whores the title is all. This one must truly be talented.”

Catelyn bit her lip and looked to the woman at Selwyn’s side. Aliane’s face was red with rage as
Selwyn continued to stare down Brienne. With a warning tone and narrowed eyes, the older lord
spoke to Brienne.

“Mind yourself, girl.”

“I’ve been minding myself all my life, father. How long has this one been here now? Obviously not
the year yet. I will say, it’s a first that you’ve taken one with a child.”

Again, Selwyn spoke with warning in his voice. “Brienne, enough.”

For the first time since her entry, Aliane spoke at Selwyn’s side. “Yes, I have a child. A proper
child unlike what the gods left your father with.”

Selwyn leaned over and whispered angrily into Aliane’s ear, making the woman take pause. It was
too late though. Catelyn could see the damage was done. The blank expression betrayed by
wounded eyes was fixed firmly on Brienne’s face. It was a look that Catelyn saw often on the
journey through the Riverlands with Jaime.

Catelyn couldn’t stomach the scene playing out before her. That this man would take a whore who
speaks ill of his daughter, and place the same woman before Brienne, grated on Catelyn’s nerves.
It wasn’t her place to comment, but she would.

“Lord Tarth, I’m confused. This woman is not your wife nor is her child yours, yet you treat her as
you would the lady of the House. Your daughter is in a guest’s seat after having been at war
fighting honorably on behalf of Tarth. Yet you allow this… woman… to speak ill of her? If you
aren’t proud of your daughter’s accomplishments, then you simply don’t deserve her.”

Selwyn flinched at the words. The anger previously in his eyes faded to shock. Before he could
comment, Septa Roelle spoke from across the table.

“What Lord Selwyn deserves is a proper heir for Tarth; not some mannish woman stomping
around the mainland pretending at being a knight.”
Jaime’s voice cut through the room like a roaring lion. “Pretending? She has accomplished more
good in the past moon turn than you’ve accomplished in your entire, miserable life. Oh wait… I
have a cock. Surely any commentary that I offer must be a lie. Shall we get your wrinkled ass a
mirror to look into?”

At Jaime’s words, Septa Roelle’s eyes widened and she looked to Brienne in horror. An awkward
silence hung over the room as Selwyn tried to regain control.

“Now I don’t know what nonsense is going on here, but I offer you all protection on my island, and
you insult my friend and Brienne’s childhood septa.”

Catelyn felt her blood boil and she turned to Selwyn. “That friend insulted your daughter in your
home. That poor excuse for a septa did more harm to your daughter than opposing armies would
one another on the battlefield. If that is your attitude, then you deserve these wretched women.”

Standing abruptly, Aliane looked to Selwyn in shock. “They insult us in our home! We should see
them back to the docks. I told you that thing would only bring trouble.”

Catelyn’s eyes darted to Brienne who stared down at her silverware. She muttered under her breath
to Catelyn. “I’m sorry, my lady. I fear we’ll find no alliance here.”

If this man chooses his whore and that evil septa, I’ll steal Brienne away from here and name her
a Stark.

Selwyn’s voice cut through her thoughts. “This is not our home. This is my home. I’ll sooner see
you to the docks. Get out!”

At the words, Aliane stepped back as if slapped. She called out to Rayland and extended her hand.
“Sweetling, lets go. Papa Tarth is unwell.”

The young boy hopped off Septa Roelle’s lap and ran to his mother. Scooping the young boy into
her arms, Aliane stormed out of the room and from the castle.

Septa Roelle squealed from across the table; the sound catching Catelyn by surprise. Catelyn’s
head turned in time to see the septa grab a napkin as Tyrion righted his wine cup and spoke false
apologies.

“Oh my word. Clumsy dwarf that I am. I couldn’t reach the wine with these stubby arms. Here, let
me get you another napkin.”

Catelyn bit back a laugh as Tyrion ‘accidently’ knocked over Septa Roelle’s wine glass in a false
attempt to reach for another napkin at the top of the table.

“Oh fuck. Not again.” Tyrion stammered. At Tyrion’s side, Bronn guffawed at the younger
Lannister’s clear intent.

“You did that on purpose! You wretched imp!” Septa Roelle jumped to her feet and struck Tyrion
across the face.

At the act, both Jaime and Sansa stood abruptly and leaned across the table.

Sansa screamed at the woman, catching Catelyn by surprise. “Don’t touch my husband!”

Before Catelyn could recover from the shock of Sansa’s words, Jaime spoke at her other side.
“Touch my brother again and I’ll punt you from the highest cliff. Now apologize to him and Lady
Brienne.”

Roelle’s eyes flashed with indignation as she spat at Jaime. “Kingslayer! Of course, a man as vile
as you would threaten such a thing.”

“Then consider me vile too, because my foot would gladly join him in the act.” Catelyn stood
upright and leaned across the table. “Any septa who harms a child as you did Brienne should be
sent to the deepest of the seven hells!”

“By the Seven what is going on here!?” Selwyn pounded the table and gaped at the sight before
him.

Without looking to Selwyn, Catelyn pointed an accusing finger at Roelle. “This creature told your
daughter that any husband bedding her would not ensure her comfort in the act. That she should
keep the room dark for his comfort. That she should be on her stomach, so he needn’t look upon
her face!”

Jaime growled at Catelyn’s words and stared at Roelle. Keeping his eyes locked on the shocked
septa, Jaime added to Catelyn’s accusations. “Sounds to me like someone speaking from her own
experience. I feel worse for the horse forced on her though.”

At Roelle’s shocked expression, Jaime continued speaking. “She told your daughter that any
compliments she receives from men are lies. That her truth is in the mirror.”

Selwyn gasped at the accusations and looked to Brienne. “Is this true, Brienne? Do not lie to me,
girl.”

Catelyn glanced at Brienne. The young woman kept her head down in shame as her face flushed a
deep red. “It’s alright. I understand that she only meant to prepare me”

“Prepare you!?” Selwyn rounded the table to Roelle who began to cower and backpedal. “My lord!
I only meant to serve you and Tarth. I mean… look at her! I did the best that I could. The gods did
not give me much to work with.”

Jaime snapped at her; his face contorted in rage. “The first truth you speak. The gods did not give
you much to work with. They gave the best of themselves when they fashioned Brienne. Any man
not wishing to look upon her is an inadequate fool likely of relation to you, you miserable sow.”

Red wine dripped from the woman’s clothing as the room grew silent. Selwyn grabbed the woman
by the fabric of her dress and tugged her angrily towards the door. Calling for a guard, Selwyn
threw Roelle into the man’s arms. “Place her in the cells! I’ll deal with her later.”

A victorious smile spread across Catelyn’s face. At her side, Jaime waved his flesh hand at Roelle.
“Goodbye Septa Roelle. Lovely to have met you.”

Tyrion’s voice rose over Septa Roelle’s screams as she was dragged to the cells. “Does anyone
have more wine? A great tragedy truly, but mine seems to have spilled.”

A small voice to Catelyn’s righthand side reached her ears. “Mother, what is going on?”

Placing a calming hand on Sansa’s head, Catelyn spoke soothingly. “Hush now, child. I’ll explain
later.”

Storming back towards the table, Selwyn came to a halt behind Brienne’s chair and pulled it
backwards. “To my study, Brienne. We have things to discuss in private.”
Without a word, Brienne stood from her chair and kept her eyes fixed on the floor. Catelyn could
see the shock on Brienne’s face. The Stark matriarch wanted nothing more than to comfort the
young woman and erase all the horrid things Roelle had told her in youth.

Catelyn observed Jaime’s worried eyes as they followed Brienne to the door. It was as though
Brienne was walking to her death. Her shoulders rolled in on herself and Selwyn stormed towards
the door to hold it open for her.

Taking her seat, Catelyn sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. She replayed the scene in her
head and worried over how quickly things spiraled out of control. After the way she spoke to Lord
Tarth, it was clear that they would receive no aid.

Catelyn spoke to no one in particular; regret heavy in her tone. “I apologize. I do fear that I cost us
an ally we had desperate need of. We may need to reconsider our approach.”

Thoughts of Bran and Rickon trapped at Winterfell under House Bolton’s command consumed
Catelyn. Thoughts of Arya on the mainland, frightened and alone, tore at her heart. As if shaking
her from the spiraling thoughts, Jaime’s voice filled the room.

“How many Northerner soldiers remained when you freed me from Robb’s camp?”

Catelyn looked to Jaime as he stared vacantly at his wine cup. Her brows furrowed in
contemplation as she tried to recall the last war council that Robb held before she left. With a heavy
sigh, Catelyn relayed what little she knew.

“I hardly know how many survived the wedding at the Twins, but we had around 18,000 at our last
count.”

Jaime snorted at the words and Catelyn was ready to argue with him, but Jaime only shrugged and
muttered. “It felt like more.”

Tyrion offered his opinion from across the table. “I don’t know if this is true, but I heard that
nearly three-quarters of the Northern army was killed after the wedding. Of the quarter returning
home, I imagine most were Boltons.”

Catelyn gasped at the words. So much loss of life.

Before she could dwell on it further, Jaime began nodding as if in thought. “So even if we’re
generous and afford a wide range of 5,000-10,000 to contend with, we don’t know if all would
bend to their new Warden.”

Twirling the wine cup in his fingers, Jaime continued to think out loud. “I led a contingent of
15,000 while father led the larger group closer to 20,000. I don’t know how many the West has
left, but I imagine they are greatly dispersed between the Riverlands, King’s landing, and the West.
I could likely rally Addam’s contingent. We might have enough to remove the Boltons.”

Catelyn’s brows raised in surprise. Her eyes darted between Jaime and Tyrion; the younger
brother’s mind visibly working as he listened to Jaime. Glancing back at Jaime, Catelyn spoke with
disbelief in her tone. “You would fight the Boltons for Winterfell?”

A hint of guilt touched Jaime’s features as he played with the cup of wine in his flesh hand. “I
would fight them for Bran. I suppose I owe him that much. And the other one… Stickon or
whatever his name is.”

Catelyn grunted in exasperation at Jaime’s continued game of pretending to not know her
children’s names. Unlike the past however, she only felt appreciation for him. It was as though she
had entered a poppy induced dream and would soon wake up in the Riverlands, no closer to getting
the girls back and with Jaime still very much being the Kingslayer.

Then reality hit her. “I appreciate the thought, but you’ve just been accused of murdering your
father, the Warden of the West and Lord of Casterly Rock. Cersei has likely sent word West. In
absence of their liege lord, they will certainly follow the crown’s orders.”

Tyrion smiled widely as he kept his eyes fixed on Jaime. “Jaime did not murder himself. King
Tommen already named him Warden of the West and Lord of Casterly Rock when he released
Jaime from the Kingsguard. My father would have had the announcement sent that day. He was
quite eager to ensure that my brother took on his duties. Regardless of what my sister claims, the
men are more likely to follow Jaime’s orders than hers; particularly if our aunt backs his
innocence. They are Jaime’s men. They have never cared for Cersei.”

If he can rally even part of the West, we can remove the Boltons. I can get my home back. I might
be able to get my boys back if they live. I’ll have someplace safe to bring Sansa.

Jaime smiled at his brother and raised his wine glass. “Besides, we’re not asking the West to move
against the crown. We’re asking them to move against the North. There is nothing the West enjoys
more than fighting with the North. Time to write Aunt Genna.”
 "I love her"
Chapter Summary

Selwyn returns to dinner and has some information to share.

Jaime listened as Tyrion played out the scenarios for how the kingdoms might respond to the
Lannister army marching North. He knew it would be an act of defiance against the crown, but
Jaime hardly cared. His own sister was likely to kill him regardless of what action he took.

If I can atone for what I did to Bran, it will at least be worth it when Cersei takes my head. No
matter what the North does after this battle, I can’t move against Cersei. Despite her willingness to
send me into the Stranger’s hands, I won’t hurt my sister.

Reaching across the empty seat between them, Catelyn grabbed Jaime’s forearm. Her brows were
knitted in slight confusion, but her voice was sincere. “Thank you. Even if it doesn’t work, I
appreciate it.”

“Don’t get sappy now, Lady Stark. I look forward to seeing a Lannister banner drape Winterfell’s
walls to replace that dull one with the wolf’s head.”

A moon or two ago, he would have meant the words as a sincere threat. Now the words were a
hollow attempt to play at indifference. A feeble effort to mask the good he hoped to do for her. By
the look on Catelyn’s face, she saw through his act, just as she saw through his denial of feelings
for Brienne.

With a shrug, he continued to play up his feigned disinterest in her family’s well-being. “It gets me
away from you faster of course. I don’t intend to extend this lovely journey any longer than
necessary.”

Catelyn smirked and nodded. “Yes, and then I’ll need to rebuild the North’s defenses to keep you
away for good this time. I wonder how effective I’ll be in that objective if my guard is led by Lady
Brienne.”

Before Jaime could reply, the door to the dining hall opened and Selwyn walked back in. His lips
were set in a firm line, and Brienne was nowhere to be seen. Leaning forward in his chair, Jaime’s
eyes locked on the older lord as he sat down.

Where is Brienne?

“I apologize for all that. Given some of the statements made, I needed to speak with my daughter in
private.” Selwyn took a sip of his wine and rubbed his weary eyes as he swallowed the liquid.

Catelyn’s tone mirrored Jaime’s worry. “Where is Brienne?”

Selwyn’s brows furrowed slightly. “She’ll likely be in soon enough. I think she just needed a
moment to herself. She gave me detail of your plight, Lady Stark. As a father who himself has lost
all his children save Brienne, I can empathize.”

Shifting in his seat, Selwyn sighed and spoke more confidently. “Brienne and I have come to an
agreement. Without sounding boastful, I can tell you that the other vassals look to me for guidance,
what with Renly dead and Stannis off licking his wounds somewhere. Our kingdom still wishes to
break from the crown. The current line has left a bitter taste in their mouths, and they are aware of
the king’s true lineage. The Stormlands are in disarray and much of our army destroyed. We only
have 5,000 left in fighting condition. I will rally the Stormlands to your cause. We will help you
reclaim the North and then we will stand beside you in open rebellion.”

Jaime felt relief wash over him. He believed that he could bring Addam and Addam’s contingent to
his cause, but he was uncertain if he could gather more. Despite the West being more likely to side
with him than Cersei, there was a degree of risk involved; particularly given circumstances of his
father’s death. Having Selwyn’s aid was much more of a guarantee.

Catelyn turned to Jaime and raised a brow. They both understood the implications of the
Stormlands joining them. Between any soldiers from the West willing to follow Jaime, and the
addition of the Stormlands forces, they could easily remove the Boltons.

Catelyn turned her attention back to Selwyn. “I thank you, Lord Selwyn. I can assure you that the
North will answer the call of the Stormlands should the crown march against you. You are a
valuable ally to have in this.”

Selwyn smiled and nodded. “Yes, I think that both of our kingdoms will benefit greatly.
Unfortunately, I will need to keep your sworn sword here as part of my deal with Brienne. In return
for my commitment to aid your cause, I’ve have asked her to do her duty to Tarth. She will marry
and keep the Tarth line going.”

Jaime felt his heart drop at the words. Before he could control himself, a panicked response
tumbled from his lips. “No.”

All eyes looked to him, including Selwyn. He could feel the heat creeping up his neck as he
stammered. “I just… she is an incredible fighter. Better than most I’ve ever seen.”

With a wide smile and billowing laugh, Selwyn nodded emphatically. “Yes, well I always told her,
if you’re going to do it, best to do it right. Fortunately, one soldier will not determine the outcome.
Having Brienne there is hardly necessary, and I can’t risk losing her again.”

Anxiety coursed through Jaime’s veins and just as with his initial reaction, Jaime could hardly stop
the next words that flew from his mouth. “But… she’s already betrothed.”

Shit. Why did I say that?

Selwyn’s brows furrowed. Any mirth in his tone died as he fixed his eyes on Jaime. “What? My
daughter is not betrothed.”

Jaime could see Tyrion biting back a laugh from across the table. Jaime prayed to the Seven that
Brienne would not walk in while they discussed this.

“Well, King Tommen betrothed Brienne to… me.”

It seemed a physical labor for Bronn and Tyrion to control the laughter threatening to shake the
walls around them. At his side, Catelyn sighed and shook her head; her head hanging as she stared
at her hands which were folded in her lap.

Selwyn’s eyes darted to Tyrion and Bronn who desperately struggled to cover their reaction at
Jaime’s fumbling. “Is this some jape? Your kin seems to think so.”
“It is not a jape. The king announced it at court.” Jaime felt as though the walls were closing in on
him. The more he thought on it, he had little argument to make. Brienne only agreed to wed him as
a ploy to see Sansa to safety. It appeared that she now agreed to wed another for a similar reason; to
procure an army and keep the Starks safe.

Gods. She is likely thrilled that word never reached her father of our mock betrothal. Mayhap
getting away from me would make her happy. Mayhap she cares little for who she weds; only what
comes with it. ‘A means to an end’ she had said.

As Selwyn took in Jaime’s words, Jaime immediately backtracked. “Of course, that was before my
father was killed. I don’t imagine the crown would hold her to it, nor would I. Never mind all that.
It was just an alliance my father wished to make.”

Catelyn glanced to Jaime as though he had gone mad. She tried to get his attention, but Jaime
didn’t want to be there any longer. He wanted to go away inside. It was the only way he knew how
to deal with such helpless feelings and emotional despair.

“Good. Well that nonsense is settled then. I have a proper match for her.”

The words hit Jaime like Locke’s blade to his wrist. He leaned back in his chair and kept his mouth
shut. Any mirth across the table died at Selwyn’s words. Glancing to Tyrion, Jaime saw the
sympathy writ across his young brother’s face.

“I’m sorry Lord Tarth, but I cannot accept the terms.” Catelyn’s words filled the momentary
silence that had descended over the room at Selwyn’s prior comment.

What are you doing? Your just received the ally and forces you need.

Jaime’s brows knitted in confusion as he glanced to Catelyn. She raised her chin and met Selwyn’s
eyes. The older lord scoffed and threw out his arms.

“What terms are you disagreeing with? The Stormlands aid against the Boltons, or our
commitment to stand by you in open rebellion.”

“I disagree to any terms that would require Brienne to sell herself in such a way. An army for your
daughter’s happiness? I wouldn’t do that to my own daughter. I wouldn’t ask it of yours. If she
wants the marriage, that is a different matter. Although given she is already betrothed to Ser Jaime
however, it strikes me that she has two options.”

Selwyn’s jaw went slack at the words. He leaned back and crossed his arms as his eyes darted
between Catelyn and Jaime.

Selwyn narrowed his eyes at Jaime, and he huffed a small laugh. With a disbelieving tone, he
questioned Jaime. “You would marry my daughter?”

All eyes again landed on Jaime. He could feel his brother and Catelyn willing him to say ‘yes’.
Jaime’s instinct was to say ‘no’; to deny his feelings for Brienne as he had denied them to Catelyn
the other night.

She only loved Renly. Now she just wants to serve. She doesn’t want a husband; particularly me.

Jaime remembered Cersei’s words to him ‘you took too long’. He bitterly recalled how badly
Cersei wanted to marry Prince Rhaegar. How willingly she went to Robert. He remembered
Tyrion’s information that Cersei slept with others in his absence; anything to get what she needed.
There is little need to be made a fool of in front of everyone. The wench clearly doesn’t want
anything to do with me. She was quick to agree to another betrothal for her next set of needs. How
very Cersei of her.

Jaime felt his walls starting to go up as he met Selwyn’s eyes. The bitterness he often felt crept in,
and a thousand nasty quips sat on the tip of his tongue. With a shrug of feigned indifference, Jaime
hummed in disinterest. “You do me a kindness really. I would just as soon...”

“Stop it!” Catelyn slammed her fist on the table and stood up. “Don’t you dare fall back on that
again because you’re too much of a coward. I’m going to speak with Brienne. Lord Selwyn, where
might I find your daughter?”

Confusion lined Lord Selwyn’s features as he again looked between Jaime and Catelyn. His brows
furrowed as he considered the question. “I believe she wanted some fresh air. I hardly know where
she goes.”

The cliffs.

Catelyn sighed and rubbed her face in frustration. “I’ll be outside waiting for her. Lord Selwyn, if
she is pleased with the betrothal you’ve arranged, I would never stand in her way and I happily
accept your offer. If she does this only to secure the forces you offer, I will leave here on the
morrow without your alliance. She deserves to know her worth.”

Jaime tapped the stem of his wine glass and glanced to Tyrion. A strange expression lined his
younger brother’s features. It was a look he had seen on Tyrion’s face many times before when
they were boys. A look Jaime was often on the receiving end of when he took Cersei’s side over
Tyrion’s. The look of disappointment.

Bronn smiled smugly and raised his hand. “If we’re talkin’ betrothals, I’d love to offer me hand to
ya daughter. She ain’t so bad. I wouldn’t mind doin’ me duty any time she likes.”

Unable to take it any longer, Jaime left the table abruptly. He moved from the dining hall and
marched up the marble stairs, grumbling as he went. He had half a mind to storm after Brienne and
tell her off. To congratulate her on a poor match befitting a wench.

Congratulations, wench. Fifth time’s a charm apparently. I do hope you enjoy trading your life
away for a fucking army. I hope you got everything you wanted.

Jaime knew the thought wasn’t fair. He was angry and jealous. In the past, he often felt the same
things towards Cersei where it concerned Robert. He despised himself for feeling so strongly about
the wench’s latest betrothal.

I wonder if she knows him. Mayhap she does and she is pleased?

Slamming the door to his assigned room behind him, Jaime flopped onto the bed and stared at the
ceiling. He was unsurprised when Tyrion walked in not long after. His face lacked its usual mirth
as he silently entered, uninvited.

Without looking, Jaime listened to the sound of Tyrion’s footsteps moving towards the table in the
corner of the room.

“Do you know the thing that I hate most about you?” Tyrion’s voice was barely audible as it filled
the silence. The air felt thick with resentment and tension.

Jaime snorted and shook his head from side to side. “So much to hate. So little to love. I hardly
know which of my regrettable traits you’ll choose.”

“Just stop it! This. This is what I hate most about you. The self-loathing. The bitterness. You were
never this way before the Kingsguard. I can’t imagine what it must have been like living in that
environment and witnessing all that you did, but you’ve thrown every chance at happiness away
over the years. At first, I thought you truly happy with the scraps that Cersei offered. Then I saw
the shame in your eyes every time you did something horrible for her or father or our House.
Now… now you finally have a chance. You’re finally free from it all with an opportunity at love
and you throw it all away.”

Seven take me now. A lecture on love from the whoremonger.

“You’re one to talk to me where it concerns love. Comical really. You’ve bedded more women in a
day than I’ve had my entire life. Please, spare me. Besides, I do not love…”

“Oh, shut up. Everyone sees it except Brienne. You’re pathetic. Mid thirties and acting like a boy
of ten with his first crush. I left my love behind in King’s Landing to get Sansa, Brienne, and you
out of the city. I hardly cared if Cersei took my head, but I didn’t want to leave Shea.”

Jaime chuckled bitterly. “Yes, your wife’s chambermaid. So, you upgraded from the brothels
then.”

Tyrion’s warning tone silenced Jaime. “My wife? My wife is a child. A girl that I’ve tried to protect
from our family since father forced me on her. He tried to command me into bedding her! You’ll
need to forgive me for continuing to lay with the woman that I brought to King’s Landing. The
woman I fell in love with. I’m so very sorry that her background is not of a noble beginning. Shall
we go down that road again?”

Any further cruelty threatening to spill from Jaime’s lips died at the reference to Tysha. Tysha.
Tyrion’s first wife who he loved deeply, but Tywin would not allow him to be with because she
was not of noble birth. Jaime regretted his part in that nastiness. His role in destroying Tyrion’s
love.

Looking at Tyrion, Jaime could see the pain. It had not occurred to Jaime that Tyrion truly loved
the handmaiden in King’s Landing.

“I’m sorry about Tysha and Shae. I’m sorry you’re stuck with a child bride and an insufferable
goodmother.” Jaime tried to tease at the mention of Catelyn, but he could sense that Tyrion was
still seething from his seat.

“This isn’t a jape, Jaime. I was not allowed to marry or stay married to the women I have loved.
You have that option and you’re fucking it all up. For what reason, I can hardly comprehend.”

He has no idea how little of an option it is.

“You assume that because I supposedly have feelings for Brienne, that I am entitled to be with her?
Do you know the first thing I said to her when we met?”

Jaime took Tyrion’s silence as a ‘no’.

“I said to Lady Catelyn ‘Is that a woman?’ and then I followed it up with ‘Where did you find this
beast?’ Then because I needed to be clearer at my repulsion for her, the third thing that I said, and
the first words directed at her, was, ‘You’re much uglier in the daylight’. How she didn’t drop her
breeches for me then and there remains a mystery.”
Tyrion grunted in frustration and buried his head in his hands.

Ah yes, he’s starting to understand. Brienne hates me.

Undeterred, Jaime kept venting. “Of course, I was only just getting started. I kept at that line of
commentary for weeks. Very charming. Very romantic. I’ve done everything that I can to ensure
she hates me. It is likely the most successful I’ve ever been in an endeavor.”

Tyrion looked up at Jaime and said nothing. Moving from the chair, he approached the bed and
stared at Jaime who remained on his back, staring at the ceiling.

“And yet, you saw fit to save her from rape. You saved her life twice. You abandoned your return
to King’s Landing, your return to Cersei, to go back for her. You betrayed our House for her and
for your oath. You gave her your newly gifted Valyrian steel sword… because truly, what part of
Ser Jaime would want such a shit weapon? You defended her before a vile sounding septa. Oh, and
you won’t stop staring at her when you think no one is looking. Don’t think that goes unnoticed.
Do you think we’re all blind? I can assure you, only Lady Brienne is. In fairness to her, I can
understand how she refuses to see it.”

Jaime bolted upright. He was prepared to punt Tyrion from the cliff along with Septa Roelle if he
meant to insult Brienne.

Tyrion put up his hand. “Yes, there you are. Time to defend your… what is it that charming
moniker you’ve given her... wench? No, Jaime. I was not insulting her. I was implying that I know
how it feels to be mocked your entire life for your appearance. I was implying that I understand
how impossible it can feel to Brienne, that she could be loved as she is. Not despite it.”

Well great. Now I feel like worse. Lovely talk.

With a sigh, Tyrion moved back to the seat he previously occupied. “We need to write Aunt
Genna. Since you were so eager to rid yourself of the burden that is Brienne, we have acquired
5,000 men. Regrettably, it is still not enough.”

Jaime exhaled as he looked out the window.

“She isn’t a burden. I love her.”

 “Are you not charmed”
Chapter Summary

Catelyn talks to Selwyn as she awaits Brienne's return. She has some words with Jaime
after.

Chapter Notes

Double posting day! Posting this and chapter 31.

Catelyn sat on the steps leading into Evenfall Hall and stared west towards the docks from which
they had arrived. A large shadow emerged from the castle, acting as a cloud cover from the sun.
With a loud grunt from the effort, Lord Selwyn sat down beside Catelyn.

“Gods. You had to sit on the last step, didn’t you?” Selwyn grumbled as he tried to position his
long legs comfortably. With a great sigh, he looked to Catelyn and chuckled.

“I can see why my daughter likes serving you. You might be as stubborn as her.” Catelyn looked to
the older lord at her side. She hardly knew what to make of the man. In one moment, he treated his
daughter like little more than a stranger. The next moment, he was throwing nasty septas in cells
for wronging the girl.

“She’s an incredible young woman and she deserves happiness, even if she doesn’t feel entitled to
it.” Catelyn’s words were laced with challenge as she met Selwyn’s eyes. For his part, the older
lord did not get defensive or argue. Selwyn only huffed a laugh and looked out towards the sea.

“You must think me a monster. Hearing from Brienne what little she was willing to share of Septa
Rolle, I can only imagine the type of father you think me.”

Catelyn studied his face before responding. “With all do respect, Lord Tarth, I would use the
words; absent, distant, unloving.”

Selwyn hummed in consideration and offered a conciliatory nod. “You Tullys like your words in
threes. Your assessment is not unfair.”

Catelyn couldn’t believe her ears. She wished to steal Brienne away from the island and never
return. It suddenly hit her as to why the young woman was so fearful of being sent away once their
mission in King’s Landing was complete.

Touch-starved. Love-starved. Cast aside like some unwanted creature. A great jape to Westeros
because she doesn’t fit the kingdoms’ expectations of beauty and nobility. Even I pitied her
appearance; thought her likely to find no match.

“How many children do you have, Lady Stark?” Selwyn studied Catelyn as he spoke. His tone was
even and did not betray any reason he might have for asking the question.
“Five. I know that one, my eldest, is dead. Three are missing and feared dead. Sansa may well be
all that I have left.”

Selwyn nodded. “Your husband, Lord Stark. I heard he was beheaded not long ago. That must have
been gut-wrenching for you. I assume you a love match based on how passionately you speak of
your family.”

“We were not at first, but we grew to love one another.”

Selwyn hummed and nodded at her words. “I was lucky. Mine was a love match. That my wife
loved me is still beyond my comprehension. I wanted for nothing but her. When she birthed us
Galladon, it was the happiest day of my life. When she birthed us Brienne, I thought my life
complete.”

Selwyn’s tone and expression grew wistful as he looked to the sky above. Then his face darkened
as Catelyn saw his next thoughts swirling.

“I was content with our small family, but she wanted more. Her love was like the sea. Endless in its
depth. Unrelenting when it wanted for something. Calm when satisfied. We didn’t know she
carried twins. The babes were so small. There was a complication though. She died on the birthing
bed and it was as though the world stopped. The babes died within the year. Then Galladon a year
later.”

Catelyn watched the anguish play out on his face. “Galladon was an easy boy; eager to please and
quickly accepted by everyone he met. He had his mother’s features. More pleasant to look upon
than my line.”

Turning more fully to Catelyn, Selwyn spoke plainly. “Brienne struggled. From her earliest days,
she was different. Unusually large for her age. A less pleasing face to look upon. It broke my heart
to see the reactions she elicited from others. The other children shied away from her and she
became awkward for it. Galladon was the only one who played with her. They were together that
day when he drowned.”

Selwyn took a deep breath and shook his head. “The damn cliffs that he taught her to jump from.
He jumped wrong and smashed his head. Brienne was screaming for aid, trying to pull him to
shore. She was too small though, and he drowned. It was the castle staff that heard her screams.”

Catelyn’s eye went wide in shock. She did not know the details of how Galladon died; only that he
had drowned. Knowing Brienne was there to witness it broke Catelyn’s heart. The older lord
looked down at his hands. They clasped together as he wrung them.

“I should have interceded before it happened. I knew they visited the cliffs, but I was so busy
wallowing in misery. I didn’t realize how brazen Galladon had become. He was always a bit of a
risk taker in the yards, but to learn he was jumping from cliffs was most shocking. Brienne was just
excited to have someone include her. I imagine she didn’t think twice when he had her jumping
with him. When he died, I erred. I was so afraid of the pain I would experience if I lost her too, that
I pushed her away to avoid attachment.”

Selwyn sighed and met Catelyn’s eyes. “Grief is funny like that. It makes you do horrible things. I
pushed Brienne away to guard my own heart. I was selfish. Then I took a new whore to my bed
every year to try and fill the void left by my wife’s death.”

Catelyn gasped. “A new whore every year!? By the gods, you brought them into your home? Did
you present them all as you did Aliane?”
Huffing a small laugh, Selwyn shook his head in refute. “I refused to remarry. My advisors begged
me to take another wife and sire more children given Brienne could not make a match. I refused.
The thought of remarrying and having more children felt like an insult to the memory of my wife. I
will admit, I’ve given the women too many privileges befitting a lady of the House. With Aliane, I
made the mistake of informing her that should Brienne refuse Tarth when I die, her son would
stand to inherit.”

Catelyn’s face betrayed her shock and Selwyn put up a defensive hand. “Now what else would you
have me do? My daughter wants nothing to do with becoming Evenstar. Trust me, I’ve tried to
make her a match. I’ve begged her to stay home. There is nothing so special about Aliane
compared to the others, but the boy’s father I made a promise to.”

“Who is his father?” Catelyn couldn’t help but probe. She was angry that Selwyn would place a
bastard in line to inherit when he had Brienne. She wanted to understand the child’s connection to
Selwyn.

“They boy is Rayland Storm, but he is only a Storm because Aliane refused to wed her lover.
Rayland is the son of my former master-at-arms, Ser Goodwin. He died a few years ago just before
Rayland’s birth. The man was a dear friend and trained Brienne. I owe him my life in many ways,
but the one thing he never approved of was my proclivity for the ladies.”

Selwyn chuckled slightly at the memory of his friend before continuing. “Ironically, he fell in love
with Aliane while standing guard outside my favorite brothel in town. He begged her to wed him
when she fell pregnant, but she was too ambitious for all that. She wanted a man with his own
lands. On his deathbed, my dear friend asked me to watch after the child. Septa Roelle had retired,
but I have been paying her to help Aliane. I had no idea how horrible the woman was. Now I worry
after little Ray.”

With a huff of irritation, Selwyn raked his massive hand over his face. “I did not intend to start
bedding Aliane, but it happened once after one of my visits to check in on Rayland. We drank too
much and fell into bed. I do not love her, but we are both lonely.”

Shame and guilt lined Selwyn’s face as he continued speaking. Catelyn found she couldn’t look
away. “Brienne is lost to me and I grow old. Three failed betrothals and a failed ball to introduce
her to young, available lords. Brienne the Beauty they called her.”

Selwyn huffed a bitter laugh. “I suppose we can mark that four failed betrothals. With how
passionately the Kingslayer defended her, I thought perhaps he might care for her at least, but as
with every man that meets Brienne, she is just a comrade with teats. A spectacle to amuse their
encampments. All she wanted to do was fight for a worthy cause. She became obsessed with the
idea of behaving as a knight even though she can never be one. I trained her as best I could to
prepare her, but in truth, every day she has been gone from Tarth, I fear a missive will arrive with
word of her death.”

Catelyn understood the worry. War was a necessary evil, but she hated it. She had feared for Robb
as she had feared for Ned’s going south. She feared for her remaining children still.

“Then shit like today happens and I realize how much it would still hurt despite my efforts to
remain distant. I can play at indifference all I want, but losing Brienne would ruin me. I’m not a
good father, but I have a chance to keep her safe. It may seem like I used this opportunity to get
what I want for Tarth and my line, but I only do this to keep her alive. I can’t bury the last of my
children.”

Catelyn felt tears at the back of her eyes. She thought of her own family.
What if Sansa is all I have left? What if I found myself in Selwyn’s position? I would do the same. I
would do anything to keep Sansa out of harm’s way.

Catelyn nodded in understanding. It only frustrated her to know Jaime did love Brienne and he was
ruining it for his own pride. She needed to know that the match Selwyn made at last cared for
Brienne.

“Does Brienne know the man that you found for her?”

Selwyn nodded in confirmation. “Yes, they served together under Renly. He came seeking her out
after Renly’s death, thinking she fled home. He asked for her hand if she ever returned.”

Catelyn sighed. “Does he love her?”

Selwyn shook his head in refute. “I think he accepts her, but it isn’t love. I can tell by the way he
spoke of her and the lack of spark in his eyes. He was honest with me about everything. He
admitted to being unkind at Renly’s camp and he means to make amends for it. The boy thinks her
a good person and a decent soldier.”

Decent!? She’s the best I’ve ever seen.

Catelyn’s brows furrowed. “Did he say what he did to her?”

Selwyn shrugged his shoulders. “He didn’t share; only that a silly wager offended her. Some
nonsense men at camps do. I’m hardly surprised. After all, she was the sole female in a large army.
He felt badly about it and apologized to me as he did her.”

Anger coursed through Catelyn as she recalled the wager that Brienne told her of while they were
on the road south. Her breathing labored in aggravation at Jaime’s cowardice that now placed
Brienne in this position.

This swine who seeks Brienne’s hand doesn’t deserve her. Even Jaime, as cruel as he was to
Brienne, would not have participated in such a nasty bet on her maidenhead.

Looking to Selwyn, Catelyn spoke through gritted teeth. “I know of the wager. You cannot allow
her to marry that man. I will speak with Ser Jaime. He is a far better match.”

Selwyn snorted and shook his head. “The Kingslayer? I think not!”

“Do not call him that. As I was until recently, you are likely unaware of why he killed Aerys. Ser
Jaime saved that city and sacrificed his own name to do so. Aerys intended to set all of King’s
Landing aflame in wildfire. He had it stored in caches throughout the city. He called for the
pyromancers and Ser Jaime put a stop to it.”

Selwyn scoffed at the words. “Let me guess. The Kingslayer told you the tale?”

“No. Lord Varys. Ser Jaime kept it a secret although he confirmed Varys’ words. Lord Tyrion
informed us that there are still stores of wildfire below the city that he used against Stannis.”

Understanding passed in Selwyn’s eyes. He looked to the ground and spoke softly. “Yes, I’ve
heard of the Battle of the Blackwater. Horrid thing, truly. We lost many Stormlanders. Good men.
I could see the plumes of green smoke over the ocean for days after.”

Taking a deep breath, Catelyn spoke with disdain heavy in her voice. “That wager you speak of; it
was for Brienne’s maidenhead. She told me of it. They treated her as a great jape. Fortunately, your
daughter is not freely giving.”

At Catelyn’s words, Selwyn paled. “Ser Jaime may be a lot of things. He has committed crimes
against my family which I struggle to forgive him for, but he is a good man. He saved my life when
he had no reason to. He saved your daughter’s life twice. He saved her from rape. He turned on his
own House to honor an oath to me.”

With a resigned sigh, Catelyn shook her head. “Jaime Lannister is the greatest dolt that I’ve ever
met. Truly very annoying and sometimes I wish to throttle him, but loathe as I am to admit it, he is
a good and honorable man. Trust me when I say that he is in love with your daughter. Brienne is
more difficult to read, but it’s in her eyes. I do believe she loves him too.”

Catelyn shook her head before continuing. “Lord Tyrion was laughing earlier because his brother’s
love for your daughter is as obvious to all of us as the sky is blue. As brave as he is in battle, Ser
Jaime is a coward in matters of the heart. Please, just give him some time. A few moon turns at
most. I’ll either get him to court her properly, or I’ll be the first person looking to make a fine
match for your daughter. You have my word.”

With a massive groan, Selwyn rubbed his hands over his face. “Gods damnit. You people brought
a fucking storm with you. Life was quite pleasant here until this afternoon. A few moon turns it is.”

Shaking his head, Selwyn met Catelyn’s eyes. “I can’t see her off to war again though. I don’t have
it in me.”

Catelyn huffed a small laugh. “Good luck separating them if they finally admit their feelings for
one another. They’re already joined at the hip despite pretending at hating one another. Let her stay
with me, please. She feels like a daughter to me and I will keep her safe as though she was. I wish
to right the wrongs that nasty septa did. I can help her. Teach her things that your wife isn’t here to
teach her. She’ll guard me and Sansa, which means that she will not see the battlefield.”

With a begrudging nod, Selwyn relented. Catelyn felt an immense relief at the chance to help
Brienne see her value and worthiness of love. Before either could speak again, Tyrion came outside
with a missive in hand. “Lord Selwyn, might I have access to your rookery? I need to get word to
my aunt on some matters.”

The older lord’s bushy brows furrowed; his brain seeming to search his mind for stored
information. He mumbled to himself as he quietly went through a list of names. “Jeanne? Jeyne?
Genna! Genna Lannister, correct?”

Tyrion’s brows shot up in surprise. “You know House Lannister quite well. Yes, Genna.
Regrettably, she goes by Genna Frey. Quite the downgrade.”

Selwyn snorted and nodded. “Yes, yes. Go ahead. She’s a decent woman unlike your father.
Apologies. I know you just lost him, but the man was a proper cock.”

Turning back to Catelyn, Selwyn raised a brow. “I will call the banners. A few moon turns for the
boy. Then I’ll find her a proper match.”

Catelyn smiled triumphantly and made her way inside. Moving quickly to Jaime’s room, Catelyn
knocked loudly, and barely waited to hear his muffled command to enter.

He was lying face down on the bed like a sulking child. Without looking, he spoke into the pillow.
“Now what Tyrion? Come back to reprimand me some more?”

“Not Tyrion.” Catelyn raised an unimpressed brow as Jaime sat upright.

“Oh lovely. Someone new to yell at me. Sadly, this room lacks rocks for you to smash across my
face. Mayhap you could beat me with my own false hand. It’s practically a brick anyhow and of
equal use.” Jaime’s eyes followed Catelyn as she moved to the window.

“I’ve spoken to Lord Selwyn and he has agreed to call the Stormlands forces without requiring that
Brienne marry the match he made her.”

At the statement, Catelyn noticed the hope fill Jaime’s eyes. Biting back a smile, she continued.
“When he told me of who the match was, I shared some information that soured his opinion of the
man. Thanks to your childish behavior, she almost wed a man who made a bet on her
maidenhead.”

Jaime’s eyes darkened and his lips curled. “What!?”

Catelyn hummed in feigned nonchalance. “Yes, and because she feels so unworthy of kindness, let
alone love, she accepted to ensure that I received 5,000 men. I convinced Lord Selwyn to
reconsider your contrived disinterest. You have until the end of this battle to court her properly or
you will watch her wed another. If Lord Selwyn doesn’t find her a suitable match, I will.”

Jaime snorted and looked away. “War is an ideal time to find a match for the wench. Men get
desperate when they believe themselves about to die.”

A new match it is.

Moving to the door, Catelyn grumbled in irritation. As her hand reached the handle, Jaime’s body
flew against the door; his faced lined with desperation.

“No, wait. I’m sorry. Please, I just… I didn’t mean it. It seems I’m not well-versed in the art of
courting.”

Catelyn’s shoulder’s relaxed as the tension left her body.

“For starters, stop using insults and cruelty as a defense mechanism. You only hurt Brienne when
you do so.”

Jaime sighed. Looking more defeated than ever, he shook his head. “You’re asking a lot, but I
suppose I can try.”

“Try harder! And use her proper name when you speak to her!”

Jaime scoffed and feigned offense. “I do!”

“Wench is not her name, Jaime!”

“It’s not?” She could see Jaime biting back a laugh and she wanted to strangle him then and there.

Catelyn raised a peeved brow, prompting Jaime to throw up his flesh hand defensively.
“Apologies. I’ll be much nicer to Brian.”

With a warning look from Catelyn, Jaime bit his lip and nodded. “Right, noted. No more ‘Brian’,
but in fairness, I don’t see the harm in ‘wench’.”

“That is not an endearing name! Endearing nicknames would be ‘love’ or ‘sweetling’.”

“Is that not the same thing as ‘wench’? I think you’re being too critical of my wooing style.”
Catelyn’s expression was one of righteous indignation. “This is your wooing style!?”

“Are you not charmed?”

 “Nothing would please me more”
Chapter Summary

Brienne gets one final chance to say goodbye to Septa Roelle.

Chapter Notes

Double posting day! Posting this and the chapter prior (Chapter 30).

Brienne sat in her room looking down at the doll in her hands. She had thrown it on the bed
haphazardly before heading to the cliffs with Jaime before supper. Running through her daily list,
Brienne reminded herself why it mattered little how miserable Hyle Hunt would make her.

Too tall. Thick lips. Freckled skin. Small chest. No curves. Scars. Ungainly. Brittle hair. Ugly. Just
ugly.

After speaking with her father, Brienne had gone to the cliffs again. It was her place of peace.
Unlike life around the castle, there was never anyone there to judge her. When she returned to
Evenfall, she took the back entrance that enabled her to slip through unseen.

At the cliffs, Brienne reflected on how wonderful yet unexpected it was to be defended by others.
She had never experienced such kindness in a public forum save for Renly rescuing her at her
father’s ball many years ago.

All that matters is fulfilling my oath to Lady Catelyn. My happiness in return for an army is
nothing.

A knock at the door startled Brienne. Returning the doll into the chest, Brienne moved quietly
towards the door and prayed to the Seven that whoever it was would go away.

“Wench, I know you’re in there. I can see candlelight under the door.”

Gods. Of all the times, I can’t deal with him right now.

With a heavy sigh, Brienne moved to the door and opened it slightly. “What is it? Is everyone
alright?”

Jaime snorted and spoke in his usual sarcastic tone. “Well dinner was lovely considering I ate none
of it. I understand from those who did indulge, that there was a shortage of wine. Some dolt spilled
half a cask’s worth on a proper cunt of a woman before she was removed by some giant that men
sing tales about north of the Wall.”

Brienne rolled her eyes, but she did not open the door further. “I’m pleased for you. If there’s
nothing else then…”

Before she could finish, Jaime was shoving the door open and inviting himself in again. “You’re
truly not the best host, wench. Earlier you only cared for half of your guests’ comfort in their
assigned rooms. Now you leave me standing in the hallway looking like a madman speaking to a
door. With that kind of behavior, they’re likely to throw me in a cell with that miserable shit you
grew up with. Then I would truly go mad. That or I might bludgeon her with this worthless
prosthetic.”

Brienne snorted, but quickly averted her eyes as her cheeks pinked. She recalled the overly
generous things Jaime said in her defense. “Thank you for all that. Defending me that is. I don’t
think I’ve ever seen Septa Roelle look quite so horrified. It was remarkable.”

A small smile tugged at Brienne’s lips as she recalled the panic-stricken look on Septa Roelle’s
face when her father threw her at the guard.

Jaime smiled mischievously in return and raised a brow. “Mayhap we can pay her a visit later.
Bring her some food laced with potions from the maester’s office that will make her ill throughout
the night.”

An unladylike laugh pushed past Brienne’s lips. A combination of mirth and embarrassment
flooded Brienne as she quickly moved to cover her unsightly smile. Jaime stared at her with an
unnerving intensity that made Brienne fidget. His attention caused a darker flush to her cheeks.
Brienne whispered conspiratorially as Jaime continued to stare.

“I did that once. The maester once gave a medicine to a visiting lord who was having stomach
ailments. It helped get things moving so to speak. I put a bit too much of it in Septa Roelle’s
evening tea after a particularly awful day, and she was on the privy all night.”

Jaime threw back his head in laughter. His guffaws echoed off the walls and Brienne moved to
quiet him. When his laughter calmed, Jaime spoke in mock incredulity. “No! Lady Brienne of
Tarth, that is absolutely scandalous. How improper.” Biting his lip, his brow raised slightly before
he spoke again. “Where can we find it?”

Brienne snorted and looked out the window at the night sky. It was favorite time of day;
particularly on Tarth. She jumped slightly at the unexpected sensation of Jaime’s hand slipping
into hers. He tugged her towards the door purposefully.

“What are you doing!?”

An impish smile spread across his face when their eyes met. “Take me to the maester’s office.”

“Ser Jaime, no! We can’t do that.”

Before she could protest further, Jaime released her hand and opened the door. “Come now, wench.
Be a better host. My head hurts from listening to Lady Catelyn berate me several times over. I need
medicine.”

She knew that he was lying and only wished to recreate the mischief she wreaked on Septa Roelle
many years ago. Despite her better judgement, Brienne sighed and nodded. The response earned a
wide smile from Jaime that set off a familiar pattern of flutters in her stomach.

He grabbed her hand again and tugged her out from the room, chuckling as they went. As they
stepped into the hallway, Lady Catelyn nearly ran into them. Her eyes went wide, and she looked
to their joined hands.

“Jaime Lannister! It is entirely indecent for you to be in Lady Brienne’s room alone with her!”
Raising a challenging brow, Jaime kept a firm grip on Brienne’s hand. Brienne tried to yank it
back, but Jaime held firm. “Have you ever known me to be decent?”

Catelyn looked around the hallway and stepped close. “What you doing!?”

Looking back at Brienne, Jaime smirked and leaned towards Catelyn. He whispered the plan and
she gasped in horror. Her hand flew to her mouth before hitting him hard in the chest.

“You can’t do that! That’s horrid! What is wrong with you?” With a huff of annoyance, Catelyn
took pause before continuing. She seemed to struggle greatly with a thought before speaking again.
“At least give her some untampered bread to soak some of it up. It’s the polite thing to do.”

Jaime snorted. “Lady Catelyn, you’ve been spending far too much time around Lannisters of late.
How very un-Stark of you. So dishonorable.”

Catelyn raised a challenging brow. “I’m a Tully first! Family, Duty, Honor. In that order. This is
family and duty first.” Looking to Brienne she smiled warmly before following them towards the
maester’s chamber.

It was a strange, yet much welcome, sensation. Brienne felt as though she was forming a family. A
family that cared for her wellness outside of their own. She never truly felt as though she had
family. A distant father. An awful septa. An unimpressed household staff.

I suppose it’s temporary though. I shouldn’t get too attached. I’ll need to come to Tarth and marry
Hyle. Then I’ll have a distant father, an awful husband, and an unimpressed household staff.

Their small group made their way towards the maester’s office. Brienne knocked lightly and
awaited the man’s permission to enter. When she heard the gruff voice of Maester Timmon call
out, Brienne moved to enter, but Jaime stilled her hand.

“You recall the potion?”

Brienne nodded in affirmation. Their faces were close enough that she could feel his breath on her
cheek. Leaning into her ear, Jaime spoke again. “You get the potion. I’ll distract him.”

Moving into the room, Brienne took in the familiar office. It was as unkempt as ever. Maester
Timmon was hard of hearing and slowing with age. He was an incredible maester, but time was
catching up with him.

Brienne quickly introduced Jaime and Catelyn before stepping back to let Jaime do his thing. The
man could truly ramble like no other.

As Maester Timmon listened intently to Jaime’s contrived ailment, she moved to the shelf to find
what they needed. Catelyn was careful to ensure her body blocked Timmon’s view of Brienne’s
wandering hands on the shelves. Brienne smiled to herself as she listened to Jaime’s dramatic tale.

“Lady Catelyn has been yammering in my ear incessantly for weeks on end now. I’m not certain
what is worse; the nagging itself or the pitch of her voice. It gives me this pain, right here.” Jaime
pointed to the space between his eyes. She could practically hear Catelyn’s eyes roll as the Stark
matriarch groaned in irritation.

“How can anything hurt when the space is vacant! Truly, you are insufferable! I should have left
you chained to that post.”

At her reprimand, the maester startled; unaccustomed to outbursts. Pointing theatrically to Catelyn,
Jaime looked at the man as though this was the exact ailment he described. “This. Do you see what
I’m working with here? Awful! All day long it’s like this. The sound is grating!”

Timmon stammered in understanding. “Yes, yes. I’ve just the thing, my lord.”

Jaime spoke at a volume that Timmon’s old ears could not pick up. He raised an amused brow at
Catelyn and smiled teasingly. “See, he has just the thing. A muzzle for you.”

When Brienne had what she needed, she moved to their side just as Maester Timmon returned with
a medicine for Jaime’s headache.

They thanked Timmon for the medicine and made their way towards the kitchens. At Brienne’s
back, Catelyn and Jaime bickered as they did the entire journey through the Riverlands.

Unlike most of their fights, Brienne could sense a slight fondness in their voices. It was somewhat
surprising to hear, but the thought of them finding peace with one another pleased Brienne. She
thought them both good people despite their Houses’ quarrel.

When they arrived, the cook’s eyes went wide. “Oh! Lady Brienne. Apologies, I was not expecting
you.”

“I’m so sorry Edna, but I missed supper. Would you mind terribly if I took some bread? Just a bit. I
don’t mean to be a bother.”

The older woman had a kind smile and portly build. Nodding her head, she tilted her chin towards
the hearth as she worked at dough for the next day’s meals. “Of course, m’lady. There’s a basket
of freshly baked bread just near the hearth.”

Brienne was never much of an eater and the cooks knew her for skipping meals. It hadn’t always
been that way, but Septa Roelle withheld Brienne’s meals for a couple of years, hoping it would
stall her growth. All it did was leave Brienne tall, lanky, and weak.

It wasn’t until Brienne fainted in the yards during training with Ser Goodwin, that the maester
proclaimed Brienne too thin. Much to Septa Roelle’s chagrin, Brienne was monitored to ensure she
didn’t miss her meals.

Brienne’s appetite never quite rebounded. There was a degree of self-consciousness Brienne felt
whenever she ate. Septa Roelle would glare at Brienne as the kitchen staff brought out food.

Fearful of earning her septa’s wrath, Brienne would eat only enough to suppress the loud
grumbling of her stomach before pushing the plate away and feigning satisfaction. Even now,
Brienne feared judgement from others when she picked up a fork or spoon.

With a large piece of bread secured, Brienne grabbed a jug of water, claiming to have need of it for
her room. Stepping into the hallway, Brienne held the water jug while Jaime poured the solution
in. Her eyes went wide.

“Not too much!”

Jaime only laughed and poured more. “Well she’s full of shit. There’s a lot to unclog.”

Brienne and Catelyn both fought back laughter so as not to draw suspicion from the few people
milling about outside the kitchens. With the water properly tainted with solution, they moved
towards the cells. As they neared, Jaime leaned into Brienne’s ear once more.
“What is the guard’s name?”

Brienne looked around the corner before speaking quietly to Jaime. “Ser Kyle.”

With a wide smile, Jaime put the water jug under his arm and grabbed the bread. “Lovely. I’ll be
right back.”

Stepping around the corner, Brienne and Catelyn listened as Jaime whistled loudly. Brienne could
just picture his arrogant, snarky smile as he approached.

“Ser Kyle, is it?”

An uncertain voice responded back. “Yes, my lord. Are you lost?”

“No, no. It’s just that your cell occupant was sent to bed early without supper. We felt badly of it,
and our group saved her some bread from the table. Lord Tarth said it would be alright to at least
offer that much. Could you be a good ser and deliver it for us?”

At the mention of her father, the young knight on guard duty was eager to please. “Yes, absolutely
my lord. Please tell Lord Tarth that I’ll bring this to her now.”

“Thank you. Have a wonderful evening, Ser Kyle.”

Brienne rolled her eyes at Jaime’s insincere politeness. Moments later, he returned around the
corner with a pleased look on his face.

Making their way upstairs, Catelyn confessed that she had come to speak with Brienne about a
slight change to plans. “I should like to speak to you alone, Brienne. Ser Jaime is a big boy. I’m
certain he can survive some time apart from you.”

At the words, Catelyn looked to Jaime and raised a brow. “I trust you can find your way back to
your room, Ser Jaime.”

With a huff of annoyance, Jaime gave a dramatic bow before walking away, whistling as he had
earlier near the cells. Catelyn looped her arm through Brienne’s and tugged her towards Brienne’s
room. When they arrived, Catelyn sat her down on the bed and patted the space next to her.

“It means a lot that you would sacrifice your own happiness, your own life, to aid my cause. I
cannot let you do it however.”

Brienne felt panic course through her. She needed to ensure that Lady Catelyn had everything she
needed to ensure victory.

Seeing her mounting protest, Catelyn put up a hand. “After speaking with me, your father agrees.
He has broken off the latest betrothal and committed aid regardless. He and I want to ensure that
any match you make is a good match. A match worthy of you. You deserve love and kindness.
That man cannot offer it.”

“My lady, no one else will have me. I’ve endured worse.”

Catelyn sighed and shook her head. Something seemed to be weighing on her mind. She struggled
with something, but Catelyn instead took a deep breath and swallowed it down. “I know we can
find a man worthy of you. Someone who will love you properly. I need you to know your worth.
You are worth more than 5,000 soldiers. You are worth more than an entire army.”
Brienne felt her face flush at the praise. She didn’t believe the words, but it meant a lot that Lady
Catelyn said them.

Then the woman smirked. “The Lannister brothers are entirely irksome, but not without their use.
They have written their aunt to help them rally the West. Ser Jaime believes he can bring enough
men to aid our cause. We, including you, will leave in a few days for the Crossroads. The men
from the Stormlands and any men that Ser Jaime can rally, will meet there before marching North.”

A wide smile spread across Brienne’s face. She sent a silent prayer of thanks to the Seven and
inwardly praised Ser Jaime for yet again, going above and beyond for his oath.

I knew he would not abandon his oath to Lady Catelyn. He is a good man. There is honor in him.

The next morning as their group was breaking their fast, a frazzled looking Selwyn entered the hall.
He greeted them before sitting beside Brienne; his eyes betraying the fatigue lining his features. At
her left side, Jaime was speaking with Tyrion who sat across the table and next to Lady Catelyn.

“Is something wrong, father?”

As if broken from a trance, Selwyn hummed and looked to her. “Huh? Oh, nothing so serious. I’ve
just been dealing with the staff all morning. There was an issue with Septa Roelle in the cells last
night.”

At her side, Jaime’s conversation with Tyrion died, and he tried to suppress a laugh. Brienne
received a swift kick to the leg from Lady Catelyn who was clearly aiming for Jaime. At Brienne’s
grimace, the Stark matriarch cast an apologetic glance Brienne’s way before narrowing her eyes at
Jaime.

Turning her head slightly, Brienne could see Jaime’s face turning red from the strain of trying to
bite back a laugh. His shoulders shook as he shoved the knuckles of his flesh hand into his mouth
and bit down.

Selwyn shook his head and continued talking. “None of the staff will go in the cell to clean her
mess. They said it smells like something died. She shit herself repeatedly throughout the night.”

Jaime’s head slammed onto the table; his ears a violent shade of red as he choked on his laughter.
Even Catelyn struggled to maintain her composure. Swallowing down a laugh, Catelyn looked up
at Selwyn.

“How awful, Lord Tarth. Mayhap the Seven meant to punish her nasty behavior yesterday.”

Selwyn hummed and picked up the cup of tea that the staff had placed before him. With a quick
sip, he placed the teacup down and looked to Jaime. “And how is your headache, Ser Jaime? You
keep banging your head into tables like that, and I fear you’ll need to take more trips to the cells…
apologies… the maester’s office… to find the necessary medicines.”

Brienne bit her lip and looked down. She knew they had been caught, but she hardly cared.

Nasty woman. She deserved it.

Sitting upright and raising a challenging brow at her father, Jaime spoke in an insincere tone
playing to his Kingslayer moniker. “I do hope Septa Roelle managed to avoid rolling into her mess
during what I imagine to be a most fitful sleep last night. I hear its difficult to see such
unpleasantries in the dark.”
Jaime’s remark was a clear reminder to Selwyn as to why Roelle was there to begin with. Brienne
glanced to him with a small, appreciative smile on her face. Jaime winked at her; the act sending
Brienne’s heart into a gallop. She knew it then. There was no longer anything to deny.

Gods. I love him. I love him far more than I ever loved Renly. This is going to be torture.

A knowing smile spread across Selwyn’s face. He nodded his head slightly and reached for his
teacup again. “Fair enough, Ser Jaime.”

A momentary silence fell over the table before Jaime spoke over Brienne’s head to Selwyn again.
“And to your question at dinner yesterday…”

Brienne’s eyes darted to Jaime, her brows furrowing as she looked back to her father who was
listening with rapt interest. From across the table, Catelyn and Tyrion stilled as they looked to
Jaime with equal curiosity.

What’s this about?

“Nothing would please me more.”

 “I’ll keep singing until you sing for me”
Chapter Summary

Jaime learns something new about Brienne before they leave. Brienne reflects on
some things.

Chapter Notes

Last Tarth chapter. Sorry there have been quite a few of these "quiet" Tarth chapters as
I broke out two for more detail. The plot moves along in the next chapters.

“Again. You need to keep your left guarded.” Brienne reprimanded Pod again and repositioned his
stance.

Five days had passed since their arrival on Tarth. Jaime and Pod frequently sought her out to train
in the yards. The boy was eager and a quick learner. He expressed a desire to squire for Brienne,
and despite several reminders that she was in fact not a knight, the boy persisted. Eventually,
Brienne relented.

Of course, Jaime had teased Brienne endlessly when she agreed. He had raised his remaining flesh
hand and spoke in jest. ‘Can I squire for you too? I can give you a hand with things.’

It had not gone unnoticed how much kinder Ser Jaime had been since the godsawful dinner the day
of their arrival. It was strange and unnerved Brienne; particularly given her recent recognition of
feelings for him. Despite a kinder Jaime, Brienne kept waiting for the jape at her expense or the
chorus of laughter at her back.

Of late, Jaime was always there. Pulling out chairs. Holding doors. Carrying her things from the
training yard. It made Brienne’s feelings for him even more painful to bear.

Pod lunged forward again while continuing to leave his left open. Disarming Pod quickly, Brienne
sighed and forced a smile as the young boy stammered an apology. Bronn sat on the rock wall
watching as Jaime stood beside him.

“Poddy boy. Ya much better with ya another sword than that one. Maybe whip it out and try to
spar ya lady knight with that one instead.” At Bronn’s crass words, Jaime’s eyes went wide, and he
shoved the foulmouthed sellsword backwards over the rock wall.

Guffawing loudly as his back hit the ground, Bronn’s feet stuck up over the rocks he had been
sitting on. “Fuckin’ hells. Sorry. Didn’t mean to offend ya betrothed.”

Seven take me now. Why won’t Bronn let that die. We are not betrothed. Ser Jaime would never
take a beast such as me.

Brienne and Pod sparred a while longer until it was time to ready for supper. They had received
Genna’s reply and would leave on the morrow to sail for the Saltpans.

Genna’s missive spoke of a kingdom divided. No one in the West cared for Cersei, but half the
vassals feared the consequences of openly breaking from the crown. While they would not go
against their acknowledged lord, Ser Jaime, they requested to remain neutral in the battle for
Winterfell.

The other half would follow Jaime straight into the Stranger’s arms if asked. They amassed 10,000
bannermen moving North under Ser Addam’s command. They would meet the Stormlands forces
at the crossroads.

Varys’ scheme had worked. Cersei had soldiers canvassing the West looking for their small group.
Strangely, Cersei kept word of Catelyn’s survival quiet. The missive from King’s Landing asked
the West to arrest Jaime for the crime of Kinslaying, and only mentioned that he traveled with
Brienne, Tyrion, and Sansa.

Between Jaime’s 10,000 and the Stormlands 5,000, they would easily outnumber Lord Bolton’s
forces. Of course, that was assuming all the Northern vassals would back their new liege lord.
Lady Catelyn seemed to think otherwise.

Picking up the training sword that Pod had dropped, Brienne instructed him to go bathe before
supper. She began to walk towards the armory to return the weapon, but a fast-moving shadow fell
over her right side. Brienne turned just in time to see Jaime reach her.

“You haven’t shown me the armory, wench. I imagine it must be massive to house the large
weapons you and your father require.”

Brienne shook her head. His words lacked their usual bite and she could tell that he meant no harm.
Moving into the armory, Brienne made her way towards the back to return the training swords.
The armory was small, but well maintained. Selwyn had little tolerance for mistreatment of
weaponry.

When Brienne turned around, she observed Jaime staring at a shield on the wall. His eyes were
wide as he pointed to it. “That’s… that’s Ser Duncan the Tall’s sigil! Is that his shield? How did
Tarth acquire it?”

“Just as we require large weapons, we require large shields to protect our large bodies.”

Jaime snorted, but did not drop the subject. “Yes, but how did you large Tarths come by this?”

Brienne moved towards the doorway and shook her head in exasperation. “Does your family not
keep heirlooms? I suppose being as rich as you are, you can just buy everything new.”

Stepping back into the warmth of the sun, Brienne spotted Catelyn and Sansa at the edge of the
yards. Tyrion was prattling on, drawing a pained groan from Catelyn.

At her back, Jaime cried out in shock. “Are you saying that you’re related to Ser Duncan the Tall!?
Wench, that is nothing to jape about. You should not jape about great knights nor battles.”

Brienne furrowed her brows as she glanced over her shoulder. Continuing to move towards the
Starks, she responded; her tone betraying her confusion. “Why would I jape about that? He is my
great-grandfather. Is it truly so hard to believe? All you do is mock my size.”

As Brienne approached Catelyn, a strange expression flashed across the woman’s face.
“What’s wrong, my lady?”

“What has happened to Ser Jaime? He’s gone dumb over there.”

Brienne turned back and observed Jaime. He was rooted in place. His face was the picture of shock
as he stood mouthing silent words.

Calling back to him, Brienne tried to encourage him forward. “Supper will not be brought to you.
You must go inside the castle.”

He soon renewed his slow pace forward. It was nearly painful to watch his face work it all out.
When he approached, he kept stammering nonsense. “You’re certain? Is this a jape?”

Catelyn looked to Brienne in confusion. “What is he on about?”

“He doesn’t understand why the armory has my great-grandfather’s shield in it.”

Jaime guffawed. “That’s not just any shield nor is it any great-grandfather! That is Ser Duncan’s
shield, wench!” Something flashed in Jaime’s eyes as he looked to her imploringly. “Can I hold
it!?”

Catelyn tilted her head curiously at Brienne. “You’re related to Ser Duncan? Gods. I’ve heard far
too many tales of Ser Duncan from Old Nan at Winterfell. Exhausting.”

Jaime gasped at Catelyn with an incredulous expression on his face. “This is just so insignificant to
you, isn’t it Lady Stark? Typical! Just some dull stories. She is related to Ser Duncan the Tall! One
of the greatest knights to have ever lived. Lord Commander of King Aegon’s Kingsguard! It
explains a lot, that’s for sure!”

Catelyn cackled and covered her mouth as mirth flooded her eyes. “Gods, Jaime. As if you needed
another reason to be so hopelessly obsessed. This is too much. I’m hungry and going inside.”

Brienne’s brows furrowed as the Stark women retreated into the castle; Catelyn laughing the entire
way like a madwoman.

What was that about?

When she glanced back at Jaime, his cheeks were pink and his eyes wide. Glancing towards the
castle, he muttered under his breath.

“Enough of this. I’m hungry too.”

Supper proved equally exhausting. Jaime sat as close to Selwyn as he could and peppered the older
lord with questions about Ser Duncan.

“Did you ever train with him? What was he like? How tall was he? What was his weapon of
choice? Did you see him often?” And on, and on, and on.

Brienne pinched the bridge of her nose. Her father was thoroughly overwhelmed by it all, and
Catelyn couldn’t stop laughing as the night went. Turning to Brienne at one point, she leaned over
and laughed quietly.

“Gods. He did this exact thing to my uncle when he visited Riverrun as a boy. I fear for you. Once
we leave here, he’ll be asking you to recount any tale that your father once told you of Ser Duncan.
As if he didn’t contrive enough reasons to speak with you.”
The next day, Brienne stood on the dock and glanced to her father. He looked forlorn and tried to
mask it by looking to the sky as though appraising the weather. “Good winds. You should make
good time.”

Nodding in agreement, Brienne watched as the last of the Tarth soldiers loaded onto the ships at
her back. The Lannister brothers, Bronn, and Pod had just boarded, leaving only Lady Stark and
Sansa at Brienne’s back.

Feeling a bit awkward and uncertain how best to say goodbye, Brienne smiled weakly and took a
step back. “Well I suppose I need to board. Thank you for the aid. I will honor the agreement made
when the war is done.”

Selwyn nodded and raised a hand, gesturing his goodbye. As Brienne turned to walk away, she felt
his massive hand at her shoulder. “Wait. Just a moment.”

Brienne’s eyes darted back to Selwyn. He looked pained as he searched for the words. “Please, be
safe. I worry for you, child.”

With a small smile, Brienne nodded. “I haven’t gotten myself killed yet. You’ve trained me well.”

Abruptly, Selwyn pulled her into a firm hug. Brienne’s eyes went wide in shock. She had never
been held by her father. He felt warm. He felt like home.

“Come back to me when this is done. Whatever husband you pick, just… don’t forget your old
man.”

Brienne smiled as Selwyn broke the embrace. “Of course. I’ll return, father.”

Turning to the Stark women, Brienne noticed the wide smile on Catelyn’s face. They moved
towards the gangway and Brienne heard Catelyn call out to Selwyn. “You have my word, Lord
Selwyn. On my honor as a Tully and a Stark.”

Once aboard the ship, Brienne moved towards the front deck to watch as they pushed back from
the docks. In total, Tarth sent three ships which housed forces from Tarth and two nearby Houses.
Most of the Stormlands forces planned to arrive at the Crossroads within a week of their group.

Brienne looked down at the towering figure of her father. He raised a hand to bid her goodbye as
the ships pushed back. Brienne prayed she could make him proud someday.

She and her father had spent a good amount of time speaking privately that week. The topics made
her uncomfortable, but it seemed a burden that he needed to unload. He spoke of her mother and
siblings. Of his regrets. Of his failed attempts to father her properly.

Despite her childhood, Brienne loved her father. Even if she couldn’t make a match, she would do
her duty to Tarth. She would serve as well as she could when the time came and then find someone
worthy to run the island when she died alone with no heir.

Looking at her father, Brienne returned his gesture and smiled warmly as she waved.

I’ll be back. Alone as ever, but it is a debt that I’ll pay.

Their plan was to sail towards the Bay of Crabs and make dock near the Saltpans. From there, it
should be a short march towards the Crossroads where they would await the rest of their combined
armies.
As the view of Tarth faded into the horizon, Brienne made her way below deck. The Lannister
brothers, Pod, and Sansa sat around a table laughing and talking as Catelyn spoke with one of
Tarth’s commanders. Selwyn had placed the men under Brienne’s command in his stead, but she
worried over it.

She wasn’t a leader and didn’t want men following her. She only wanted to serve Lady Stark and
do her part when the time came.

Feeling a bit awkward in the social atmosphere, Brienne quietly made her way towards her
sleeping quarters. Each room was lined with several bunks. The three women had been afforded
their own by the men for the sake of propriety.

Sitting on the bed, Brienne smiled as she removed her sword and sword belt. The sword
represented Ser Jaime’s respect in her skill. It was something no man had afforded her before.
Putting the sword on the bed, Brienne reached into her jerkin pocket and produced her mother’s
necklace.

Selwyn had given it to Brienne the day prior. He told her to wear it to keep her mother with her
always. It was a beautiful sapphire gem set in a silver chain. A light knock came at the door before
it slowly pushed open.

Quickly putting the necklace back in her pocket, Brienne glanced up to see Jaime enter the small
room.

“So now that you’re an army commander, you’re too good to sit with us?” His voice was teasing as
he appraised the small quarters.

Brienne felt her cheeks flush as they often did in his presence. Keeping her eyes fixed on the floor,
she shrugged and played at indifference.

“I just thought I might put my things down.”

Jaime snorted and sat next to her. “Things? Your travel lighter than a beggar. All you brought was
the sword.”

“That’s all that I need to keep Lady Catelyn safe.”

With a sigh, Jaime shook his head and leaned back against the wall. “Some armor would have
helped.”

Embarrassment coursed through Brienne. She had tried to procure armor in the village near the
harbor, but they had none that would fit someone of her size. The humiliation was too great to
mention to anyone.

“I can move better without it.”

Jaime groaned at the words. “Gods, wench. You’ve truly never been in a battle. You need armor.”

Brienne shrugged and a momentary silence filled the small room. Jaime tapped the underside of
the bunk above with his gold hand.

It was a cramped space, and Brienne had to duck slightly while sitting on the edge of the bed so
that her head didn’t hit the underside of the top bunk. With Jaime leaning against the wall behind
her, Brienne felt the heat creep up her neck at his continued presence.
“Always the conversationalist, wench. I’m bored.”

With a sigh, Brienne shrugged and kept her eyes trained on the floor. “Yes, we’ve been over this.
I’m as boring as I am…”

Before she could finish, Jaime began singing the most awful, off pitch version of ‘the Bear and the
Maiden Fair’.

Oh gods. Not that song.

Covering her ears, Brienne shook her head. “Stop. It’s awful.”

Brienne’s request only encouraged Jaime to sing louder. The pitch worsened as he belted the tune.
“No. No. Truly, you’re shit at singing.”

“Can you do better, wench? Sing me a song.” Jaime sat forward and raised a brow. “Can you
sing?”

“I don’t sing.” Shaking her head, Brienne looked away. In truth, she could sing, but she hated the
attention it brought. Her father always kept singers at Tarth. Music seemed to be the one thing that
soothed his sour moods after her mother passed.

As result, she learned many songs and sang to herself as she walked through the castle grounds. On
more than one occasion, her voice would draw interest until staff members or visiting nobles saw
her face.

Brienne felt a finger poke into her ribs. “I think you’re lying. Let me hear, wench.”

Groaning in frustration, Brienne batted his hand away. “I’m not singing.”

“So, you do sing! I knew it. Come now, wench. Sing me to sleep. This bed looks cozy enough.”

Jaime continued to poke at her middle and tease her. One poke sent a jolt through Brienne. Leaping
away, she smashed her head on the bunk above. A sharp pain radiated throughout her skull as she
clutched her head.

“Oh, fuck! I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.” Jaime’s flesh hand grabbed at her head. The feel of his
hand on her sent a warmth through Brienne that made her blush intensify. Trying to move away,
Jaime only moved closer while continuing to apologize.

“It’s fine. I’m fine, thank you.” Turning her head slightly, Brienne startled at how close he was. He
was looking at her strangely as their eyes locked.

Before either could speak, the door flew open and Catelyn walked in. Jaime moved back quickly to
provide more appropriate distance between them.

“Jaime Lannister! What are you doing in here? This is hardly appropriate.”

Jaime snorted. “Acting dishonorably. Come now, Lady Stark. Do you feel left out? I’m no Tyrion,
but I might be able to manage you both.”

“Ugh! Disgusting. Get out.” Catelyn glared at him and pointed a finger towards the door. Brienne’s
blush deepened at the exchange and how it all must have looked to Lady Catelyn. She did not wish
the woman to think ill of her.

With a deep sigh, Jaime stood up and moved towards the door. Catelyn shoved him out from the
room, but she whispered something to him which Brienne could not hear. She only saw Jaime sigh
and nod before walking away.

As the door shut, Jaime shouted one final remark that reached Brienne’s ears. “I’ll keep singing
until you sing for me!”
 “No one harms my wench”
Chapter Summary

The Stormlands forces arrive at the mainland and make camp on the first night. Jaime
takes another misstep with Brienne, but receives advice from an unlikely source.

They didn’t make much progress towards the Crossroads that first day. By the time the ships
docked and unloaded, there was limited daylight before they had to make camp for the night. They
had 1,000 men of the expected 5,000 from the Stormlands.

Their small group of seven had setup two tents on the outskirts of camp. Even though Jaime knew
the men from the Stormlands were under Brienne’s command, he was uneasy about having the
three women housed in the middle of the camp.

Having dealt with camp life before, Jaime could only imagine the vulgarity and impropriety of the
men as the hours passed. It would be a scene fit for Bronn. Even though Brienne had experienced
it before, Jaime understood from Catelyn that she did not have a particularly favorable experience;
a prime example being the bet on her maidenhead.

The three women would share one of the two tents and the four men the other. They were camped
close to the most senior commanders from Tarth at the western edge of the encampment.

They sat around a small fire and rationed out some of the bread and fruit that the army brought.
Bronn and Brienne had caught game, alongside the other soldiers more adept at hunting. Jaime
was impressed at how strong the archery skills were of the Tarth soldiers.

It made sense given they lived on an island. Their prowess with the bow and arrow was as well-
known and highly regarded as Robert’s skill with the war hammer. Of course, Brienne seemed to
be the best with the bow and arrow.

Selwyn had challenged her on Tarth; thinking her skills may have slipped since being away from
home. The show that she put on was most impressive. She hit targets from a range Jaime had not
thought possible.

Brienne leaned slightly against a large boulder as she tore her bread into the smallest pieces that
Jaime had ever seen. It was like watching a bird eat. Jaime could hardly help but chuckle at the
sight.

How can a woman so tall and physical, eat so daintily?

The rest of their group was deep in multiple side conversations. An idea flashed through Jaime’s
mind and he could barely suppress the smile threatening to give him away. Moving closer to
Brienne, Jaime pretended at studying something at her back.

His eyes went wide in mock horror which caught her attention. Brienne looked to him with
furrowed brows. “What?”

“Gods. Don’t move. That is the biggest snake I’ve ever seen in my life.”
At his words, Brienne screamed and jumped up. The sound was the last thing he expected to her
escape her lips. It was girly and unexpected. Jaime couldn’t stop laughing at her reaction as
Brienne frantically searched for the imaginary assailant.

When she realized he had lied, Brienne’s face set into an incredible scowl. Her cheeks reddened as
she looked back at the group in embarrassment. The Tarth men from the neighboring fire were
looking over in confusion; their brows knitted as they tried to see what was going on. Seeing
Jaime’s reaction, they started chuckling and shaking their heads.

Looking back to him, Brienne spoke him through gritted teeth. “I hate you! You are the worst!”
Kicking Jaime as hard as she could in the thigh, Brienne stormed off towards her tent.

Despite the radiating pain in his leg, Jaime could hardly suppress the laughter pushing past his lips.
The rest of their group looked to him in confusion as he wiped the tears from his eyes.

It was Catelyn who stood in anger and walked over to him. “What did you do?”

Biting back another laugh, Jaime shrugged innocently. “I am spending quality time with the
wench.”

Catelyn spoke in an angry whisper as she leaned down; her eyes narrowed and her features writ
with disapproval. “She did not look like she was enjoying it! I said to woo her! Not anger and upset
her!”

Jaime smiled “I am wooing her. Did you not see how happy she looked?”

“She did not look happy. She looked like she means to murder you.”

“Yes, and she enjoys killing people. I wish to make her happy.” Jaime started chuckling again as
Catelyn huffed in annoyance.

Catelyn stood upright and glared at him. “Grow up, Jaime.”

Stomping off towards the tent, Catelyn moved inside, and Jaime felt his spirits fall slightly. He
glanced to his brother and saw Tyrion shake his head in disapproval.

These people are no fun. I only meant to jape with the wench. They act as though I murdered
someone.

When eventually Catelyn and Brienne emerged from the tent, Jaime watched as they made their
way to the neighboring fire of Tarth’s lead commanders. Jaime had met a couple of them on the
ships. They seemed affable enough and they held great respect for their lord.

Catelyn had her arm on Brienne’s elbow and guided her to the men. She smiled in the most
obnoxious Tully way possible and made small talk. From the distance, Jaime could tell that
Catelyn was making a concerted effort to involve Brienne in the conversation. It was evident by
the pinking of Brienne’s cheeks that Catelyn was complimenting her.

Jaime rolled his eyes, but when he saw the returning smiles of the men directed at Brienne, he felt
a familiar sensation return. Jealousy.

Catelyn’s trying to get back at me. Parading Brienne around in front of other men like some
brothel proprietor. She certainly does know Littlefinger.

As Jaime’s mood darkened and his thoughts became bitter, he averted his eyes and tried to ignore
the men’s amicable laughter.

It’s only a matter of time before they’re back. Catelyn just means to make a point of it. What could
they possibly have to discuss with soldiers? It isn’t as though they’ve been among camps before…

Realizing quickly how wrong he was, Jaime’s eyes darted back to the group. The men made room
around the fire and offered seats to the women.

Bronn and Pod stood from their spots around the fire and made their way towards the center of the
camp; no doubt looking to enjoy time with the rowdier men.

Tyrion and Sansa were enjoying one another’s company as Jaime’s little brother made the young
Stark laugh repeatedly. It hit Jaime for the first time just how alone he was.

Mayhap Tyrion had the right of it. I ruin every chance at happiness.

Loud laughter from the neighboring fire brought Jaime’s attention back to the Tarth men, Catelyn,
and Brienne.

One of the commanders had moved next to Brienne and was genuinely laughing at whatever she
had said. Her cheeks were flushed slightly as she looked down and fidgeted with her long fingers.
The man was sitting too close to her. His eyes too pleased as he looked upon her face.

The only person enjoying it more than Brienne and the commander was Lady Catelyn. Jaime noted
the sincere smile on Catelyn’s face; a contentment that Brienne was having a good time. Looking
again to Brienne, Jaime could see the smile still on her lips.

She never smiles with me. She scowls a lot. Rolls her eyes or huffs in annoyance.

Catelyn soon left Brienne to return to her spot by Sansa. From time to time, Jaime would hear
Catelyn groaning at Tyrion’s stories, or chuckling at his wit.

Jaime’s attention returned to Brienne. She was enjoying the time with the Tarth commanders. The
sight of her happy caused a swirl of conflicting emotions in Jaime. He was pleased to see her
laughing easily, but he was upset that it wasn’t him putting the carefree smile on her face.

Jaime was startled by a sudden presence at his side. Sansa sat down beside him, while Tyrion and
Catelyn squabbled over some shared experience in the Vale. The young girl’s presence was
surprising. They had never had a direct conversation to that point.

“Why don’t you go join them? With how much you’re staring, you might as well participate.”
Sansa’s tone was matter of fact as she looked to the small group from Tarth.

Jaime scoffed. “I’m not staring.”

Sansa hummed at his side and raised an unimpressed brow. “You’re shit at courting, you know.”

“What? I’m not courting anyone!” Jaime looked to Sansa. His eyes wide in disbelief.

“I know you’re not. There is no way that what you’re doing could possibly be considered courting
by any sensible adult.” Sansa offered the most Catelyn Stark expression that Jaime ever bore
witness to. Her brow raised and her eyes danced with sarcasm.

Gods. The girl is Catelyn’s clone. Am I to be lectured by this child now?

“I hardly know what you mean.”

Sansa huffed in annoyance and shook her head. “Hopeless.” With a dramatic sigh, Sansa looked to
the stars above and began speaking without looking to Jaime.

“She likes the nighttime more than the daytime. She hates roses. She likes songs and tales of fair
maidens and dashing knights. She dislikes the taste of boar, but she will eat it to be polite. Fish is
her favorite. You wouldn’t think it given how lean she is, but she likes sweets. We both like lemon
cake the best.”

Looking back to him, Sansa raised a brow. “Did you know any of that, or do you never get a
chance to ask because you’re too busy making her flee from hurt or embarrassed?”

Jaime’s eyes went wide, and he struggled to find the words to reply.

“That’s what I thought. It’s funny. I always thought that the perfect husband would be a handsome
prince or a knight. When I heard that I was to marry your nephew, I was elated. I was so busy
looking at the boy on the surface, that I failed to see the sick, twisted soul on the inside.”

Sansa’s tone soured as her eyes darkened. “He tortured me. Emotionally he tried to break me. He
made me look upon my father’s head atop the castle wall. He berated me before the court. He
spoke to me as though I was stupid and worthless. Physically, he had others hit me, because he was
too much a coward to do it himself.”

Jaime grimaced at the words. He began to apologize, but Sansa put her hand up. “That’s not why I
tell you this.”

Taking a deep breath, Sansa continued. “Your sister was no different than Joffrey. I didn’t
understand how people so beautiful on the surface, could be so ugly beneath. The only person to
offer me kindness in King’s Landing was Tyrion. He protected me from them. When word came of
your family’s destruction of mine, Tyrion comforted me, and I hated myself for it.”

Jaime’s brows furrowed at her words. A slight mist coated Sansa’s eye. “I was embarrassed when
your father forced our marriage. It felt like the greatest jape, being married off to ‘the Imp’. I didn’t
appreciate the man under the surface. Your brother makes me smile. He makes me laugh. He asks
questions aimed at eliciting fond memories. He got to know my preferences.”

A wistful smile stretched across Sansa’s face. “I didn’t need to say anything when the maids
brought eggs and cured meats in the morning. He sent it back, knowing I preferred tea cake and
fruit. He knows that I hate the night because I’m still afraid of the dark, so he kept all the shades
open to let the moonlight in. He prefers the dark.”

Glancing to Tyrion, Sansa smiled as the younger Lannister continued to have a go at her mother.
“He knew how desperate I was to see my mother, so he stayed with me on the ship that night. I
know he wanted to go back for Shae, but he wouldn’t leave me. He knew that I was frightened we
might need to leave before my mother returned with you.”

Sansa looked back at Jaime. “I spent every day of my life at Winterfell valuing the wrong qualities
in a person. I would have been unnecessarily cruel to your brother had I not been given this harsh
lesson by Joffrey and Cersei. I would have treated Tyrion as everyone does. With cruelty.”

Shaking her head, Sansa glanced back at Tyrion. “I see the deep breath he takes before every
introduction to a new acquaintance. I see him ready for the jape when someone speaks of him. He
makes japes at his own expense to try and beat others to it. He thinks it might hurt less. That is
how I recognized it in Brienne.”
Jaime looked down at the words. He knew where this was going.

“Every time you go near Brienne, I see her tense. She is waiting for the jape. It is worse when
others are around. It’s as though she thinks everyone else is in on some great jape at her expense.
I’m embarrassed to think what I might have thought of her or said to her before my painful lessons
in King’s Landing.”

Sansa glanced at the group from Tarth. “My mother didn’t bring her over there to make you
jealous, so stop looking at the men as though you wish them dead. She brought her over there to
spend time with her bannermen so that she may realize they were not laughing at her. The one
sitting closest to her, Ser Brent, was her brother’s best friend before he died. They were telling
stories of Tarth.”

Oh.

As if receiving the confirmation she sought, Sansa snorted and spoke again. “It’s a shame that your
form of courting is the thing she fears most. Japes. I know all that you’ve done for her. I see the
way you look at her. We all do. She just can’t see it, because she doesn’t think herself lovable. She
has always been a jape and you continue to make her feel like one.”

Without another word, Sansa stood up and walked back to her mother. She bid the pair goodnight
before going into the tent.

Jaime reflected on Sansa’s words. He glanced back at Brienne as she sat around the neighboring
fire. She was quietly listening to one of the commanders speak as the others laughed. Not long
after, she got up and left the group.

Jaime watched as she walked away. Instead of retreating to the tent, she quietly ducked into the
woods. There was a small clearing just off the camp that she seemed to be walking towards.

Jaime was tired, but he wanted to ensure she returned safely. When Brienne didn’t emerge in a
reasonable amount of time, he quietly moved in the direction she fled.

Jaime walked out from the woods and towards the clearing. The sound of the large encampment at
his back filled the night sky. The further he walked, the more the sound of men’s voices was
drowned out by the sound of crickets. Then he saw her.

Brienne was laying on her back, staring up at the night sky. At his approach, she sat up quickly.

“It’s just me. Please don’t run me through with that sword at your hip. Hopefully you don’t have
any daggers to throw either.” Jaime teased slightly, but he was mindful not to say anything that
might offend.

Her body relaxed slightly as she mumbled a greeting.

Jaime moved closer and spoke again. “I saw you come this way. I only meant to ensure you are
alright.”

Brienne’s brows furrowed slightly, and she nodded. “I’m fine. I just needed…”

“Some fresh air?” Jaime teased as he interrupted her. He sat down beside her and looked up at the
sky. “Not quite the cliffs, but I suppose its better than the forest canopy.”

Brienne returned to her back again and hummed in agreement. Laying down next to her, Jaime put
his arms under his head. A momentary silence fell over them. Jaime turned his head to glance at
her.

“I’m sorry about earlier. I only meant to have a little fun with you.”

Brienne’s jaw tensed for a moment, but she spoke cautiously after a moment. “It’s fine.”

“You didn’t seem fine. I didn’t mean it, truly. I just wanted to have fun with you.” Jaime hoped that
she could hear the sincerity of his words. He had no desire to mock her or put her in a position
where others laughed at her.

“That’s a strange way of japing with someone.” Brienne sighed after replying. She looked tired and
miserable. Jaime hated it. He desperately needed to make her smile as the Tarth men had.

His instinct was to jape in response, but he remembered Sansa’s words from earlier. He didn’t want
Brienne to feel mocked. He tried Tyrion’s approach instead. Self-deprecation.

“Well I’m a bit out of practice in the art of amicable conversation. No one at Robb Stark’s camp
wished to come near me long enough so that I may maintain the skill. They said I smelled too
much like the privy.”

Brienne smiled slightly but kept her eyes fixed on the stars. “You did smell awful.”

Feigning offense, Jaime scoffed and rolled onto his stomach so that he was even closer and looking
down at her. “Rude. I couldn’t possibly have smelled worse than Septa Roelle likely did the other
night.”

Brienne’s smile grew impossibly wider. Her eyes sparkled in the moonlight and Jaime wanted
nothing more than to lean down and kiss her. Jaime knew that he was staring, but he couldn’t take
his eyes off her.

“That was awful. We shouldn’t have done that.” Brienne sighed and her smile faded.

Jaime snorted, but when he spoke, it was with the utmost sincerity. “She deserved that and more. I
aim to do far worse to the Boltons for what they did to you. No one harms my wench.”
 “He is as feisty as ever”
Chapter Summary

The group arrives at the Crossroads to meet with the West. Some introductions are
made

Chapter Notes

Double posting day since this chapter is really more of a setup chapter. Posting this
and the next chapter together (chapter 35).

Brienne was shocked at the number of red tents stretching as far as the eye could see. They had
reached the crest of a hill just west of the crossroads and found themselves staring down at the
Lannister army below.

Glancing to Catelyn, Brienne observed the woman’s shocked expression slowly transform into a
smile. Jaime and Tyrion looked all too pleased with themselves. The younger of the Lannister
brother glanced at Catelyn and spoke teasingly. “Look at that goodmother. I bet you’ve never been
so happy to see the Lannister sigil.”

“You’ve ruined the moment yet again.” Catelyn sighed dramatically, but she could hardly remove
the smile plastered to her face.

At Brienne’s side, Jaime took a deep breath and looked over his shoulder at their group of 1,000.
“Alright. Lets go find Addam and introduce the east to the west.”

The march into the camp was short and aided by the downslope. A slight hesitation lined the faces
of the Stormlanders as they passed by the curious eyes of the men from the West. Brienne was
impressed at the discipline of the West’s soldiers.

They did not strike her as a rowdy bunch. The atmosphere was much more subdued than the men
from the Stormlands. Most appeared productive; polishing their weapons or cleaning their
campsites.

Their armor roared as loudly as the Lannnister sigil. A sea of lion heads swimming in crimson and
gold stretched out as far as the eye could see. Eager eyes landed on their lord and Warden. The
West’s excitement at their commander’s return was palpable as their group moved towards the
middle of the camp.

“Ser Jaime is here! The lion of Lannister is back!”

Tyrion did not lie. These truly are Jaime’s men.

A commotion from a set of tents caught Brienne’s attention. A tall redhead with a wide smile came
rushing towards them. He was flanked by several men whose armor spoke volumes of their rank in
the army.

“There he is! Fucking hells! Took you long enough!” The man barreled into Jaime and hugged him
tightly.

Stepping back, the redhead appraised Jaime; his eyes landing on the false hand. With a grimace he
shook his head. “We heard about that. I’m sorry for it.”

Jaime’s glanced at Brienne. A wave of guilt washed over Brienne at the reminder of what Jaime
lost protecting her. A smile tugged at Jaime’s lips before he looked back to his friend. “I’m not.
Come on. Let me introduce you to our group.”

Before Jaime could begin introductions, Addam’s eyes landed on Tyrion. “There he is! My favorite
Lannister brother.” Addam pushed Jaime away playfully and clapped Tyrion on the shoulder. With
a dramatic wink, Tyrion japed at paying him later for the remark.

After the quick introduction to Bronn and Pod, Jaime directed Addam to Brienne. “This is Lady
Brienne Tarth. Don’t piss her off or she’ll slit you from balls to throat without second thought.”
With a proud smile, Jaime raised a brow at her.

“Lady Brienne, this is Ser Addam Marbrand. He is decent with a blade, but as inappropriate as
Bronn. Believe nothing he tells you; particularly about me.”

Addam guffawed and grabbed Brienne’s hand, placing a kiss to her knuckles. At the formality,
Brienne’s face flushed. With a wide smile, Addam turned to Jaime.

“We heard of your betrothal. It was the talk of the West before other events distracted the men.”

Brienne felt panic wash over her; her eyes darting to Jaime. She could see his face redden, and her
heart sank at the embarrassment her appearance must have caused him. Hoping to spare Jaime the
insult, Brienne spoke urgently.

“We’re not betrothed, Ser Addam. King Tommen only meant to form an alliance between the
crown and the Stormlands. As you can see, that won’t be happening.”

Hoping to see Jaime’s spirits lift, Brienne was surprised when his lips turned down slightly. Before
she could think on it further, Addam chuckled and spoke bitterly.

“Well it appears the crown means to forge another alliance using you. Given Ser Jaime’s current
status with the crown, the King has instead betrothed you to the new Lord of Casterly Rock and
Warden of the West, Ser Gregor Clegane. Suffice it to say, the West is displeased with the
appointment. We expected to have 10,000 move north with us. We’ve earned an extra 5,000.”

Jaime’s jaw clenched at Addam’s side. “Gods damnit Cersei.” Brienne was surprised to see the
apology in Jaime’s eyes as he looked to her. The crown’s decree made little sense to her.

“I thought the crown would execute me. Why would King Tommen betroth me to their named
warden and Lord of Casterly Rock?”

Both Addam and Jaime grimaced at the question, but it was Addam who spoke. “You’ll wish for
an execution should Ser Gregor get his hands on you.”

“He won’t!” Jaime growled at Addam’s side. The redhead hardly flinched at his friend’s reaction.
After muttering some obscenities, Jaime looked to Brienne and shook his head. “I won’t let that
thing come near you.”
Addam quickly explained what Ser Gregor was. His past deeds and the opinions of House Clegane
held by the West.

Brienne’s eyes went wide, and Catelyn gasped from behind her. The sound drew Addam’s
attention away from Brienne and to Lady Stark. His eyes went wide in shock.

“Gods. It can’t be…”

Jaime snorted and spoke teasingly while holding Catelyn’s eye. “Yes, it can be. This wretched
woman has been following me about for moons now. She’s completely enamored with me and
hoping to take advantage of my release from the Kingsguard.”

Catelyn scoffed and fell into her usual routine of berating Jaime. “I should have killed you moons
ago. You are annoying beyond comprehension.”

“Yes, so annoying. Me and the army of 15,000 here to help you reclaim your home.” Jaime
laughed as he spoke and pointed dramatically around the encampment.

Addam chuckled falsely and spoke to Jaime through gritted teeth. “You said you wanted to march
on the North. Not fight for them.”

“Seven hells. Lady Catelyn, you lied to me! You said you were a Tully when you proposed
marriage to me. Now I’ll have to reconsider. This won’t do.” Jaime hummed in mock
dissatisfaction. At Catelyn’s huff of annoyance, Jaime smiled widely and looked to Addam.

“We are moving against the North. The North which is currently under rule of House Bolton. I
have a debt to collect...” Jaime raised his hand before looking back to Catelyn and dropping any
jest from his tone. “… and a debt to pay.”

Addam shrugged; his tone showing his indifference on the matter. “It’s your army. You won’t find
any complaint from the men. So, any other surprises? You’re not hiding House Reyne in there, are
you?”

With a small laugh, Jaime shook his head. “No, just my goodsister, Lady Sansa. So as you can see,
we do owe a bit of care to House Stark.”

Addam chuckled and shook his head. “Truly. Now I’ve seen it all.”

At his back, a woman came storming towards them with her fists balled tightly. “Jaime and Tyrion
Lannister! How dare you!?”

Addam cringed at the voice and looked apologetically to the brothers. “I’m sorry. She insisted on
coming. You know how she gets. There was no stopping her.”

The Lannister brothers groaned and Tyrion elbowed Brienne lightly. “Cover your ears. She’s going
to pinch them once she realizes who you are.”

What!? Why?

The buxom woman came to a halt before them. Her braided, golden hair was slightly unkempt as
though she had left her tent halfway through setting it. She looked to be an older woman of her
father’s age.

Coming to a halt before Jaime, she aggressively pulled him into a hug. “You didn’t write me
sooner! What is wrong with you!? How was I to know you are well!?” Pulling back slightly, the
woman cupped Jaime’s face and appraised him. With a smile, she pinched his ears which elicited a
yelp from Jaime.

Her eyes trailed over him and landed at his false hand. She grimaced and grabbed his forearm.
“Those monsters! Gods damned Boltons. I warned Ty about trusting those savages! We’ll collect
the debt soon enough.”

Appraising the group, Genna’s eyes went wide when they landed on Catelyn. “By the Gods.
Jaime… what have you done?”

With a nervous laugh, Jaime rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s a funny story really…”

Genna glared at him questioningly. Before she could speak, Lady Catelyn stepped forward. “Lady
Genna, your nephew and I had an arrangement when I freed him from my son’s camp. His return
for my daughter’s return.” Catelyn extended a hand towards Sansa.

Genna looked around Catelyn’s shoulder to Sansa and sighed. It was evident to Brienne that the
woman had met Sansa before; likely at Sansa’s wedding to Tyrion. “Hello dear. Lovely to see you
again. I’m so very sorry for some of the things that have transpired since our last meeting.”

Sansa curtseyed and smiled hesitantly at Genna. “Hello Lady Genna. It’s nice to see you again.
Lord Tyrion has taken good care of me through it all.”

Genna’s eyes sparkled with pride at the words. “Where is he now? Where is my other bothersome
nephew?”

Scanning the group, Genna’s eyes struggled to find Tyrion. It was only then that Brienne realized
she was being used as a shield by Tyrion. He stood close at her back and shushed her teasingly.
“Say nothing of my location and I’ll pay you handsomely.”

Brienne snorted and moved her legs back and forth in an effort to expose him. At the movement,
Genna huffed in irritation and stormed over.

“Damn you Tyrion! Gods. You’re worse than your brother. Come give your aunt a proper
greeting.” Tyrion laughed loudly and extended his arms. As soon as Genna knelt to hug him,
Tyrion covered his ears in anticipation.

When Genna realized what he was doing, she huffed and stood upright. “Good to see you looking
well, Tyrion.” Her eyes moved back to Brienne; a question on the tip of her tongue. “Who is this
one? Gods you’re tall! Look at those legs!”

Brienne felt her face flush and Jaime moved quickly to her side. “This is Lady Brienne Tarth, and
these are the men under her command.” Jaime extended his hand back towards the Stormlanders at
their backs.

A knowing smile spread across Genna’s face. “Ah, yes. Lady Brienne Tarth. I was quite surprised
to hear of your betrothal to my nephew. I can see why he picked you.”

Brienne felt her face flush as she moved to correct Genna. “Oh no, my lady. Ser Jaime was only
doing his part to honor the oath to Lady Catelyn. The betrothal was born out of necessity…
obviously.”

Genna chuckled and looked to Jaime with a knowing expression. “Yes, right. A necessity. I don’t
care how honorable this dolt leads you to believe he is. He would never wed anyone out of duty
alone. My brother spent most of his life trying to accomplish just that.”
Catelyn snorted at Brienne’s side and tried to muffle a laugh. Appraising Brienne again, Genna’s
brows rose excitedly. “This is perfect. Just wonderful.”

Jaime’s face was the color of his House banners and Brienne felt awful for him. He was being
teased because of her. A cruel transference of her own undesirable nature onto him as though a
reflection on his poor judgement.

She mouthed an apology to Jaime, but he was too busy imploring Genna to shut up about it.

Pushing Jaime away lightly, Genna smirked before returning to more serious topics. “Give it to me
true, Jaime. I trust your judgement in this. Are the wolves to be our allies then?”

With a sigh, Jaime glanced at Catelyn. “I suppose its better than being flayed.” The words drew a
small laugh from Catelyn. She stepped closer to Genna and spoke with certainty.

“Your nephews have done more for me than I could have dared ask of them. When this battle is
done and the North returned to my House, the North will call the West an ally. We will not move
against you unless you move against us.”

Genna glanced uneasily to Jaime who nodded in agreement. “I won’t move against the crown, but I
won’t support them either. I think… I think Cersei killed father.”

With sympathetic smile, Genna grabbed Jaime’s arm and squeezed. “Of course she did Jaime. I
doubt she was alone in it though. We must be careful and not speak of this out here. Even among
your men, there are ears everywhere.”

Looking back at Catelyn, Genna inclined her head. “Lets remove the Boltons and deal with the rest
later. Oh, and I suppose since we’re allies now, there is one matter to discuss.”

Brienne glanced to Catelyn whose brows were knitted together. With a sigh, Genna glanced at
Addam who offered little more than a small shrug and hum of encouragement.

“My husband’s dolt family was awarded Riverrun for their behavior at Lord Edmure’s wedding.”
Brienne watched as Catelyn’s face flashed with rage at the words. Putting up a placating hand,
Genna nodded in understanding.

“I know. Horrid. Well the great dolts lost their prize to a group of Tully rebels led by a rather
stubborn fish. Your uncle lives. He is as feisty as ever.”
 “What are you doing here”
Chapter Summary

Almost a week has passed as the group waits for the rest of the Stormlands to arrive.
Jaime tries to get closer to Brienne

Chapter Notes

Double posting day. Posting this and the previous chapter (chapter 34).

See the end of the chapter for more notes

“Fuck, she’s good.” Addam sat down panting beside Jaime. He took a long swig of water and
wiped at his mouth with the back of his arm.

Jaime chuckled softly as he watched Brienne make quick work of the next of his officers. She had
made fools of them all, and Jaime loved her more for it. Addam had been the latest to fall to her
prior to the man now below her blade.

Just a distance away, Catelyn smiled widely as she watched on. Her sworn sword made quick work
of the West’s best and it amused Catelyn endlessly.

Genna’s voice in Jaime’s left ear distracted him from the wench. “So explain to me again why you
haven’t carried her off to a sept yet.”

Jaime huffed a small laugh and spoke bitterly. “And break King Tommen’s latest betrothal
between her and Ser Gregor Clegane, Lord of Casterly Rock, and Warden of the West?”

With a groan, Genna ran a hand over her face. “What a mess, Jaime. Your sister has lost her mind. I
fear for Myrcella in Dorne. Now you tie us to the gods damned Tullys and Starks.”

At the mention of Myrcella, Jaime grimaced. They had been at the encampment for six days. The
last of the Stormlands contingent arrived the night prior. All 5,000 Stormlanders were eager to
move out in support of their new alliance with the North.

If ever a kingdom needed an ally, it was the Stormlands. They had been pleased to hear that the
West would remain neutral in any wars to come with the crown. The crown’s control was breaking
away kingdom by kingdom.

But Cersei had gone and made more of a mess of things. It became clear to Jaime that Oberyn had
played some hand in Tywin’s death. Cersei was many things, but random in her killings she was
not.

Every action she took was to silence a witness or remove a threat. In the case of Oberyn, Jaime
believed Cersei’s aim had been to silence a witness or a participant.

Tyrion spoke of Oberyn’s wish to kill those who participated in Elia’s death and the death of her
children. Over the past fortnight, Tyrion had theorized that Oberyn had some role in Tywin’s
murder.

A week after Tywin’s death, word had reached Genna of another mysterious death. After Dorne’s
refusal to return Myrcella, Oberyn found his quest for vengeance brought to an abrupt end. Oberyn
and his lover were found in one Littlefinger’s brothel. Their eyes had been pushed deep into their
heads. Their skulls split in two.

Jaime knew who was responsible. Based on the same man’s subsequent appointment as Lord of
Casterly Rock not a day later, it was all but confirmed at court. Now Dorne was demanding
answers from the crown as to how punishment would be dealt. Prince Doran called for justice.
Cersei did not respond.

What have you done Cersei? You’ve made another enemy. You’ve endangered Myrcella.

The sound of Brienne’s battle cries brought Jaime’s attention back to the sparring session before
him. Brienne was now fighting two men at once. Addam’s amused laughter at Jaime’s side filled
the space around them.

“Gods. You weren’t kidding. I won’t piss that one off. But those legs… gods. They go on for
days.” At Addam’s teasing tone, Jaime shoved him hard.

“That’s a noblewoman you speak of. You’re as bad as Bronn.” As if summoned by name alone,
Bronn sauntered over and sat next to Addam.

The sellsword grumbled as he flopped to the forest floor. “This encampment is shit. Not a single
camp follower to be had. No wonder ya men are so fuckin’ miserable. Them whores know what a
prude their commander is, and keep clear of camp.”

Yes. Mock me for not sticking my cock into anything that walks. Lovely.

Genna groaned in distaste at Bronn’s crass words. She muttered her disapproval under her breath.
“This one won’t do, Jaime. Deal with him. I need to go speak with our new ally about my
husband’s kin that her uncle just butchered.”

Moving swiftly towards Catelyn, Genna began to speak dramatically with her hands. Jaime
chuckled knowing that Catelyn was getting an earful. While he couldn’t hear the conversation
given the distance, Jaime could only imagine Genna’s words.

Jaime had sent a small group to Riverrun the day of his arrival at the crossroads. Their objective
was simple; retrieve the Blackfish peacefully.

The Freys had made a shoddy attempt at reclaiming their prize. Two failed sieges left them in
tatters. Upon his contingent’s approach at Riverrun, the Freys assumed the West meant to provide
aid given their alliance with the crown. It was quite the opposite really.

When Lothar Frey refused to order his men to stand down, the West made quick work of House
Frey’s army. They took old Walder’s sons, Lothar and Black Walder, as hostage.

Jaime had provided one of his officers with a handwritten missive from Catelyn for the Blackfish.
Had the West not killed off the enemy, taken Walder’s sons as hostage, and possessed the missive
from Catelyn, the Blackfish would have tried to kill off the West next.

Despite Genna’s agreement that old Walder should pay for his crimes against House Stark, Genna
had requested that Emmon’s dolt brothers be afforded a fair trial. House Stark’s grievance was with
Walder; not Lothar and Black Walder.

The Blackfish felt otherwise and killed the captive Freys on the march east. He had barked at
Jaime’s officers when confronted. “Was House Stark afforded a fair trial? Fuck the Freys!”

Jaime had to bite back a laugh the morning of the Blackfish’s arrival and subsequent argument with
Genna. It was Catelyn who acted as mediator and managed to restore peace.

Pity. It would have been nice to have a little skirmish before the battle to come. Keeps our claws
sharp.

Then the Blackfish’s eyes had landed on Jaime and a storm blew in. It took an inordinate amount of
pleading from Catelyn and nearly all of Jaime’s men to keep Brynden from tearing Jaime’s head
off.

The Stormlands had watched on in horror at the squabbling between Lannister and Tully forces. It
was the saddest attempt at uniting an army that Jaime had ever seen.

Gods. This is why we should have left Brynden in his stupid little castle. We hardly needed them,
but no. Lady Stark had to have her bloody uncle join us. We have 20,000 men. What does she think
the added 2,000 Tully rebels will do?

After the chaos died down, Catelyn had pulled Brynden aside to speak privately. Jaime seized the
opportunity to train his men with the best. He made a wager with Addam to see who could best
Brienne, knowing full well none of them could. The officers had yet to disarm her.

It was only moments earlier that Catelyn came to watch the spar after leaving Ser Brynden at
camp. A slight nod of her head was all Jaime needed to know that the talk with Brynden went well
enough. There would be no further fighting between the Tully and Lannister forces.

Now Catelyn was getting an earful from Genna. Genna knew that a missive would need to be sent
to her husband, Emmon. Jaime sighed at the thought.

Best to wait. We’ll soon include his father’s name in that list once the Starks and Tullys collect
their debt.

Genna had been playing castellan at the Rock in Tywin’s absence, and Emmon remained behind to
tend to the running of things while Genna journeyed north with Addam.

Of course, Ser Gregor knew better than to show up at the Rock to claim his prize.

Even the Mountain isn’t that stupid. Besides, he is likely too busy pillaging some village on the
outskirts of King’s Landing. With Tywin dead, Cersei likely pulled the Mountain in to act as a
personal guard.

With the sparring done, Jaime made his way to Brienne with a wide smile on his face. “Well
wench, you’ve sufficiently embarrassed my men. A nice morale boost before the battle to come.”

Brienne hummed slightly and threw a teasing smile his way. “Perhaps your swordsmanship wasn’t
the only to be exaggerated. It seems a Western trait.”

A wide smile tugged at Jaime’s lips as he recalled the first time she japed at his skill with a sword.
It was after their fight in the woods where he earned a dagger to the thigh for his troubles.

Jaime loved seeing the confident side of Brienne. With a sword in hand, no one could cut her down
physically or emotionally.

“The leaves were wet.” Jaime crowded into her space as his smile spread wider. “And you
cheated.”

Brienne scoffed; her eyes went wide in disbelief. “I did not cheat!”

They had spoken of the fight in the woods on friendly terms. Brienne shared her opinion that had
Jaime not been chained and weakened from a year in captivity, she would have met the Stranger
that day.

Nodding his head, Jaime stopped as they were nearly nose to nose. He tilted up his chin slightly to
make up the slight height advantage she had over him. He spoke defiantly at her ardent statement.
“Yes, you did.”

“How!? Did I dump water on the leaves? Did you expect me to announce my every move before
making it?”

Feeling a bit daring, Jaime grabbed her hand in his. “Your eyes were too distracting. Too blue. Too
pretty to close forever.” Jaime raised her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles before watching
an intense blush spread across her face.

Pulling her hand back, Brienne’s eyes darted around. “You shouldn’t do that.”

“Why not? Are you not a noblewoman who I just greeted?” Jaime raised a challenging brow and
watched as Brienne stammered slightly. She took a small step back in retreat.

“Your men will mock you. They thought us betrothed.”

Jaime shrugged. “Were we not?”

Brienne cleared her throat and took another step back, trying to put distance between them.

“Not for the reason they might think. I’m sorry, Ser Jaime. I should see if Lady Catelyn has need of
me.” Before Brienne could flee, Jaime grabbed her wrist.

“She’s fine. My aunt is busy harassing her.” Jaime took a deep breath before removing any
lightness from his voice. “Do you hate me? I would understand if you do. I won’t bother you if you
would rather not speak to me.”

Brienne’s brows furrowed as she looked to him. Seemingly forgetting that he was holding her
wrist, Brienne stopped trying to tug away. “Why would I hate you? How could I hate you?”

“I was a proper shit to you. I’ve tried to apologize for it, but I’m not certain you believe me. I didn’t
mean any of it.”

Brienne swallowed and shook her head. “Yes, you’ve said that you respect me. I appreciate that. I
don’t hate you Ser Jaime. I never could. You saved my life more than once. You saved me from
rape. You honor your oaths. You’re a good man.”

Jaime felt like a weight was lifted from his chest. He took another step into her space after
releasing her wrist. “Good. So then let the men say what they want. If you don’t hate me, is it such
a bad thing if they think it true? They’ll probably give you the first pour of ale or the best cut of
meat. They’d be foolish not to try and curry favor with the woman they believe to be the future
Lady of the Rock; especially one who can knock their asses into the dirt without breaking a sweat.”
Brienne snorted and rolled her eyes. “As amusing as that might be, you’ll need a proper wife at
some point. You don’t want the West thinking you actually betrothed, or it will ruin your
prospects.”

“I don’t want any prospects. I prefer swordswenches.”

Brienne’s eyes narrowed at his words, but before they could continue the conversation, Addam and
Bronn came over and slung their arms over Jaime’s shoulders.

Fucking hells. Why? Why now?

Addam hit Jaime hard in the chest. “Come on princess. Time for some bonding with the armies.
Supper is up!”

They began to drag Jaime away and he turned to see Brienne moving slowly towards Catelyn and
Genna. He kept his eye on Brienne as the men pulled him forward. She kept a respectful distance
as Catelyn and Genna finished their conversation.

The sun was already setting, and the campfires were going strong. Long shadows stretched across
the encampment. The smell of roasting game and ale filled Jaime’s nose as he was pulled towards
one of the larger fires. His top officers, the commanders from Tarth, Tyrion, and Sansa sat around
the fire.

Bronn and Addam pushed Jaime onto a log that had been rolled over to use as a seat. To his right,
Tyrion and Sansa were laughing; each with a mug of ale in hand. Jaime laughed at the sight.

Catelyn will have a proper fit if she sees that. The girl can’t be more than five and ten.

Before he could protest, Bronn shoved a mug of ale in Jaime’s hand. “Where’s ya lady?”

Glaring at the sellsword, Jaime spoke through gritted teeth. “Are you blind? Did you not see me
trying to have a conversation with her? You dolts interrupted.”

Bronn snorted and feigned innocence. “Oh. That who that was? Huh. I was too distracted by that
lovely ass.”

Shoving Bronn hard with his maimed arm, Jaime spat at the sellsword. “I told you not to speak of
her that way!”

“How do ya know I wasn’t speakin’ of ya ass?” Bronn couldn’t bother to keep a straight face as he
lied. Before Jaime could reprimand him further, Genna, Catelyn, and Brienne walked over. The
older women were still talking, but far more amicably. Brienne trailed behind with her eyes cast
down.

At the women’s arrival, Addam procured more cups of ale to hand out. Genna scrunched her nose
in distaste. “Gods, no! Where is the wine? I’m not drinking that shit. Get Lady Catelyn some wine
too. She won’t want any of that piss you men drink.”

Jaime chuckled at Catelyn’s horrified expression. His aunt was a true force of a woman and never
short of opinions.

For his part, Addam only laughed playfully. Genna had been more like an aunt to Genna just as
Genna had been more like a mother to Jaime and Tyrion. “Gods, Genna! Demanding as ever. We
haven’t any wine just as we haven’t more ale beyond these two barrels the men got from the last
village. This isn’t a tavern!”

With a huff of annoyance, Genna took a seat across the fire from Jaime. Catelyn sat beside her as
they continued their conversation from earlier. There was little room for Brienne and she instead
chose to sit on the forest floor.

Taking the opportunity to distance himself from Bronn, Jaime slid down and patted the newly
vacated space to his left with his flesh hand. “Come now wench, I don’t bite. Bronn might, but I
trust you can beat him senseless.”

“I’m fine. Thank you.” Brienne shook her head and further protested when Addam held out a mug
of ale.

“Come now, Lady Brienne. You spent all afternoon knocking me and my men here onto our asses.
We’ve become well acquainted with the forest floor unlike you. Princess over there isn’t used to it
either. He needs you to keep him company.” Addam winked at Jaime and extended his hand to
Brienne.

She again shook her head, but Catelyn shoved her upwards. “Go on, Brienne. Let these brutes sit
on the ground. You’re a lady.”

Jaime smiled victoriously as Brienne sat beside him. The firelight danced off her features and
reminded Jaime of the last time they were in the Riverlands together.

I wish I could go back and speak to her properly. Mayhap then we would be sitting at this campfire
as a true betrothal. Mayhap then we might even be wed already.

The campfire grew loud as the hours passed. It was amusing to see the Stormlands, West, and
Stark women enjoying themselves together. The Tully troops kept their distance, but caused no
further quarrels.

Jaime tried to shift closer to Brienne every time she wasn’t looking. It wasn’t until his left leg and
hip were pressed against hers that Brienne took notice. Trying to distract her, Jaime leaned in and
spoke for her ears only.

“This is very dangerous, wench. I don’t like how comfortable my aunt and Lady Stark look
together. Now I’ll have two of them harassing me.”

Brienne smiled as she looked across the fire. “I like your aunt. She seems to do a proper job
keeping you and Tyrion in line.”

“Yes, Lannister women are quite forceful. Very bossy. I was half convinced during our time in the
Riverlands that you might be a distant cousin. So demanding, wench.”

Brienne rolled her eyes at his words and Jaime couldn’t help but chuckle lightly. “Are you sure
we’re not related?”

With a raised brow, Brienne huffed. “Yes, Ser Jaime. I’m sure we’re not related. Anyone with eyes
could see that.”

Ignoring the self-deprecation in her words, Jaime smiled and went for a more direct approach.
Testing the waters, he put his left arm over her shoulders and tugged her closer. “Well we could
be.”
Brienne winced and chuckled. “Oh gods. That is awful. Is that your line? You’ll need to work on
that.”

Jaime’s heart was racing, and he prayed to the Seven that she wouldn’t shrug his arm off. She
could jape at his pathetic attempt at wooing all she wanted, so long as she didn’t reject his touch.

He swallowed thickly and watched as she fidgeted slightly, but Brienne did not move to push him
away. Biting back a victorious smile, Jaime kept his arm draped over her. With how nervous he
felt, Jaime lamented his inability to hydrate his parched throat.

His mug of ale mocked him at his feet. His useless, gold hand caught the firelight and reminded
him that just a year ago, he could have held Brienne while drinking with his free hand.

No. I can’t regret that. It would mean regretting her. I could never regret Brienne.

Genna’s knowing smirk was impossible to miss as his eyes darted across the fire. Jaime knew that
he would hear more about this later. At Genna’s side, Catelyn looked all too pleased. Then it all
went to shit.

It started off well enough. Addam was feeling his drink. He stood brazenly before the fire and
looked to Jaime and Brienne. “Uh oh. Ser Gregor would not like this, Ser Jaime! Getting too cozy
with his betrothed.”

Tyrion piped up, coming to Jaime’s aid. “Now, Addam. It is obvious the crown wishes for nothing
more than to see Lady Brienne wed to the Lord of the Rock and Warden of the West. Lets see what
the group thinks.”

Standing dramatically and looking to the West’s officers seated around the large fire, Tyrion threw
out his arms. “Come now boys! Who is your lord? Ser Jaime or Ser Gregor?”

A loud chorus of “Ser Jaime” rang out, drawing a wide smile from Jaime. Looking to his friend,
Jaime shrugged. “Well there you have it. Who am I to go against the wishes of our king? Lady
Stark knows how it works. Just as there must always be a Stark at Winetrfell, there must always be
a Lannister at the Rock. Ser Gregor could never lead the West just as Lord Bolton could never lead
the North.”

Addam guffawed and threw up his hands defensively. He glanced over to the West’s officers and
grinned. “Woah now good sers. I do agree that our preferred lord and warden is certainly among
us, but perhaps not who we might think. If Ser Jaime is wanted by the crown, surely he can’t be
lord. If we must have a Lannister, it seems we have the younger brother here.”

Tyrion bowed dramatically. “Fear not men. I am here to claim my inheritance since my brother is
unable. I already have a wonderful bride, but I suppose if I must take a second…”

Tyrion held out a hand to Brienne in jest, but Bronn quickly jumped to his feet and swatted it away.
“I was promised a fuckin’ castle by ya! Seems its high time these Lannister shits pay up! I’ll take
me castle… and me bride. Guess I got me a rock and an island!”

The boys guffawed at Bronn’s words. Addam swiftly kicked Bronn in the ass, sending the
sellsword back to the forest floor. “If anyone has earned that castle, it’s me. I put up with these two
my entire life! I’ll gladly take the young lady’s hand.”

A booming voice called out from behind the Tarth commanders. “If you’re about done trying to
steal off with my betrothed, I would like to speak with her now.”
 Everyone’s heads snapped towards the source of the outburst. The Tarth commanders craned their
necks to see who was speaking at their backs.

A man with brown hair and eyes to match stood amongst some Stormlanders who had arrived
earlier that day. Jaime’s brows furrowed and he felt Brienne’s shoulders stiffen under his arm.

Her voice was a question. “Ser Hyle? What are you doing here?”

Chapter End Notes

OK since I'm at chapter 35, I wanted to do a TV timeline check. We're near end of
season 4 in TV canon here. This means that, yes, I brought the timeline forward for the
Freys receiving/losing Riverrun and the siege attempts. Otherwise, the prior timelines
had generally followed TV canon (eg S3 mostly being the journey through the
Riverlands/catpure by Locke/etc, early S4 Red Wedding).

Re: Sansa's age (it is the first time I noted it in a chapter). I have her somewhere
between book and TV canon. (I kind of split the difference). I made her around 15 by
this point (season 4ish). Still very young, but not quite as young as books where I think
at this point, she would have been closer to 13 (I can't recall though). Similarly, I had
adjusted Brienne's age (going more early 20s as opposed to TV Brienne who was 30
and book Brienne who I think was around 19????).
 "I thought of you"
Chapter Summary

Hyle and Jaime have a 'lovely' fireside chat. Brienne isn't entirely certain what to make
of everything.

Brienne stood from the log; shock writ across her face. It had not occurred to her that Hyle would
be among the Stormlands forces. He had originally been pledged to House Tarly from the Reach.
Many from the Reach and Stormlands had dispersed after Renly’s death and Stannis’ subsequent
defeat on the Blackwater.

Hyle took a step forward and shrugged. “How could I not aid the cause when I’m betrothed to the
very woman leading the Stormlands’ army?”

He had an easy confidence about him. Hyle was a full head shorter than Brienne, but he was a man
who liked to make his presence known.

Brienne wasn’t certain how to respond. While her father had released her from the obligation to
marry Hyle, Brienne did wish to do her duty to Tarth. There would be no other man willing to
marry her, which made Hyle her only chance at making her father proud.

Before Brienne could respond, Jaime stood up. She could hear the sneer in his voice without
seeing his face. “Hyle. How wonderful of you to join us. I certainly wouldn’t have wagered on
your participation.”

At Jaime’s emphasis of the word ‘wagered’, Brienne’s eyes darted to Catelyn.

Gods. She told him.

Catelyn was too busy moving to stand beside Jaime to notice Brienne’s frantic glance. The Stark
matriarch spoke calmly, but firmly. “You’ve missed quite a lot, Ser Hyle. Brienne’s hand is not
yours to claim. Lord Tarth has withdrawn his acceptance of your offer.”

Hyle huffed a small laugh. “Well that is news to me. I should like to speak with Lady Brienne on
the matter.”

Swallowing thickly, Brienne knew that the dream she was living in moments ago was just that; a
dream. The memory of Jaime’s arm draped over her shoulders would be one that she would hold
onto and cherish for the rest of her days.

For a moment, she could pretend that she was desirable. It was a fantasy of course. Brienne knew
that Jaime only meant to be kind as Renly had once been. The ale likely aided his ability to touch
her so openly.

Although, he has been much kinder of late. Mayhap an attempt to repent for his initial cruelties.

Still, Brienne enjoyed the moment of being able to pretend at a world where she wasn’t ugly, and
Jaime did wish to make her his wife.
Reality was here now. Hyle stood expectantly and extended his hand towards her. “My lady…”

“She is not your lady.” Jaime took a menacing step forward and Brienne could sense the shift in
the atmosphere. A once jovial evening was rapidly spiraling out of control.

In a small voice, Brienne voiced her consent. “It’s alright, Ser Jaime. I’ll speak with Ser Hyle.”

Without looking back at her, Catelyn shook her head. “You will not. This man doesn’t deserve
your consideration, Brienne. Not after what he did.”

Hyle hummed in understanding. “You’ve told them of the bet. I admit, it was distasteful. Who
among us has never erred? Surely this one here has sinned enough for us all.” Hyle cast an
accusing finger at Jaime. The men at his back snickered and Brienne felt her heart begin to race.

Calling out confidently, Brienne’s tone sent a clear a warning. “Ser Hyle, mind your tongue.” She
made eye contact with the knight and offered her next remark without words.

Continue that train of thought and you will not receive the lands you desire.

Putting up his hands defensively, Hyle mouthed a false apology. “I didn’t mean to offend. Just
stating facts.”

Catelyn took a defensive posturing at Jaime’s side as she spoke. “You know as much about Ser
Jaime, as you know how to treat a noblewoman. Any chance you had to speak with Lady Brienne
died when you insulted her by participating in such a nasty wager.”

From the corner of her eye, Brienne saw Genna approaching. Her eyes were trained on Hyle; a
scowl on her face.

Leaning forward and whispering, Brienne implored Catelyn. “Please, my lady. I will just speak
with him briefly. I don’t wish to cause a scene.”

Catelyn glanced over her shoulder to meet Brienne’s eyes. The look on her face told Brienne that
there would be no debating the matter. “No, Brienne. This man does not deserve to sit at the same
campfire as you. I don’t know what is going on in that head of yours, but this is not a betrothal
worthy of you.”

The words caught Brienne by surprise. Afraid to offend her lady, Brienne bowed her head.

Jaime’s voice filled the heavy silence that had descended over them. “Run along now, Ser Hyle.
The lady does not wish to speak to you.”

“I believe she would if her head wasn’t filled with lies about me. I too want what is best for Lady
Brienne.”

Jaime shook his head and took another step forward. “You want her island. Not her. You won’t get
near her so long as I draw breath.”

A challenging smirk tugged at Hyle’s lips. “Is it true then? The songs they sing from here to
King’s Landing. From the west to the east. The Kingslayer’s Whore.”

Brienne’s eyes went wide as the firelight caught Jaime’s golden hand. It flew across Hyle’s face,
producing a sickening crack from the man’s nose. Hyle’s head snapped back at the assault and
blood poured from his face. His knees buckled slightly and the men at his back winced at the sight.
Hyle staged before recovering. He dove forward and tackled Jaime to the ground, landing a right
fist across Jaime’s face. Grabbing Hyle’s throat with his left hand, Jaime flipped them over,
pinning Hyle down with his right arm. Landing a hard left to Hyle’s already broken nose, more
blood sprayed from the knight’s face.

Jaime punched Hyle once more for good measure before climbing off him at Genna’s call to stop
the madness. Standing slowly, Hyle grabbed his nose and assessed the blood pooling in his hand.
The knight from the Reach drew his sword at Jaime and growled. “You broke my nose!”

Swords were drawn from all sides, and Addam moved protectively before Jaime. The men from
Tarth drew their swords and turned on Hyle’s small group of five Stormlanders. Looking back to
Hyle, one of the Tarth commanders, Ser Brent, barked at him.

“Stand down, Ser Hyle! You heard Lady Stark. Lord Tarth broke off the betrothal. You insult our
heir and future Evenstar.”

Greatly outnumbered, the five Stormlands that had accompanied Hyle sheathed their swords and
placed conciliatory hands in the air. It was clear they wanted no part in Hyle’s plight and would
follow orders from Tarth’s commanders.

Hyle’s face was red with rage. He turned to the Tarth commanders and pointed an accusing finger.

“You side with the West!?”

Ser Brent snorted and shook his head at Hyle. “As opposed to who? You? You’re no Stormlander.
You’re from the Reach you dolt.”

Hyle growled back at Brent and took a step forward. “You lot couldn’t even be bothered to send
aid to Renly or Stannis! Where were all of you then!?”

The Tarth commanders chuckled amongst themselves before Brent responded. “We sent Lord
Renly our best in Lady Brienne. One of her is worth 1,000 of you useless mainlanders. We heard
she knocked your best on their worthless arses at Renly’s melee. Unlike the rest of you, Lord Tarth
doesn’t unwittingly jump into every bloody rebellion. Tarth will be all that remains of the
Stormlands at this rate.”

With a huff of annoyance, Hyle turned back to Brienne.

“I had a deal with your father. The least you can do is talk to me. I only mean to make amends and
take you when no one else will.”

Jaime kept his eyes locked on Hyle. His flesh hand was balled into a fist. “Stay away from her or
the next time, I’ll do worse than break your nose.”

Hyles stormed off and Genna moved quickly to Addam’s side. “Double the guards. I don’t trust
that man.”

Jaime snorted and wiped at the blood on his face. “That’s absurd! Bloody waste of guards.”

With a firm nod, Addam sheathed his sword and barked orders to the men who had gathered to
watch the fight. “Clear out! Back to your fires! We move out in the morning!”

The men moved away as commanded. A temporary quiet fell over the surrounding fires as men
returned to their seats. Jaime’s nose was bleeding and his eye was already swelling slightly from
where Hyle’s fist connected. Brienne grimaced at the sight and felt guilt swell within.
Yet again, I’ve brought him more harm. All he does is protect me and get hurt for it.

Catelyn sighed and shook her head. Taking a step forward, she cupped Jaime’s face and appraised
his injuries. “It’s not broken. You’ll live.”

With a huff, Jaime moved back to his seat. “Of course it’s not broken. Your daughter is likely to hit
harder.”

Bronn chuckled and looked down at Jaime. “Too bad really. Ya only redeeming feature. I guess I’ll
just need to be the pretty one now.”

Uncertain of what to do, Brienne sat back down at a distance from Jaime. She eyed him
sympathetically and spoke for his ears only. “I’m very sorry about that. Hardly worth the trouble. I
would have at least spoken with him.”

Jaime’s face was incredulous. “What? Why would you speak to that miserable shit? He doesn’t
deserve it.”

With a slight shrug, Brienne spoke quietly. “He apologized.”

Jaime’s eyes narrowed and he spoke for her ears only. “He mocked you and made your
maidenhead a jape. That is disgusting.”

Before she could consider her words, Brienne spoke bluntly. “So did you.”

Shock flashed across Jaime’s face. Immediately wishing to rephrase her comment, Brienne
stammered and tried to clarify her meaning. Jaime had mocked her for weeks on end. He had
teased about her maidenhead, even if not in the same context as Hyle.

Before she was able to get the words out, Jaime stood abruptly and stormed off towards his tent.
Stunned eyes followed his retreat before cautiously turning to her. The attention made her cheeks
pink with embarrassment at the scene she continued to cause.

Every part of Brienne wished to retreat to her tent, but she felt an overwhelming need to apologize
to Jaime before seeking refuge on her bedroll. Wordlessly, she stood and slowly followed him. The
tent that he was staying in with Bronn, Addam, Pod, and Tyrion was not far from the campfire. She
called out quietly before stepping past the tent flaps.

“Ser Jaime? May I speak to you?”

A growl from inside made her take pause. “What do you want, wench? Come to compare me to
Hyle some more?”

Stepping inside, Brienne’s eyes slowly adjusted to the dim lighting. Only a small lantern in the
middle of the tent illuminated the space. She stood awkwardly near the tent flaps and tried to
compose herself.

“I didn’t mean to offend, Ser Jaime. Of course you’re nothing like Ser Hyle. I only meant to say
that you’ve mocked me too. You’ve made comments about my lack of… experience. Perhaps you
recall, ‘You’re a virgin I take it.’ or “Have you known many men, women, or horses?”

Brienne offered a nervous chuckle, hoping that making a jape of it would ease the tension. Jaime
winced at the words, but he said nothing. Uncertain what to say, Brienne swallowed thickly and
took a deep breath.
“I don’t hold any of that against you. If I refuse to speak with people who mock me, I won’t have
many people to converse with. Ser Hyle is my best chance at fulfilling my duty to Tarth. I mean to
honor my father’s request, and Ser Hyle is willing to… endure me.”

After a brief pause, Brienne tried to jape again. “Mayhap he just really enjoys the beach.”

With a glare that could melt the Wall, Jaime growled at Brienne. “That is not funny, wench! And I
told you that I didn’t mean any of that shit that I said!”

Gods. Back to this again.

“Yes, so you’ve said. You respect me now. Perhaps Ser Hyle feels the same way.”

Jaime gawked as though her words the most absurd thing he had heard all day. “This has nothing to
do with your skill with a sword! Even if he does respect that, he doesn’t respect the rest of you!”

Brienne’s face betrayed her confusion. “How do you know that? That was the first you’ve met the
man, was it not?”

With a scoff, Jaime took a step forward. His face betrayed his rage as he pointed angrily towards
the tent flaps. “That worthless shit out there? How do I know he doesn’t respect you? He made a
bet to take your maidenhead! You’re a noblewoman and he disrespected you in front of Renly’s
army; many of whom are here now! Yes, I said horrible things to you, but I would never do that.”

Brienne huffed in frustration before meeting Jaime’s eyes. “Well I can’t offend him. He could take
the offer back.”

“What offer!? There is no offer! Your father refused it. Even he sees how disgusting that man is!
You actually want to marry that creature!?” Jaime’s eyes desperately searched hers.

Brienne felt her throat tighten. It was as though a noose was choking her slowly. She didn’t want
Hyle. She knew Hyle would only make her miserable, but he was the only option she had.

Unable to give voice to her thoughts, Brienne backed up to leave. Before she could go, Jaime
grabbed her wrist as he had earlier.

“Do you know why Cersei and I fought the day of Tyrion’s trial?”

Brienne’s brows furrowed as their eyes met. In the dim lighting of the tent, there was an emotion in
his eyes that Brienne couldn’t read. She glanced towards the tent flaps and shrugged as her head
turned back towards him.

Jaime tugged Brienne closer and searched her eyes once more.

“She tried to kiss me but…”

Confusion pulled at Brienne’s features. Continuing to hold her wrist, Jaime stepped closer. His
maimed arm snaked around her waist as he moved his flesh hand to her jaw.

Before she realized what was happening, Jaime’s lips were on hers. The contact was dizzying; the
only sensation stronger was the shock she felt. When he pulled back slightly and looked into her
eyes, his voice was shaky as he concluded the sentence.

“…I thought of you.”

 "I dreamed of you"
Chapter Summary

Jaime and Brienne have a talk in Jaime's tent. Word arrives of other events in
Westeros.

“What” Brienne’s question was a whisper against his lips. Jaime could feel his heart hammering in
his chest as he looked into Brienne’s eyes. In the dim lighting of the tent, her dilated pupils nearly
stole away with her beautiful sapphires.

“I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t kiss her. I could only think of you.” Jaime’s words came out breathless.

He needed some sign, any sign, that she felt the same way. Brienne’s eyes widened in shock. She
looked around the tent as though searching for an answer. The small space was suffocating. It was
as though all the air had been sucked out at his admission.

Watching as Brienne’s mouth flapped like a fish out of water, Jaime stared at her lips. He wanted to
kiss them again. The sensation of their lips pressed together had sent him spiraling. It felt as though
he was back at the cliffs on Tarth, jumping the great distance down into the sea.

“I don’t understand. I’m not…” Brienne paused and looked away. A slightly pained expression
flashed across her face. “I’m not like her. Like Cersei.”

“Good. She’s awful. The worst.” Jaime hoped his words might lighten the mood, but Brienne only
shook her head.

“I mean that, I’m me. I’m ugly and boring and awkward…”

Nope. That won’t do.

Silencing her self-deprecating words, Jaime surged forward again and captured her lips. He knew
that any verbal counter he made would only be met with more ridiculous protests. It seemed the
best way to make her believe him was with action.

Growing a bit daring, Jaime sucked her lower lip between his teeth, earning a slight gasp from
Brienne. It was the opening he needed to deepen the kiss. Their tongues met and Jaime pulled her
closer to his body.

When Brienne hesitantly returned the kiss, Jaime felt an overwhelming relief wash over him.
Uninhibited joy coursed through his veins, and Jaime could hardly suppress the smile stretching
across his face as they kissed.

Slowly, Jaime’s hand lowered from Brienne’s cheek to her neck. The skin at her neck was soft and
warm, but he could feel her smooth flesh begin to prickle under his touch. As his hand traveled
lower to Brienne’s chest, Jaime thumbed across her nipple. The touch sent a jolt to his cock which
had already come to life when their lips met.

Desperate for Brienne to understand the sincerity of his desire for her, Jaime lowered his maimed
arm to the swell of her ass and pulled their lower bodies flush together. At the feel of his hard cock
pressed against her core, another gasp pushed past Brienne’s lips.

Fucking hells. I’ll die of want.

Jaime dragged his lips to Brienne’s jawline and trailed slow kisses to her ear. He whispered as he
nibbled at her earlobe. “I don’t find you boring or ugly or awkward. You’re the only thing I desire.
I want to marry you, wench.”

Pulling back his head to meet Brienne’s surprised eyes, Jaime swallowed thickly and shook his
head. “Not for duty though. For love.”

Brienne processed his words as her eyes darted away. The nervousness Jaime felt earlier returned.
He worried that he misread her. He worried that she had simply been too kind to push him away.

When Brienne’s eyes returned to his, she spoke quietly, but confidently. “I would have married
Hyle Hunt for duty. I would marry you for love.”

Overcome with joy, Jaime lifted Brienne. She gasped in shock and reprimanded him. “Gods. Put
me down! You’ll break your back.”

Placing Brienne down on his bedroll, Jaime couldn’t stop his mouth’s assault. Jaime placed
another deep kiss to Brienne’s lips. As much as Jaime wanted her, he could not dishonor Brienne
by taking her maidenhead in the middle of an army encampment.

Still, he couldn’t stop his hips deep press against the warmth between her legs. They both began
panting as they rubbed against one another. “Fuck. I need a Septon. Dying of want would be far
worse than drowning in a bathtub.”

Brienne’s hands cupped his cheeks and Jaime began to move more urgently against her. He
desperately needed to feel her skin. Fumbling with Brienne’s tunic, Jaime mumbled into her mouth
as he untucked the offending fabric from her breeches.

“Too much clothing, wench.”

His flesh hand slid under her tunic and to her breast. Brienne gasped at the sensation and threw her
head back, exposing the length of her long, pale neck. Sucking at the delicate skin, Jaime groaned
again. She was so beautiful. He hardly understood how he could ever think otherwise.

Seven hells. I have to stop. I’ll spill in my breeches.

Their chests heaved with want as Jaime continued to rub himself against her. The layers of fabric
were the only thing saving her maidenhead.

Jaime’s cock throbbed from want. Breaking the kiss, Jaime bit his lip and resisted the urge to untie
her breeches. Reminded of where they were, Jaime chastised himself.

They were in a field surrounded by three armies. His family was just outside and Brienne’s
unofficial mother, Lady Stark, was with them.

He wanted to see her bathed in firelight when they lay together. To push inside Brienne with her
spine properly supported by a bed. To spill deep inside her without need to find moon tea.

Smiling down at her, Jaime placed a more chaste kiss to Brienne’s lips, slowing their frenzied pace.
“I love you, wench.”
The sound of a tent flap opening caught Jaime’s attention and he rolled to his side to shield Brienne
from view. With his back to the tent flap, Jaime craned his neck to see who the intruder was.

Framed in the moonlight, Tyrion snorted. “Thank the gods I kept Genna and Catelyn from coming
to retrieve you both. They felt it highly indecent that you would take so long to return, but I’m glad
to report that no such wanton behavior is going on in the middle of a field.”

Jaime felt a wave of relief wash over him. He would owe Tyrion for sparing them from such an
intrusion.

“Can a man not have a moment’s peace to discuss the details of his betrothal with his future wife?”

A wide smile flashed across Tyrion’s face. “Ah yes. It seems you were just getting to the tip of the
matter. You know brother, humping your betrothed like that will not bring your cock much peace.
I’m pleased for you both, but I can only hold them off for so long. Maybe collect yourselves and
rejoin us then?”

Oh gods. Make it stop. Why won’t he leave?

With mounting irritation, Jaime grunted his consent. Tyrion stepped back out through the tent flap,
but he took pause and ducked his head back in.

“Congratulations by the way. I’m happy to see my brother found his balls and my soon to be
goodsister didn’t kill him along the way.”

I take it back. Perhaps him coming in was worse.

Looking back to Brienne, Jaime felt his face flush. “I’m sorry. I got carried away. I’ve never
wanted a Septon so badly in my life.”

Brienne’s face was flush from a combination of lust and embarrassment. Trying to make light of
the interruption, Jaime spoke teasingly. “I should warn you that marrying me does bring with it
several burdens. That was one of them.”

Brienne grimaced and tucked in her tunic. “I fear that marrying me will bring an altogether
different sort of burden. I don’t imagine you’ll receive pleasant looks.”

Jaime knew what she was implying, and he hated that a lifetime of unworthy comments akin to
those he once spoke, led Brienne to feel that way. Choosing to intentionally misinterpret her
meaning, Jaime smiled warmly.

“Yes, jealousy brings out the worst in men. They may try to assault me as I did Kyle.”

Brienne snorted. “Hyle. His name is Hyle.”

“That’s what I said, wench. Same thing.”

Before standing, Jaime leaned down to steal another kiss. It was only a matter of time before Genna
or Catelyn came barreling in to reprimand him. Standing up, Jaime helped Brienne to her feet. His
body was screaming at the lack of release and Jaime willed his cock to make itself less known.

The thought of leaving the privacy of the tent was excruciating. Jaime had little desire to do
anything except kiss Brienne’s soft lips. He wondered why Westerosi standards deemed thick lips
undesirable. They were perfect. Like pillows.
“Can we go tell Kyle Kunt that you’re spoken for?”

Brienne groaned. “Hyle Hunt. No, we needn’t start anymore fights with him tonight.”

Slipping his hand into Brienne’s, Jaime shrugged and pulled her from the tent. He could see a flash
of hesitance in Brienne’s eyes as she looked to their hands.

Her voice was small as she glanced at the soldiers passing by. “You don’t need to. I don’t wish to
see you mocked.”

Again, Jaime opted to intentionally misunderstand her words. “They’ve been mocking me for
weeks about how pathetic I am. Apparently, my feelings for you have been less than subtle. They
think my wooing style needs work.”

Brienne raised a curious brow. “Your wooing style?”

“Courting you of course. I don’t know why everyone felt my approach so ineffective.” Jaime spoke
teasingly. It was more than clear to him by this point that his approach had been catastrophic at
best.

With an incredulous huff, Brienne looked to Jaime as though he was mad. “You mocked me for
weeks.”

“Now you sound like Catelyn. She has been tormenting me about taking a different approach.”

Brienne’s jaw hung open at the words. “Lady Catelyn has spoken to you of this?”

“It’s been horrible, truly. They’ve all had something to say. Even the young wolf scolded me the
other night.”

“All of them? What do you mean? How many of them know of this?”

Jaime suddenly felt rather self-conscious. As Brienne’s eyes went wide with shock, he shrugged
innocently as they made their way back towards the campfire. “Um… all of them? I think it took
my aunt little more than the introduction to figure it out.”

Brienne’s brows knitted together as she studied him. It was as though she was working it all out in
her head. With a sigh, she looked back to the group before them.

Addam was regaling the group with some tale that seemed as crass as Bronn himself. Bronn, Pod,
and Tyrion were enjoying the telling of it as were many of the commanders of the West and
Stormlands.

Catelyn and Genna looked unamused at the ribald tale. Both scrunched their faces in distaste and
shook their heads. Slipping back quietly to their previous seats, Jaime sat even closer than he had
earlier. His body was pressed possessively against Brienne’s as he looped his left arm around her
waist.

Jaime had never been able to claim Cersei. It was novel to be able to demonstrate his love so
openly. At his touch, Brienne stiffened slightly.

“Are you alright?” Jaime whispered into her right ear. He could feel the warmth of his breath
bouncing off Brienne’s neck. His lips tingled at the recent memory of his mouth grazing across her
jaw, lips, and ear.
Turning her head slightly to meet Jaime’s eyes, Brienne offered a small smile and hummed
contentedly. “I’m fine. I just… I don’t want you to regret this on the morrow.”

Jaime remembered his first words directed at Brienne. He remembered overhearing Brienne’s
conversation with Catelyn.

It’s a wonder they didn’t cut out my tongue.

With nothing but sincerity in this voice, Jaime looked into Brienne’s eyes and spoke for her ears
only. “I look forward to the daylight. It was my only regret in the tent. Far too dark to enjoy looking
upon you.”

His words were greeted with an eye roll, but when Jaime felt her lean slightly against him, it sent
his heart racing. He couldn’t get enough of her. Nuzzling into her ear, Jaime kept whispering
words aimed at eliciting a smile or laugh. His eyes briefly met Catelyn’s across the way.

At their eye contact, Catelyn nodded approvingly before looking back to Addam. Her smile faded
as her lips curled in distaste at the man’s story. Jaime could do little more than chuckle as his
childhood friend carried on.

The next morning, Jaime awoke to a throbbing in his cock. He had dreamed of Brienne again as he
so often did over the past moon turns. He dreamt of their wedding night and all the things he
wanted to do to her.

The sight of Bronn, Addam, Pod, and Tyrion, just feet away was more than enough to snuff out his
body’s desire. After putting on his boots, Jaime exited the tent and breathed in the morning air. It
was not quite sunrise and a light dew licked at his boots. Jaime walked towards the dwindling
campfire where he sat the night prior.

He immediately recognized the outline of Genna and Catelyn through the morning fog. They were
sitting shoulder to shoulder just as he had left them the night prior. At Jaime’s approach, their
heads turned, and he saw the grave expressions on their faces.

“What’s happened?” Jaime’s mind panicked slightly.

Genna held a missive in hand. “A rider came not an hour ago. I’m sorry, Jaime.”

Genna handed the letter to Jaime, and he began to read the missive as he took a seat across from
them.

Genna,

I’ve received word from the capital. Myrcella was killed by the Sand Snakes in retribution for
Prince Oberyn’s and Ellaria’s death. Prince Doran has condemned the act and arrested the
women, but Cersei has declared war against Dorne.

To secure the Reach, Cersei has agreed to wed Loras Tyrell at Lady Olenna’s proposal. The
wedding will be after Dorne’s defeat. She has named herself Hand of the King. No one has seen or
heard from Tommen since word of Myrcella’s death.

Our informants warn that he has been withdrawn for some time and refuses to leave his room. He
is upset at his mother’s continued refusal to allow him to wed Lady Margaery, and now he is
distraught over word of Myrcella’s death. I will write as I hear more.
Emmon

Jaime felt numb reading it all.

All Cersei ever cared about was her children, yet her very actions are seeing to their demise. She
should have treated with Dorne properly after Oberyn’s death. She should better care for
Tommen’s emotional well-being. Of course she’ll wed Loras for a fucking army. She hardly
needed to take such action anyway. The Reach hates Dorne.

Glancing back at the women across from him, Jaime could see the worry lining their faces. He felt
no jealousy over Cersei’s betrothal; his heart belonged to Brienne. His only concern was for
Tommen.

“Cersei is losing her mind. She’ll lose Tommen at this rate.”

Genna moved to sit beside Jaime. She pulled his head to her and ran a soothing hand through his
hair as she used to when he was a boy.

“I fear you have the right of it. We need to be careful after removing the Boltons. She is unstable at
best. We need to get Tommen out safely.”

Jaime nodded in understanding. Swallowing thickly, Jaime took a deep breath. He had never been
close to the children at Cersei’s behest, but he cared for Tommen and Myrcella. They were
innocent in it all. Nothing like him and Cersei. They didn’t deserve this.

Catelyn spoke from across the fire. “We’ll help you however we can in getting Tommen to safety.
He struck me a good boy.”

“He is. Thank you.” Jaime sucked a deep breath and threw the missive into the fire. Running a
hand over his face, Jaime stood from the log.

His eye was slightly swollen from the fight with Hyle, but it felt nothing in comparison to the
pulsating in his head from the missive’s news.

He needed Brienne. Seeing her made him feel better and he just wanted to hold her. He wanted to
hear Brienne tell him that it would be alright.

“Is Brienne awake?” Jaime looked around the area, trying to see to the clearing where they trained
yesterday.

Catelyn snorted and shook her head. “Who is Brienne? I only know a ‘wench’?”

Jaime nodded in approval. “Well played. Have you seen the Lady Wench of Tarth?”

Inclining her head towards the clearing, Catelyn spoke quietly. “Lady Brienne is training Pod. She
pulled the poor boy from his tent to spar before the army stirs.”

With a small laugh, Jaime moved towards the clearing. As he passed the tents and the clearing
came into view, Jaime smiled widely at the sight. Brienne’s blonde hair stood out in stark contrast
to the grey haze of morning. Her cheeks were pink from exertion as she ran circles around poor Pod
who looked half awake.

“Go easy on the boy. He appears to have fallen into the barrel of ale last night.”
In truth, Pod did look a bit green around the edges. It was likely that Bronn gave him more cups of
ale than he should have. Pod cast an appreciative smile at Jaime as he stepped back from Brienne.

“Go on, Pod. I’ll finish giving your knight a proper work out.”

Pod retreated to the camp looking all too eager to crawl back into his bedroll for another hour.
Brienne’s smile fell slightly. “I heard. I’m so sorry about…”

Her voice trailed off and she bit her lip.

Reaching for her cheek, Jaime smiled sadly. “Myrcella was a sweet girl. She didn’t deserve it. This
is Cersei’s fault. She’s acting irrationally and putting them in harm’s way; for what reason I can’t
begin to understand.”

As Jaime hoped she would, Brienne sheathed her sword and wrapped her arms around him. How
someone who was treated so poorly her entire life could be so caring for others was beyond him.
Jaime returned the hug and pulled Brienne close, breathing in her scent and enjoying the feel of her
warmth.

Cersei never hugged him in such a manner. She would claw or grasp at Jaime, but never embrace
him as Brienne did. Jaime closed his eyes and enjoyed the sensation before pulling back his head to
meet Brienne’s eyes.

Placing a tender kiss to Brienne’s lips, Jaime spoke quietly. “I would never place our children in
harm’s way as Cersei is doing… if you would have children with me.”

Jaime had never thought he would have children to call his own. For Cersei’s babes, he gave seed,
but not a name. He was never allowed to love them as a father should. As it was, he was barely an
uncle. Tyrion was allowed near the children more often than he was; a true feat considering
Cersei’s hatred of Tyrion.

Looking at Brienne, Jaime was surprised at how strong his desire was to have children of his own
with her. It had never weighed much on his mind prior to that moment.

Brienne’s eyes went wide as she took in the words. With a small nod, she smiled. “I would.”

Jaime beamed and moved to pick up Pod’s discarded sword. “How about a dance, my lady?”

With a small laugh, Brienne brought her sword to position. “I hope you are well rested. I do not
intend to go easy on you.”

“Oh, I’m quite well rested. A most lovely sleep. I dreamed of you.”
 “A good friend”
Chapter Summary

The combined armies arrive just outside the Twins. Jaime makes a detour and Catelyn
reflects on some things.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Standing at the crest of the hill with the armies at their back, Catelyn appraised the Twins. A gut-
wrenching grief ripped through her.

This is where my son and his wife died. This is where my unborn grandbabe died. The babe that I
never had the chance to learn of and celebrate with them.

Swallowing thickly, Catelyn grabbed Sansa’s hand and took a deep breath. She once stood looking
at the Twins with Robb from a similar vantage point. Now Catelyn stood beside the same House
that their very war was with.

The Lannister brothers stood to Catelyn’s left, looking resolute as ever. Jaime glanced back at the
men and called for Addam.

“Ready the men. Only the West will approach.” At Jaime’s words, Catelyn’s head snapped to him.

“What are you doing?” Catelyn’s voice was low, but her tone betrayed her bewilderment. They had
discussed staying on the Kingsroad and moving around the Twins.

With their combined forces, they had too many men for the Freys to attack. Most of the Frey army
was defeated at Riverrun, and the household guard was not strong enough to pursue nor stop
enemies moving north.

Jaime raised a challenging brow. His eyes darted to Brynden who stood beside Sansa. “Do you
think that I came all this way to betray you? Relax, Lady Stark. I need only borrow your sworn
sword for a moment.”

Catelyn’s eye went wide as Jaime tugged Brienne forward. They spoke in hushed tones and
Brienne nodded in understanding. When they finished speaking, Jaime nodded at Addam and
called for chains.

A slight panic went through Catelyn as she realized what Jaime was doing. “You will not use her
as bait!”

Jaime chuckled lightly and raised a brow at Catelyn. “If you recall, we killed most of the old
Walder’s army at Riverrun. The wench could kill every last guard in that castle if she wanted to.
Besides, I would not endanger my own betrothed. She’ll be well armed.”

Jaime shimmied Brienne’s sword belt up her waist and tightened it further so that her cloak
completely concealed the weapon. “Besides, she is hardly the only prisoner.”
Extending his own arms to Addam, chains were placed around Jaime’s wrists. It was then that
Catelyn realized neither Jaime’s chains nor Brienne’s were properly fastened.

Catelyn huffed and crossed her arms. “We need to keep moving north. There’s no time for this.”

Glancing back over his shoulder, Jaime’s face took on a more menacing expression. “Yes, there is.
It won’t take long for Ser Addam to hand over the prisoners wanted by the crown.”

With a loud sigh, Catelyn looked to Brynden who only shook his head and grumbled at the sight.
Just under 1,000 of Addam’s men took their ‘prisoners’ towards the Twins while the rest of the
army remained concealed downhill.

Catelyn paced impatiently for what seemed an eternity. She was wearing a path in the ground
where she walked, and her uncle was hardly impressed.

“Gods damnit Cat, would you stop that. You’re making me ill.” Brynden sat on a rock just under a
large tree. He ran a hand through his hair and looked back towards the Twins in the distance.

Catleyn stopped pacing and took a deep breath before speaking. “We don’t know how much
information Walder has on our movements. Surely, someone will have noticed three armies
amassing at the crossroads over the past several days! He could have been expecting this.”

Tyrion snorted at Brynden’s side. “My brother may be a lot of things, but he is no fool. Lord Frey
still thinks the Lannisters an ally and a Jaime ordered a standard size patrol to approach the castle.
He knows military tactics better than anyone. If you think he’ll be made a fool of twice in the
Riverlands, you’ve another thing coming. He will not be ambushed again.”

Catelyn knew that Tyrion referenced the Battle of Whispering Wood. She knew the importance of
succeeding in the ploy, because the Lannisters would not fall for it twice. Tywin and Jaime were
formidable foes. They were smart and had a mind for war. It was arrogance that was their folly.

“I promised Lord Selwyn that I would not see Brienne put in harm’s way!” Catelyn spoke angrily
at Tyrion, but in truth, she was upset with herself.

Why did I let Jaime take her on this fool’s errand?

Tyrion chuckled at the words. “Do you think for one moment that Jaime is going to let anything
happen to Brienne? The Stranger himself couldn’t wrestle Brienne from him now.”

The sound of approaching horses silenced them all. A nervous anticipation hung in the air as they
awaited the incoming riders.

Four horses reached the crest of the hill and Catelyn stared up at the cloaked figures of Jaime,
Brienne, Addam, and Edmure.

Gods! Edmure is alive.

A hooded and bound man was on the back of Jaime’s horse. Shoving the man forcefully to the
ground, Jaime hopped down and dragged the man to Catelyn’s feet.

Jaime extended a hand back to Edmure who looked as though he had been through the Seven Hells
and back again. “Look what we found!”

Within a heartbeat, Brynden was at Catelyn’s side. Jaime looked at them before glancing to Sansa.
“A belated wedding present for my goodsister and brother. A debt owed.” Shoving the man to his
knees, Jaime pulled off the hood.

Catelyn stared down at Walder Frey. His mouth was gagged and his eyes wide in shock. A silent
sob caught in Catelyn’s throat.

Catelyn grabbed Jaime’s forearm and squeezed it tightly for support as she rocked on her heels.
Catelyn could feel the tears at the back of her eyes.

He killed my baby boy, his wife, and unborn child. He violated guest right at a wedding.

When Catelyn collected herself, she released Jaime’s arm and nodded her thanks. Jaime took
Genna away from the scene immediately. Distantly, Catelyn heard him speak to his aunt.

“I’m sorry, but Uncle Emmon must lose his father today. One of the boys can take the Twins as
next in line.”

Looking down at Walder, hate pooled in Catelyn’s core. She wanted him to pass slowly into the
Stranger’s arms. Glancing at Sansa, Catelyn breathed deeply and turned to her uncle.

“I don’t want Sansa to see this. Lets take him to the Tully camp.”

Nodding in understanding, Brynden hauled Walder to his feet. Edmure followed as the men moved
towards the Tully army. Reaching for Sansa’s cheek, Catelyn spoke in hushed tones.

“I need you to stay with Lady Brienne. We’ll deal with Lord Frey and then I’ll be right back.”

Sansa nodded mutely as she stared into her mother’s eyes. She was still a child and needn’t see
what would happen to the man who destroyed Catelyn’s world. With a deep breath, Catelyn turned
towards the Tully camp; her chin held high and fire in her eyes.

On account of the hour, the combined forces opted to make camp at the Twins. The Lannister men
had cleared out the bodies littering the Keep. At the sight of Genna Frey, the household staff paid
their respect to their assumed Lady of the Twins.

Genna ordered rooms prepared for the commanders and women. Jaime was all too pleased about
having a bed again. He pissed and moaned about the unacceptable bedroll afforded to him at the
encampment. Breaking away from their small group, Catelyn wandered the corridors and found her
way into the great hall.

Memories of treating with Walder at Robb’s side overwhelmed her. It was as though she could
reach out and touch him. She looked to the ground where she imagined her poor boy taking his last
breath. She hardly realized she was crying until tears dropped to the stone floor.

A hand shook Catelyn from her thoughts. Genna Frey.

“I’m sorry of it. My brother did a most foul thing. He and I disagreed on a lot over the years. What
happened here was one of them.”

Sorry of it? My boy is dead.

Catelyn felt nothing but contempt. She knew it wasn’t the woman’s fault, but being in the room
where her son died caused something to snap inside Catelyn. Her voice was laced with hatred.

“Your House took my boy from me.”

Genna raised a brow; the sentiment returned. “And your House took two of mine. Jaime wasn’t all
that was stolen from me in the Whispering Wood. My oldest, Cleos, was killed in that shit ambush
you called a battle. My third son, Tion, was captured and murdered by those beasts your son
couldn’t keep control of. Tion was four and ten. An unarmed squire. They put a blade through his
throat in those cells at Riverrun. His cousin, Willem Lannister, suffered the same fate.”

Catelyn hung her head at the words. She remembered those boys from Jaime’s capture. It had
surprised her when she saw them dragged from the woods and thrown beside Jaime.

We’ve all lost family in this misery.

With a heavy sigh, Catelyn looked to Genna. “I’m sorry. I had left my son’s camp with Jaime and
Brienne before all that. War is a terrible thing. We think of the enemy as chess pieces; not people
with kin of their own. When they dragged Jaime out from those woods, I hardly considered who or
how many had fallen; only that my son won.”

Genna sighed. “My brother was incensed that such an important contingent of his army was taken
down. Enraged that his son was captured. The pride of the West.” Genna huffed a small laugh
before her voice grew grave. “It was a horror thar rippled through the West when we heard Jaime
had been captured.”

Catelyn remembered the moment when Jaime was dragged before Robb. Even in defeat, Jaime had
been arrogant as ever. He challenged Robb to single combat.

Catelyn huffed a small laugh. “Jaime was frighteningly good. Robb was shaking like a leaf after
that battle. Jaime nearly got to him. He cut through some of our best men and Robb’s personal
guard singlehandedly. Ned always hated that about Jaime; how gifted he was. He thought it a
waste that someone so talented with the blade could use it for such nefarious intent.”

Raising a hand before Genna could protest, Catelyn raised a brow. “I know now. It’s quite
remarkable what he did. Don’t tell him that I admitted that to you. I’ll never hear the end of it.”

Genna’s brows furrowed. “What he did? Saving you?”

Oh. That’s right. She doesn’t know about Aerys.

A smile tugged at Catelyn’s lips. “You should ask Jaime why he killed Aerys. If you’re proud of
him now, I can’t imagine how you’ll feel of him after that tale.”

With a deep sigh, Genna shook her head and sat down on one of the long benches at a table to their
left. She looked around the hall and sighed.

“I always hated it here. We visited infrequently. Despite taking the Frey name, it was my husband
who became a Lannister. I suppose one of my surviving sons will inherit this shit holding. Emmon
won’t want to be here. I can tell you this, my boys are far more Lannister than Frey. The good kind
of Lannister that is. More Jaime than Cersei. More Tyrion than Tywin. I imagine you won’t have
issues with my Freys in the future.”

Catelyn raised a brow and appraised Genna before sitting opposite her. “You and Lord Emmon
won’t take the Twins before one of your sons inherits it?”

Genna sighed. “I doubt it. We have spent most of our years at the Rock. I’m a Lannister. I belong
in the sun; not in whatever this shit is. It rains too damn much.”

Catelyn chuckled as the older woman’s nose scrunched in distaste. “When Joanna died, we made
the Rock our home. I tried to mother the children as best I could. Cersei has always been a
problem, but she was the independent one. She knew what she wanted, when she wanted it, and
how precisely it was to be delivered to her. Tyrion of course was a babe. He needed a wet nurse
and nappy changes.”

Huffing a small laugh, Genna looked up at the rafters and sighed. “It was Jaime who needed me.
He was lost when his mother died; like a candle snuffed out and the darkness obscured the path
forward. He became more dependent on Cersei then. He was always so sensitive and needy. Don’t
let his silly little Kingslayer persona fool you. He cares very much.”

Catelyn huffed a laugh. “Yes, he is quite easy to see through. Atrocious at courting though. He
confuses insults with compliments, and indecency with politeness.”

Genna hummed in consideration. “Yes, well unfortunately his only prior relationship didn’t require
all that.” Offering Catelyn a knowing look, Genna snorted before offering a conciliatory nod.
“Then again, I’ve spent the past few days listening to him tease Brienne, and swat her on the ass
with the flat of his blade. Great dolt.”

Catelyn laughed for the first time since she walked into the wretched castle. “Trust me, this teasing
is endearing. You should have heard the things he said to her before we arrived at the Crossroads.
Awful.”

Genna groaned and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Gods I love him, but he is exhausting.” With a
small laugh, Genna reached across the table and squeezed Catelyn’s arm.

“I’ll tell you this much, he is loyal. More loyal than anyone you’ll come across. He’ll protect you
and everyone important to you once he decides you’re a friend. He is not a schemer. He would
rather face his enemy with a sword. He despises cowardly acts like what happened here to your
kin.”

Taking in the words, Catelyn thought back on everything she knew of Jaime since their journey
began. It was easy to see. He wore a mask of callousness and indifference, but he cared deeply
beneath the surface.

He was a good man despite having erred greatly along the way. He had done more for her as an
enemy than most would do as an ally. She hoped the day would come where she didn’t look at
Jaime and see Bran. Loathe as she was to admit it, Jaime was becoming too important to her.

A friend. A friend I didn’t ask for nor want, but now I’m stuck with. Gods help me.

Catelyn and Genna sat together for a while longer. They spoke of many topics and Catelyn learned
much from Genna. She asked about how to deal with the loss of a child. She asked her opinions on
how to approach the situation with Cersei. She asked her thoughts on other potential allies
throughout the kingdoms.

In the brief time she knew Genna, Catelyn could see much of Tyrion. She was an astute woman
who understood politics and was loyal to those she loved. When Catelyn told her as much, Genna
only shook her head and offered a sad smile.

“I always thought Tyrion was the most like Tywin. My brother wasn’t always so cold. In his youth,
he was warmer, but he learned some hard lessons. He felt betrayed by Aerys; the only man he truly
thought a friend. Then he lost his love, Joanna. It broke him. The man you knew is not the man
that I grew up with. The man that protected me as a young girl.”

When the time came to take rest, Catelyn couldn’t. She tried to find sleep in her assigned room, but
she only found tears. All Catelyn could think of was Robb. Tossing and turning, a thousand
questions gnawed at her.

What is there for us when we meet the Stranger? Does Robb wander these halls with Talisa as
Jenny dances with her ghosts?

Leaving her room, Catelyn passed the Lannister brothers, Sansa, and Brienne in the great hall.
They were carrying on, having a good time together. Catelyn wiped at her eyes, hoping they
wouldn’t see her walk past. She desperately needed to leave the castle.

Catelyn stepped outside the castle gates and found that she could breathe again. It was as though
the castle walls had been closing in and tormenting her; reminding Catelyn of what she lost for
what she gained.

Grabbing a bedroll from the encampment, Catelyn made her way to the river’s edge just east of the
gates. The night was clear, and she could see all the stars. For a moment, Catelyn could pretend she
was a little girl again, laying in the fields outside Riverrun.

Life was simple. I didn’t know heartache as I do now. I could sleep in a castle without weeping
endlessly.

Some time passed as Catelyn breathed deeply and tried to push away the pain. The sound of
approaching voices caught her attention.

Catelyn sat upright quickly and looked behind her. Jaime and Brienne were approaching with
bedrolls tucked under their arms. They stopped beside her and setup their bedrolls without saying
anything of it.

What they are they doing?

Jaime’s voice broke the silence. “See wench, I told you. Catelyn is always fleeing castles at night.
She takes the best spots too. I can’t see the constellations that I prefer.”

Catelyn’s brows furrowed. “I thought you were looking forward to your comfy bed and silks
sheets?”

Jaime huffed and began to shimmy himself between the two women. “The bed is shit. It’s all
jammed u with goose feathers and the quills were jutting into my side. I could bleed to death.”

Jaime lay to Catelyn’s left after having practically placed his bedroll on top of Brienne. “Jaime!
That’s not comfortable! It’s too close.”

“I don’t want to be cold, wench! Don’t worry. Lady Catelyn is here to make sure I don’t do
anything indecent.”

It hit Catelyn what they were doing. The realization only made her sob harder than inside the
castle.

They know that I’m upset. They don’t mean to see me alone out here wallowing in misery.

Jaime scoffed at Catelyn’s side. “Stop that now. I know you’re overcome by my presence, but try
to keep it together. I’m with my betrothed. I’ve told you… I’m spoken for now. You’ll just need to
find someone else to pine after.”

Catelyn laughed through the tears and hit Jaime’s right arm. A momentary silence fell over them
 before Jaime pointed excitedly at the stars. “Look, wench! There’s Kyle Kunt!”

Brienne chuckled and shook her head. “Gods, no. Stop it.”

Turning his head to Catelyn, Jaime pointed frantically. “Look up there. We found Kyle Kunt in the
stars.”

“Gods, Jaime. That isn’t his name.”

“You know, I think you and Brienne are hard of hearing. He very clearly introduced himself as Ser
Kunt. Kyle Kunt. Gods, Catelyn. Honestly. Now, pay attention.” Pointing again to the cluster of
stars, Jaime continued.

“Ser Kunt is that cluster of pathetic looking stars next to the larger cluster with the beautiful blue
tint to the easternmost star. That’s little Kyle next to Brienne. He just got knocked to his ass by my
lady wench. I’m the pretty set of stars just behind her there.”

Catelyn chuckled lightly and groaned. “I will never understand that mind of yours.”

“Well, it’s difficult to understand perfection when you lack it. Oh! And that over there. The wench
found that one.” Jaime started chuckling as he spoke. “What…” A fit of laughter took hold of Jaime
as he looked to Brienne and laced his fingers with hers. “What did you call it?”

“Oh no. I can’t. Don’t tell Lady Catelyn that.”

Catelyn propped herself up on her elbows and looked to Brienne. The young woman’s face was red
as she covered her eyes with her free hand.

“Brienne, as my sworn sword, I demand you tell me of this new constellation.” At Catelyn’s
teasing words, Jaime smiled widely and nudged Brienne with their joined hands.

Keeping her face covered, Brienne spoke in hushed tones. “It… it looks like a person on a chamber
pot. It’s Septa Rolle having a shitty night.”

Catelyn guffawed loudly. “Brienne! That is awful. This man has ruined you. Gods, Jaime! What
have you done to my sweet, innocent, Brienne?”

They stayed awake for some time. Jaime came up with more absurd names for the star clusters
hanging in the sky above. When he wasn’t doing that, he was singing horribly; earning groans and
complaint from both women. He was a distraction. A distraction that Catelyn needed more than
anything.

Catelyn curled up on her side as her eyes grew heavy. She smiled at the sight of Brienne’s head on
Jaime’s chest; his arms protectively wrapped around her. Brienne was asleep, and Jaime’s heavy
eyes looked soon to follow.

“Thank you, Jaime. You’re a good man. A good friend.”

Chapter End Notes

I had Cleos die at Whispering Wood since he didn't make it into the show. Sorry
Cleos. I hope it was a better death than the book.
 “A willing bride is hardly necessary”
Chapter Summary

Catelyn prepares to leave the Twins. the North plots in preparation for war (Roose
POV).

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Catelyn felt a chill at her back, rousing her from sleep. As her eyes slowly opened, she could see
her breath as she exhaled and shivered. The first rays of light had not yet warmed the ground
beneath her, and dew moistened the grass licking at the corners of her bedroll.

In sleep, Jaime and Brienne had shifted. Jaime’s back was to Catelyn as his arms wrapped tightly
around Brienne. The morning’s moisture had curled Brienne’s hair and it fell messily in her face as
her back pressed firmly against Jaime.

They looked too peaceful to wake, but Catelyn knew they should use the castle’s amenities before
moving out. With an army of their size, they would move much slower than a small group on
horseback. Catelyn estimated it would take them near three weeks to reach Winterfell.

Along the way, they would treat with House Manderly and House Cerwyn. House Manderly had
sizable forces and House Cerwyn was just outside Winterfell. Her uncle set out to White Harbor
the day prior after dealing with Walder Frey.

It was the least of their problems. Jaime and Brynden had differing opinions on the plan of attack.
Having heard both of their thoughts on the matter, Catelyn felt conflicted. Jaime’s approach was
impressive, but her uncle had more experience in war. He also knew Winterfell better than Jaime.

While the approach had yet to be finalized, one thing Catelyn was counting on was getting an
earful from both men on the way north.

Stretching slightly, Catelyn exhaled and leaned down to shake Jaime and Brienne from sleep.
“Jaime. Brienne. Wake up.”

Jaime grunted and batted Catelyn away. Tugging Brienne closer, Jaime mumbled something
unintelligible.

“By the Gods, Jaime Lannister. For a knight you are the heaviest sleeper. Get up!” At the words,
Brienne’s eyes flew open. She tried to sit up, but Jaime held firm.

With sleep heavy in her voice, Brienne elbowed Jaime lightly. She looked at Catelyn and blinked
back sleep as she appraised the area. “Is something wrong, my lady?”

Catelyn offered a warm smile as Brienne’s eyes met hers. “We need to move out soon. Lets get
inside and ready ourselves.”

Nodding in understanding, Brienne tried again to sit up, but Jaime held firm. “I’ll run you through
with my sword if you don’t let go. You are not asleep.”
“You don’t know that.” Jaime’s voice was accusatory and rather awake for someone pretending at
sleep.

Honestly. This man. Good luck to Brienne.

He released Brienne and immediately set to complaining about the lack of body heat. Brienne
stretched beside Catelyn and looked down at Jaime expectantly. “Well, are you going to get up?”

“I could use a hand.” Jaime couldn’t control himself. He chuckled as both women picked up their
bedrolls and walked away.

“You’re just going to leave me here?” The sound of Jaime’s rapid movements at Catelyn’s back
brought a smile to her lips. Shaking her head, she looked to Brienne and teased.

“Don’t let any man tell you that a woman’s battle is the birthing bed. Dealing with men is a far
more exhausting and a lifelong endeavor. Some more tiresome than others. It seems you enjoy a
challenge.”

Catelyn raised a brow as Brienne glanced at her. Taking in the words, Brienne snorted and
hummed slightly.

“I am familiar with one of the phrases at least. Lord Tarly told me, ‘Gods made men to fight, and
women to bear children. A woman’s war is in the birthing bed.’ I hated him after that, but he was
the one who stopped the men’s wager. I suppose for that alone, I should keep my sword sheathed
around him.

Catelyn huffed in annoyance at the words. Muttering more to herself than Brienne, she cursed that
the young woman was so disrespected at Renly’s camp.

Ser Brent had the right of it. She was the best of them and worth more than the rest of Renly’s
knights.

Catching up to them, Jaime slowed at Brienne’s side; his eyes shining with mirth. “You both left
me. I could have been swept away by the river down there.”

A retort was on Catelyn’s tongue, but the sound of Addam’s voice cut through the air around them.
“Jaime! There you are!”

The redheaded knight jogged over to them with Tyrion at his heels. Catelyn’s brows furrowed as
she noted the worry on their faces. Glancing to Jaime, she saw the question at his tongue before he
voiced it.

“What’s going on?”

Addam’s eyes darted to Brienne and back again. “We seem to be missing a knight from the
Stormlands contingent. Our lookouts just returned and believe they saw Ser Hyle headed away
from camp.”

Jaime snorted and shrugged. “Good riddance.”

Tyrion sighed at Addam’s side and ran a hand over his face. Worry lined the younger Lannister’s
eyes as he provided the missing context. “It was the lookouts stationed to the north that spotted
him. He was riding towards Winterfell.”
Roose’s fingers tapped the wooden desk in the study at Winterfell. He had just finished reading the
latest missive from Qyburn. A smug smile tugged at Roose’s lips as he eyed the letter. His
maneuvers had produced better results than planned. The only mark missed was the disposal of
Catelyn Stark and her sworn sword.

When Roose left Harrenhal, his instruction to Qyburn was clear. ‘Do whatever you can to curry
favor with the crown. Go so far as to pretend at betraying me if necessary. When this is done,
you’ll be one of Westeros’ most powerful men. You’ll have access to do as you please with your
experiments, and I will see you properly rewarded when I destroy House Lannister from within.’

Roose knew that keeping Tywin alive was problematic. A man masterminding the Red Wedding
was not a man that Roose could ally with long-term. The Lannisters were too powerful a House.
The balance of power in the Seven Kingdoms was too far weighted towards their cause and
ambitions.

Further, to truly earn the North, Roose could not bend to the lions. He would appear an ally to the
crown, but weaken them from within. He knew of another House seeking the same outcome, but
with more significant resources to see it to completion. House Tyrell.

When he first heard of the bastard king’s betrothal to Margaery Tyrell, Roose found the opening he
needed to make his move. Roose had been watching the Tyrell’s desperate play for power from
afar.

First, the Queen of Thorns wed her daughter to Renly. It was an obvious effort to see her House on
the throne, but it was laughable. Roose knew the Lannisters were still too strong to lose the crown
to Renly Baratheon, despite claims of Joffrey’s illegitimacy.

Then Lady Tyrell outsmarted Tywin. After Renly’s death, she allied with the lions to gain power
from within. The move was akin Roose’s approach, and he knew the Tyrell’s would need more
allies to see it done.

Roose and Olenna communicated of a prospective alliance after that point. They played Tywin
from both sides. To the crown, the Boltons and Freys were in bed with the Lannisters. In actuality,
the Boltons were in bed with the Tyrells and the Vale.

Littlefinger’s role was unexpected initially, but Roose was hardly surprised when he heard from
Olenna of Baelish’s part to play.

It was clear that the man had an attachment to Catelyn Stark and little affection for the crown. He
was a schemer and Roose didn’t trust him, but he was a powerful player in the game and shared a
similar objective.

Baelish held a strange obsession with the older Stark girl, and he seemed eager to do anything to
secret the girl out from King’s Landing. Qyburn sent word of Littlefinger’s attempt to smuggle
Sansa from the city when Joffrey was killed, but the Kingslayer’s action interfered with those
plans.

The Kingslayer. This man continues to perplex and vex me.

Roose had not counted on the Kingslayer falling in love with the beast from Tarth. He had not
counted on the Kingslayer saving Lady Catelyn and allying with her to raise an army from the
Stormlands and West.

Then word came from Littlefinger of the West rallying near the Crossroads. Baelish had a new
proposition for Roose. One Stark girl for another.

Baelish had the little wolf at the Vale. The Hound had turned up not long after the Purple Wedding
seeking monetary exchange for Arya. Instead, Littlefinger had the Hound thrown in the sky cell
and Arya presented as his squire from King’s Landing.

Ever the opportunist, Littlefinger suggested a match; Roose’s newly legitimized son and heir,
Ramsay Bolton, and Arya Stark. Their marriage would help sway the remaining Northern vassals
to Roose.

‘There must always be a Stark at Winterfell.’

After taking Winterfell from Theon Greyjoy, Ramsay questioned the man. They put the Greyjoy
through their more intense methods for extracting information, but Theon held firm. Bran and
Rickon were dead.

Ramsay kept Theon as a pet of sorts. It was impressive to Roose to see how browbeaten Ned
Stark’s former ward was.

In return for Arya, Baelish wanted Sansa. Littlefinger knew that the Lannister brothers had Sansa
and were marching north. What he did not know, was that Catelyn was still alive.

To ensure Baelish did not bring the Vale to Catelyn’s cause, Bolton withheld the information. He
thanked the Seven that Qyburn was able to convince Cersei not to divulge word of Catelyn’s
survival. The disgraced maester whispered in her ear that it would renew hope among Northern
and Riverland rebels.

The plan had been simple. Baelish and his army had sailed for Ramsgate to beat the Kingslayer’s
combined forces to Winterfell. While White Harbor would have been a preferable port, neither
Baelish nor Bolton trusted the Manderlys.

Littlefinger had 15,000 soldiers from the Vale set to arrive at Winterfell within two days’ time.
From what little remained of the North’s forces, Roose had 6,000 men to contribute.

It was an uneven contribution, but both men recognized the importance of winning the battle. They
would weaken the West by killing the Kingslayer; the West’s heir and strongest military mind.
The West’s military strength had already decreased following their war with House Stark, but this
would nearly wipe them out.

Cersei would think the battle won on behalf of the crown, but it would only serve to weaken
Tommen’s rule. The raging lioness and Tommen would find themselves without kin to request aid
of. Despite the Lannister twins’ fallout, Roose worried that the Kingslayer would still aid his sister.

He can’t truly love that ugly creature. He might fancy himself in love, but surely, he does this more
to aggravate his sister-lover.

The crown also lacked a true confidant in the capital. Cersei had made enemies at every turn, and
the Spider had fled Westeros. Qyburn’s detailing of Cersei’s slip into madness was a welcome
relief.

She was so fixated on her quest for revenge with Dorne, that Cersei would not see the incoming
threat from the North, the Vale, and the Reach.

Another welcome surprise had been Oberyn. The Queen of Thorns whispered of his desire to kill
the Mountain and Tywin as retribution for his sister’s death, and the death of her children. Seizing
the opportunity, Olenna encouraged Oberyn to approach Cersei. Rumors swirled at the Keep of
growing tensions between Tywin and his daughter.

Eager to reunite with Myrcella, Cersei offered access to Tywin after the head of House Lannister
made moves that further enraged Cersei. Oberyn killed Tywin and blame fell on the Kingslayer. It
was too perfect.

Of course, Westeros was quick to believe it. A man who would kill his own king could certainly
kill his father; the man who saw to his removal from the Kingsguard and forced a match with such
an ugly beast. Everyone knew the man’s desire for his own twin.

What Roose had not anticipated was Oberyn being unable to deliver on Myrcella’s return. The
young girl was truly in love with Prince Trystane. She wished to remain in Dorne and the Viper
relayed as much to Cersei. The thought of his nephew happy and in love pleased Oberyn.

In retaliation, Cersei sent the Mountain after Oberyn. She then foolishly gave Ser Gregor the Rock
as reward. Of course, the West cared little for the proclamation. Roose was hardly surprised to hear
the bannermen rally to the Kingslayer’s cause.

Cersei’s childishness only reflected the clear divide between squabbling twins, but the Kingslayer
was the West’s pride. It was laughable to Roose how easily everything was falling into place.

Now Cersei had her sights set on Dorne. She needed the Reach and Olenna knew it. It was the
Reach’s second chance to destroy from within. For their army, Olenna demanded that Tommen
marry Margaery or Cersei marry Loras.

Desperate for revenge, Cersei agreed to wed Loras after the war with Dorne. It was little to ask of
the Reach. They disliked Dorne, and their bannermen were pleased to move against Prince Doran
with the crown’s backing.

A knock at the door broke Roose from his thoughts. At Roose’s command to enter, the door swung
open to reveal Locke. “M’lord. Ya guest is here.”

Tilting his chin to see over Locke’s shoulder, Roose watched as Hyle Hunt stepped into the room.
The deserter from the Kingslayer’s forces had arrived at Winterfell not an hour earlier.

“Ser Hyle. I do believe you’ve strayed a bit far from camp. You realize the danger in stepping foot
into Winterfell, do you not?”

The knight from the Reach entered the room and bowed in greeting. “Lord Bolton. I have
information that I believe can aid your cause. I ask for very little in return.”

“And what is it you ask for? I’m willing to offer you your life. Is that not sufficient?” Roose raised
a brow at the man and was pleasantly surprised to see he didn’t recoil.

“A rich price. I only ask for titles and lands. I want Tarth as was promised to me.” The knight
spoke as though the matter simple enough.

With an amused chuckle, Roose stood from his chair and walked around the table. “Do I look to be
in possession of an island in the middle of the Narrow Sea?”

Hyle shrugged as though the question irrelevant. His eyes bored into Roose’s. “No, but you look to
be in possession of an army and holding equipped to withstand a siege from the very army I bring
you information on. The army that contains that heir to the island I want.”
Roose didn’t give two shits about some island in the Stormlands, but an ally in the Stormlands he
could do something with. The idea formed almost immediately.

“Give me valuable information and I’ll see you wed to the Tarth girl within a moon turn.” Roose
studied the man as he spoke. He wasn’t certain what to make of the knight from the Reach, but he
seemed a man with little enough power to pose an issue if Bolton didn’t honor his commitments.

“They have 15,000 men from the West and 5,000 men from the Stormlands.” Hyle raised a brow
and gauged Roose’s reaction. With an unimpressed look, Bolton snorted.

“Yes, and Catelyn Stark at the Kingslayer’s side. Tell me something that I’m not aware of. You do
realize an army of that size moving north is hardly secretive.”

Hyle’s eyes betrayed surprise at Roose’s knowledge of Lady Stark’s survival, but then the man
smirked and spoke again.

“They also have 2,000 Tully rebels led by the Blackfish. The Kingslayer’s men killed the Freys on
the way North. I know their path north and I know how you can get to the Kingslayer.”

Now that is interesting. I had not heard of the House Frey’s fall nor the Blackfish’s survival. It
seems they caught Littlefinger napping. I’ll need these battle plans to make this war quick.

“Give me their path to Winterfell and how to get to the Kingslayer. I’ll give you the Tarth girl.”

Hyle smiled widely and inclined his head. “The Blackfish rode ahead to White Harbor to treat with
the Manderlys. They will also seek aid of House Cerwyn before attacking. Lady Catelyn knows
both Houses to be loyal to House Stark.”

Bolton knew it to be true. They had struggled to collect taxes from the vassal since arriving at
Winterfell. Most Houses offered their share begrudgingly, afraid of retaliation due to their
weakened defenses.

“There is a debate at camp for how to approach. The Blackfish wants one way and the Kingslayer
wants another. Whispers among the Tully men say the Blackfish will win the debate. They told me
his siege plans.”

Continuing, Hyle’s smile grew wider. “I’ll tell you the battle plans, but first I’ll tell you how to get
to the Kingslayer. You will get to him by getting me the cow. He is in love with her. She trains
with him every morning and night at a distance just north of camp. The Kingslayer’s pride won’t
see him train closer to the encampment. He is pathetic with the left.”

Roose’s eyes darted to Locke who stood at the door in the back of the room. A wide smile spread
across the man’s face at mention of the Kingslayer’s maiming.

With a slight hum, Roose rubbed at his chin. “I’ll get you the Tarth girl in exchange for your
loyalty. Your marriage will bring us the Stormlands. Her father holds much sway.”

Or I’ll give her to Locke and hold power for Lord Tarth that way.

Hyle smiled widely at the words and nodded. “Perfect. She is a bit hesitant. May take some
convincing.”

With a knowing smirk, Roose moved back to his seat and sat down, pulling out a blank parchment
and picking up his quill. “Welcome to the new North, Ser Hyle. A willing bride is hardly
necessary.”
Chapter End Notes

I was eagerly awaiting this chapter to come up since it explains a lot. I've wanted to
keep most of the story in Cat, Jaime, or Brienne POV. I usually divulge the enemy's
plans in my fics, so I wanted to try keeping things a bit less clear.
 "Jaime"
Chapter Summary

The combined forces are almost at Winterfell. Jaime and the Blackfish continue to
fight over battle plans and Brienne decides to get some training in while they debate.

“What part of ‘no’ confuses you most, Kingslayer? We march north as one and meet them head on.
We outnumber the enemy three to one. You remove our advantage by splitting us in two and
playing these childish games. No wonder my great-nephew captured you so easily.”

Jaime’s eyes flashed with barely concealed rage as he stared at the Blackfish. It had become a
nightly routine in the war council tent; each night ending the same way. They were a day out from
Cerwyn and still no closer to an agreement on battle plans.

Jaime had wanted to divide the forces days ago and move off the kingsroad. He thought it would
be safest and his idea was to attack Winterfell from two directions. The idea was to confuse the
Boltons by having the army approach from east and west.

“Our advantage left when Hyle Hunt rode north and gave the Boltons every detail of our combined
forces, thanks to your men! It has taken us over a fortnight to get here as it is! By now, bloody
Dorne likely knows where we are and what we’re doing!”

Brienne watched as Catelyn placed a calming hand on Jaime’s maimed arm. Her words were a
whisper at his side. “The men are watching, Jaime.” Glancing around the table, Brienne noted the
uneasy expressions of the commanders from Tarth and the West.

This is my fault. They’re more heated than usual because Ser Hyle betrayed us. All because I
picked love over Hyle’s perceived duty. What if I had just spoken to him that night?

Taking a steadying breath, Jaime stabbed his finger onto the makeshift map covering the table.
“Need I remind you, that of our army of 22,000, my men make up two-thirds. Why don’t you, your
talkative men, and the Stormlanders charge straight at the gates from the kingsroad if it makes you
happy. My men will go around and attack from two angles.”

Brynden straightened from across the table. “When I was busy fighting in wars, you were still
soiling yourself in the crib. How many wars have you won? By my tally, you’ve seen more time
chained to a post in captivity than on the battlefield. Your victories in tourneys don’t matter here.”

Genna’s eyes narrowed at the Blackfish. It was one of the first things that Brienne had learned
about Genna. Don’t piss her off.

Genna was as much a fixture at the West’s war councils as Ser Addam was. The older woman had
a mind like Tyrion, and an understanding of war. Jaime trusted her opinion as much as he trusted
his senior most officers.

Brienne worried at her lip and prayed to the Seven that Genna didn’t stab Brynden with the first
sharp object she could find. Before Genna could spit venom at the Blackfish, Catelyn interjected.

“Uncle, enough! Insulting the man who seeks to return Winterfell to my House and, gods willing,
see Bran and Rickon returned to safety, is not the solution. The pair of you are the best knights and
military minds we have. I need you both to work together if we’re to solve this. We need to agree
on a plan tonight.”

With a longsuffering sigh, Brynden threw up his hands in frustration. “Fine. You and me,
Kingslayer. Lets figure this out.”

“His name is Jaime!” The words left Brienne’s mouth before she realized it. As shocked eyes fell
on her, Brienne felt her cheeks pink. An approving smirk flashed across Genna’s face from
Brienne’s right side. She muttered under her breath.

“Good girl.”

At her left side, Brienne could feel Jaime’s eyes on her. She didn’t need to look to know he was
smirking. It was in his tone.

“Well now you’ve pissed off the fiercest among us Ser Brynden. Careful or I’ll send the future
Lady of the Rock after you.”

An impressed smirk from Brynden greeted Brienne when she glanced to him. “My apologies, Ser
Jaime. There is no need to make such grave threats against my person. Alright. You shits heard my
niece. All of you out, unless you have a charming moniker such as me and Ser Jaime.”

Turning to leave, Brienne felt Jaime’s hand come to her wrist. He leaned into her ear and spoke
with warmth in his tone. “Meet me at the clearing later. I quite enjoy getting knocked to the dirt by
you.”

At Jaime’s proximity and words, Brienne felt the hair on the back of her neck stand. They had
taken to training at a distance from the camp since arriving at the crossroads over a moon ago.

Jaime’s skill with the sword had improved drastically on account of daily training with Brienne,
Pod, and, more recently, Addam. He was a natural and picked up sword fighting with his left faster
than most pickup sword fighting with their dominant hand.

Training far from the camp was no longer a matter of pride so much as a matter of privacy.
Claiming to need the distance to mask his inadequacy, Jaime was able to keep Genna and Catelyn
from bothering them.

It wasn’t entirely a lie. Brienne and Jaime would train for some time. Afterwards, they would lay
on the ground and stare up at the stars.

Looking up at the stars often turned into looking up at Jaime. He would crawl over her, placing
deep kisses to her lips. Their mouths and fingers had become well-acquainted with one another
despite Brienne maintaining her status as a maiden.

Before Brienne could reply, Jaime placed a chaste kiss to her lips and winked. Brienne left the tent
with a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

Walking towards the campfire just outside the war council tent, Brienne watched as Catelyn and
Genna sat shoulder to shoulder and discussed the catastrophe that was Jaime and Brynden working
together.

Brynden didn’t want fancy battleplans. He wished to ram through House Bolton by sheer force
alone. He thought it made more sense to keep their army together and leverage the advantage of
numbers.
In truth, Brienne could see the merit of both strategies. She preferred Jaime’s approach for the
same reason that Jaime recommended it. The element of surprise could not be discredited.

When Hyle took off north, Brienne feared that House Bolton would have too much time to prepare.
It had been a terrible day at camp when they found out her deserted. With Brynden having departed
for White Harbor the day prior, the Tully men refused to answer to Jaime.

Catelyn was incensed at their behavior. With all the senior most officers killed at the Red
Wedding, the men remaining were foot soldiers elevated to levels beyond their competency. The
two men Brynden had included in the war council meetings were too green and lacked the maturity
to maintain order.

After chastising the Tully men, Catelyn asked Jaime to assign senior officers from the West to
manage the Tully camp. They had no issues after that, but the damage was done.

Catelyn had confided in Brienne over her internal conflict. She concurred that Winterfell would be
difficult to lay siege to. Their advantage in numbers would likely be neutralized by that fact alone.
Unfortunately, pointing that out only made Brynden more obstinate.

He felt they would need every last man pushing forward against the castle walls. The Boltons
would not be so idiotic as to put the whole of their forces outside the gates. That is where their
battle strategies took another divergence.

Jaime wanted to further the surprise by attacking at night. He felt it would confuse the Boltons and
heighten their advantage. Brynden felt the opposite. He wanted traditional siege tactics including
trebuchets.

It had been the one suggestion Catelyn scoffed at. “So we will just camp outside Winterfell for a
week building trebuchets!? And then how are we to live in the castle, uncle? Do you plan to stay
and rebuild it stone by stone?”

At Catelyn’s question, the Blackfish had looked bitterly to Jaime and raised a brow. “Why not have
your new friend stay and rebuild? I hear he is well enough acquainted with Winterfell’s more
dilapidated structures.”

Standing before the fire outside the war council tent, Brienne looked around the camp. She sat on a
log near Pod and Sansa who had been speaking quietly when the council ended.

Brienne had spent much of the march north training with Jaime, the Tarth commanders, and the
West, but in truth, she enjoyed training Pod.

He was getting much better with a sword and it made Brienne’s chest swell with pride to see how
far he had come under her tutelage.

Of course, nothing compared to training with Jaime. The days with Jaime had been surreal. It had
shocked her at first; being desired. The first time she felt Jaime’s cock pushing wantonly against
her, she jolted.

It was becoming an exercise in torture. They both wanted so much more, but Brienne knew the
location was indecent and Jaime wanted to do right by her. He insisted on finding the nearest
Septon when the battle at Winterfell was won.

Catelyn and Genna had other ideas. They were already planning a grand wedding that neither
Jaime nor Brienne had the patience to wait for. As much as Brienne was willing to steal off with
Jaime to a Sept on the way north, she wished to have her father present.
Brienne was eager to see her father’s reaction when he heard of the betrothal. She wanted him to
present her at the Sept and see him smile proudly when she spoke her vows. It was the thought of
making Selwyn proud that was the only thing keeping Brienne from running off in the night with
Jaime.

When there was a break in the conversation between Pod and Sansa, Brienne looked to the young
man and inquired about joining her for a spar while Jaime and Brynden finished planning. The
young man had never looked more excited.

“Yes, my lady! I wasn’t able to train with Ser Bronn and Ser Addam this evening since they were
busy in the council.”

Standing from the log, Brienne was surprised to hear Sansa’s inquiring voice. “May I join? Not to
spar of course. I just want to watch something other than this fire for a bit.”

“Of course, my lady.”

The sky was beginning to darken as the first stars made their appearance in the sky. Taking a
lantern each, Brienne, Pod, and Sansa walked towards the clearing to the north of camp.

It was nice to get some time to themselves. Pod and Sansa were closer in age, but Brienne enjoyed
spending time with them. She lamented not having any friends when she was their age.

To Brienne, the idea of having friends seemed lovely. She wondered if Ser Brent and the other
Tarth commanders would be more accepting of her someday.

Mayhap they can come to think of me as they did Galladon so many years ago. A friend. Will I
return to Tarth? Does Jaime wish to rule at the Rock?

The clearing was bathed in moonlight as the night sky was devoid of clouds. They set out their
lanterns to form a large triangle around the area. Sansa sat on a tree stump and watched quietly as
Pod and Brienne stretched before moving into position.

They sparred for some time. Pod made many mistakes, but he continued to improve with every
round. From her perch on the tree stump, Sansa shouted encouragements to the young man. His
smile widened as he gradually improved and anticipated Brienne’s blows better.

Brienne was in her element. It was one of many things she and Jaime had in common. They both
felt alive when fighting. Her blood pumped and thudded in her ears; drowned out only by the sound
of steel meeting steel. The edge of Oathkeeper glinted in the moonlight as she concentrated on
dissecting Pod’s movements.

With better fighters such as Jaime, Brienne didn’t have as much time to study her opponent. Her
movements were more reactive. Sparring Pod, Brienne could work on her craft. She could pick
apart his movements, weaknesses, and facial expressions.

To Jaime’s point, one’s face could give a lot away. It was in the eyes. Brienne could see where
Pod was going to move next just by watching his eyes map his path forward.

As they took a break between matches, Brienne heard a rustling of the leaves. Pod and Sansa were
japing with one another and their voices prevented Brienne from hearing the incoming threat as
well as she typically could.

It was too late. Brienne stepped closer to the edge of the tree line to the north. Menacing eyes
peered out from the thickets. A sea of soldiers slowly stood and stared at her.
Brienne’s eyes went wide in shock as she came face to face with Locke and an incredible number
of men. Shouting back to Pod and Sansa, Brienne implored them to retreat to camp and alert the
others.

Before she could see if they had heard her instruction, the men were on her. She slashed wildly as
hands clawed for her arms. Slicing through flesh easily, Brienne felled two men immediately
before stepping back into the clearing and appraising the shadows emerging from the woods.

Gods. There are hundreds of them! I must protect Sansa and Pod. I need to buy them time to get
back.

The sound of Sansa’s scream caught her attention. Two men were at the young woman’s side and
grabbing her arms. Pod was rolling on the forest floor in pain, grabbing at his shoulder.

Charging forward and cutting through an approaching assailant to her right, Brienne cried out for
aid.

Seven hells. We are too far from camp. They won’t hear us over the laughter around the campfires.

Brienne reached Sansa and cut through one of the men tugging at the young woman’s arms. She
spun quickly to the man at Sansa’s other side and sliced clean through his arm. Blood sprayed
everywhere and Sansa screamed in panic.

“Get to the camp!” Slicing her sword across another assailant’s neck, Brienne’s eyes went wide as
her eyes landed on the man’s armor.

The Vale.

Pod had returned to Brienne’s side. His shoulder had a large gash going through hit and he was
losing blood quickly.

“Tell them the Vale is with the North! Go!” Brienne shoved Pod towards Sansa. She watched as
Pod grabbed Sansa’s hand and tugged her towards the camp.

“Brienne! No! Come with us!” Sansa screamed as Pod pulled her towards camp.

“Get to safety! Go! I’ll hold them off.”

Except I won’t. There are too many. I’ve only killed five and there are hundreds.

Brienne took a deep breath and raised her sword as an innumerable number of soldiers stepped into
the clearing. Locke stood menacingly in the middle.

“Now, now. There’s no need for that. Just come with us and I promise we’ll be gentle.” A vicious
smirk tugged at his lips.

With a defiant scream, Brienne slashed wildly at the nearest man. She didn’t know how many men
she killed. Some wore armor and some not. At some cuts, she heard her blade meet a breastplate or
pauldron.

She only cared that she held the men off long enough to keep Pod and Sansa alive. To ensure Lady
Catelyn and the others had time to get to safety. As she screamed and slashed, all Brienne could
think of was how nice it had felt to be loved for a time.

I’m going to die here. At least I’ll die having found some acceptance. Having experienced love.
At her back, a hard blow to Brienne’s calf dropped her to a knee. She spun around and sliced
through the assailant’s leg, taking him to the ground. Brienne could see the pile of bodies on the
forest floor. Roughly half a dozen more were dead or dying by her hand.

More. I need to kill more. I need to protect them.

Spinning back to her left while staying on her knees, Brienne’s blade caught another man’s arm
that was lunging for her. She reached for the dagger at her hip and stabbed the man in the eye for
good measure.

Eleven.

More hands grabbed at Brienne’s hair and shoulders, yanking her hard to the forest floor. Refusing
to drop her sword, Brienne stabbed wildly upwards. Her steel thrust straight through a man’s chin,
sending blood pouring down onto her face.

Twelve.

Brienne awaited the pain to come as the shadows closed in. The night sky was slowly being
obscured by more and more bodies above her. A hand from behind her head grabbed her sword
arm, preventing her from swinging Oathkeeper again. With her dagger still in hand, Brienne took
aim and threw it at one of the shadows, catching the man in the throat.

Thirteen.

Then the shadows were too many. The stars were blocked from view. All Brienne could think of in
that moment were the nights spent under the stars with Jaime. How he would lay beside her, staring
at the sky. How he would abruptly roll on top of her, obscuring her view of the stars. How he
would lean towards her with a loving smile and kiss to her lips.

“Jaime.”
 “We’ll have a flaying contest”
Chapter Summary

The West, Stormlands, and Tullys are attacked. Jaime needs to figure out what they
do.

Jaime dove at the assailant who had moments earlier stumbled through the tent where the women
were. Dragging his blade across the man’s neck as he straddled him, Jaime looked to the women
cowering in the corner.

Catelyn had a bloody dagger in hand and a dead soldier at her feet. Sansa was behind her back,
sobbing and begging for it to stop. Pod stood protectively at Catelyn’s side with his sword raised
shakily and blood dripping down his shoulder. Another soldier lay dead at his feet.

It was then that Jaime saw Genna on the ground, bleeding and gasping for air. Before he had time
to move to Genna, two more soldiers entered the tent and Catelyn screamed to him.

“Jaime! Look out!”

Rolling to his back, Jaime blocked the man’s strike just before it cut through his skull. He kicked
the man hard in the knee, breaking it on contact. The man screamed in agony and fell backwards.
Before the soldier could react, Jaime thrust his sword into the man’s throat and spun around on his
knee to slice across the second soldier’s middle.

A momentary silence descended over the camp and Jaime heard his men calling out their victory.
Relief washed over Jaime as he stumbled to his aunt’s side. Blood caked Jaime’s face and hands as
he reached out for her.

“Aunt Genna. Don’t move.”

The older woman glanced down at her body and grimaced. She had taken a sword to her gut before
Jaime could get to the tent. Had it not been for Pod’s call for help, Jaime would not have reached
them in time.

Catelyn dropped to her knees with a cloth in hand and held it firm to the woman’s gut. Looking
back at Pod, she yelled for him to get aid.

The West had a handful of men among them able to treat field wounds until a maester could be
fetched. It was the best they had to save Genna now.

Seeing that Genna was alert and frightened, Jaime tried to jest with her. It was the only way he
knew to take her mind off it.

“You’ll be alright Aunt Genna. It’s just a scratch. Just enough to piss you off.”

Genna chuckled and rested her head back against the ground. Not long after, Addam and one of the
West’s bannerman rushed into the tent with Pod at their heels.

“Fucking hells, Genna!” Dropping to the ground at Genna’s side, Addam grabbed her hand. “I told
you to stay at the Rock for this very reason!”

The soldier with Addam moved to Catelyn’s side and assessed the wound. He reached into a
satchel and began pulling out items necessary to clean and stitch the wound. “It’s deep, sers. I’ll do
what I can. We need a proper maester.”

Walking towards them, Sansa spoke quietly. Her voice was heavy with tears and her face told the
story of the horrors she had witnessed. “They’re from the Vale. They were trying to take me. Lady
Genna saved me. She stepped before them and wouldn’t let them take me.”

Jaime’s eyes darted from Sansa to Genna. His aunt smiled and shook her head. “You’re a
Lannister. No one messes with our own.”

Catelyn’s eyes went wide as she glanced to the dead soldiers on the ground. “Petyr sent them. He’s
trying to get Sansa. He must still think me dead. That or he knows I’m alive and seeks to betray me
as he betrayed Ned.”

Sansa dropped to the ground and bent down to cradle Genna’s head. “I’m so sorry.”

“Chin up. You’re fine. Your mother killed that shit. Seems payback enough.” Genna winced as the
man cleaned the wound at her stomach. Glancing down, Jaime grimaced. The wound was deep,
just as the man had said. Too deep.

Then Sansa’s head darted up. Her face went ashen as she looked to Jaime. “Brienne. She saved me
and Pod.”

Jaime felt his heart stop. Wordlessly, he stood and ran from the tent; his eyes frantically darting
around. It was a gruesome sight to behold. Dead bodies stretched as far as the eye could see.

Jaime had been in the tent with Brynden when the attack happened. They had been squabbling over
the time to attack for what seemed the hundredth time over the past fortnight.

It was Sansa’s scream that caught their attention. Running out from the tent, Jaime and Brynden
saw Pod pulling Sansa into the tent. It was the men’s call to position that told Jaime all he needed
to know. They were being attacked.

A fucking surprise attack. How novel. Wish we had thought of that. Perhaps at night. Perhaps from
different angles.

The ambush came from the north; head on from the kingsroad. As Jaime began cutting through
assailants left and right, it was then that he realized how extensive the attack was. Gods, there are
thousands of them.

Brynden had been at his side, felling enemy soldiers with a vicious smile on his face. He was
enjoying the battle and Jaime had half a mind to let him handle the rest for the pure sport of it. But
then he saw an archer taking aim at Brynden.

Diving forward, Jaime knocked Brynden to the ground just as an arrow sailed past their heads. In
wordless thanks, Brynden nodded before pushing Jaime off him and standing to charge at the
archer.

Clearly not a Tarth man. They can hit a target.

The battle had dragged on until there were less men running at them. That was when Jaime heard
Pod’s scream and turned in time to see the Vale soldier entering the tent.
Now as Jaime stood outside the women’s tent covered in blood and panicked, he looked back to
the tent and screamed.

“Pod! Pod, get out here! Where was she!?” At Jaime’s screams, the men milling about and taking
appraisal of their losses stopped to look at them. They knew who ‘she’ was. Frantic eyes began
searching the campgrounds and calling for Brienne.

Brynden moved quickly towards them as Pod emerged from the tent. “The clearing, ser. We were
overrun.”

Without waiting to hear another word, Jaime took off sprinting towards the clearing. His heart beat
wildly in his chest knowing Brienne would have been among the first in the path of the ambush.
The lookouts would have been too far out and easily overrun by so many soldiers.

Jaime knew where the clearing was. Each day when they made camp, Jaime and Brienne would
look for places to train and enjoy time together before the hour grew too late.

Jaime heard fast moving footsteps at his back as he raced through the dark. Low hanging branches
and long thickets grabbed at his limbs and face. He ran as fast as his legs could take him. Dread
pooled in his gut knowing Brienne wouldn’t have stood a chance against so many.

Entering the clearing, he could see the area bathed in moonlight. Roughly a dozen bodies littered
the forest floor, but Jaime saw no sign of Brienne.

“Brienne! Brienne!” Jaime screamed as loud as he could. Addam and Brynden rushed past him,
checking the tree line to the east and ordering men to begin scouring the area. Catelyn was
speaking urgently to Pod who stood in shock, staring down at the dead bodies.

“Pod, did you see any of it? Did they take her?” At Catelyn’s words, Jaime turned and stared at the
young boy. Pod gaped and stammered, barely getting his words out.

“I... I don’t know. There were… so many. I… I don’t. I didn’t see. She was fighting them… alone.
I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! She… she told me to take Sansa.”

Did she kill all these men? She couldn’t have. Did the lookouts make it to her before being
overrun?

Jaime screamed in frustration and kicked one of the bodies. Appraising the dead, Jaime noticed that
several of Brienne’s presumed kills were closer together at the western edge of the clearing.

They were closing in on her. Why would they take her? Is Littlefinger turning her over to Cersei?
He clearly wants Sansa. Why would they have come from the north though?

Moving to the group of dead men, Jaime caught sight of something on the ground. Catching the
moonlight, a necklace that Jaime would recognize anywhere shone brightly.

Dropping to his knees, Jaime grabbed the sapphire necklace and closed his fist around it. “They
have her. They have Brienne.”

He remembered the first time he saw it during one of their early morning spars. Jaime teasingly
tackled Brienne after refusing to yield when she disarmed him.

The sun’s rays caught the gem as the necklace tumbled from her pocket. Picking it up, Jaime
teased. “Wench! Is this a necklace!? Do you own something girly?”
Brienne had snatched it back and tucked it into her pocket. “Don’t mock me!”

The vehemence in her tone caught him off guard. “I… I wasn’t mocking you. I just didn’t expect
you to have something like that.”

“Yes, well of course I shouldn’t.”

Jaime’s brows furrowed as he looked to her. He could see the shame in her eyes as she stood from
the ground and brushed herself off.

Brienne wouldn’t steal anything. Why shouldn’t she have it?

Grabbing her wrist as he remained kneeling on the forest floor, Jaime searched her eyes. “I didn’t
say that you shouldn’t. Where did you get it?”

“My father gave it to me before I left. It was my mother’s. He thought I might like to have it.”

Without releasing Brienne’s wrist, Jaime stood from the ground and tilted his head. “Why not wear
it? You’ll lose it just keeping it in your pocket like that. It looks quite nice.”

Looking away, Brienne picked up her sword and sheathed it. “It’s quite beautiful and delicate. It
would be frivolous on me. Like a crown of flowers on a cow’s head.”

Brienne moved quickly from the clearing, but Jaime wouldn’t see her walk off upset. “You should
wear it. It reminds me of your eyes. Not as pretty as them of course.”

Brienne rounded on him. “Don’t. Just pretend you never saw it, please.”

A hand at Jaime’s arm shook him from the memory. Catelyn crouched beside him and pulled open
his hand as Jaime sat wordlessly on his knees. His face was crestfallen as he hung his head. He
wanted to scream and cry and run everyone through with a sword.

“What is that?” Catelyn’s voice brought him back to the present.

“Her necklace. It’s her mothers. Littlefinger has her.” Jaime’s voice was hollow. It was as though
Littlefinger stole off with his soul when he took Brienne.

Catelyn’s brows furrowed as she shook her head. Her finger extended to one of the bodies near the
tree line. “Look at his face, Jaime. That is a Bolton soldier.”

Following Catelyn’s finger, Jaime felt like he had been thrown into the icy seas of the far north. He
remembered that man. He was with Locke’s group that took them to Harrenhal. The one who
brought the healer.

Rage coursed through Jaime’s body before a different sensation washed over him. Fear.

His eyes went wide, and his head snapped to Catelyn. He saw his own worst fears mirrored on her
face. When she spoke, her voice was filled with desperation. Her hands clutched at his arms.

“We need to get to Winterfell now. I don’t want to think what they’ll do to her.”

Brynden spoke from Jaime’s back. “We’ll get her back. If they harm a hair on her head, we’ll turn
them into their own sigil.”

The Blackfish placed a hand on Jaime’s shoulder and squeezed. “Come on, boy. We’re doing this
your way. Numbers mean shit now. Only resolve.”
Making their way back to the camp, Jaime felt numb. He heard the men whispering and asking Pod
question after question.

“She was alone when you left? You didn’t kill any? She didn’t flee with you? She felled them all?”

Of course, she didn’t flee. She never backs down from a fight. She would fight until the Stranger
takes her.

When they arrived back at the camp, two of the West’s officers were awaiting them. Without a
word, Jaime moved into the war council tent and braced for the worst. He leaned against the table
and closed his eyes as his head hung in a mix of frustration and despair.

They have Brienne. The Boltons have my Brienne. My wench.

“Ser Jaime, each contingent has counted their losses.” With a deep breath, Jaime looked up through
his lashes. His men stood between Catelyn and Brynden who looked as wary as he felt.

“The Stormlands lost 2,000 of their 5,000. The Tully army lost 1,500 of their 2,000. We lost 6,000
of our 15,000.”

Fuck.

“We lost almost half. We have 12,500 fucking men. We lost Brienne!” Jaime slammed his fist onto
the table and stood upright. Rubbing his forehead angrily, he began to pace.

From the other side of the table, Brynden spoke gruffly to Jaime’s men. “Ready the men. Be
prepared to move out within an hour if necessary.”

The sound of retreating footsteps filled the tent as another set of footsteps approached Jaime. A
firm hand gripped his arm, stopping his frantic pacing. Jaime looked up to see the stern expression
of Brynden Tully. Save for Catelyn, they were again alone in the tent.

“Cat. Leave us.”

With a worried expression, Catelyn’s eyes darted between the two men before she exited the tent.

At the sound of the tent flaps fluttering in her wake, a momentary silence filled the tent. Jaime was
seething. He wanted to take a horse straight to Winterfell and cut down every Bolton and Vale
soldier he came across.

“My brother died in the middle of our Houses’ war. He and I had been fighting for 30 years. Do
you know his biggest complaint of it all?”

Jaime’s brows furrowed slightly, and he shook his head in refute.

“He said to stop calling myself Blackfish. Said it was a stupid jape that was hardly amusing to
begin with. Of course, it was more than that. We both knew it. It all started because I wouldn’t do
my duty to House Tully. I turned down a betrothal he arranged for me. Family, duty, honor. I
slighted the first two words by refusing the match. He called me the black goat of the family and I
jested that we were fish, not goats.”

Brynden’s hand released Jaime’s arm. A huff of laughter pushed past his lips. “No one asked me
why I refused. Everyone just assumed I wanted nothing to do with being a lord. That I only wanted
to be a knight.”
A sea of memories seemed to play out across his face before he spoke again. “It was a bit
bothersome at first, but it bolstered my reputation. The Blackfish. A man so dedicated to his craft
that he refused a generous match. A true knight. I almost believed all that shit, but it was never
true.”

A knowing smile tugged at Brynden’s lips. “It was a mask I wore; that I wanted to be a knight, not
a lord. In truth, I didn’t want anyone telling me who and when to marry. I wanted love. We nobles
never seem to get it. Well… not all of us.” The Blackfish raised a knowing brow at Jaime and
chuckled before continuing.

“But I’m more than the Blackfish just as you’re more than the Kingslayer, aren’t you? My niece
told me what you did. No one asked you why either. I suppose of all people, I should have asked
you. I read you wrong as Westeros read me wrong. It’s easy to play a part when it’s forced on you,
isn’t it? You care deeply even if you play at indifference. I saw that wild look in your eyes when
you thought her dead.”

Jaime’s childhood idol stood appraising him. Brynden huffed a laugh. “Gods you were an
annoying shit as a boy. Following me around, asking an obscene amount of questions. I saw it in
you then. You don’t do anything halfway. If you’re going to be a knight; you’re going to save a
fucking city in the most selfless way. If you’re going to love your lady; you’re going to tear down
an entire kingdom to get to her.”

Moving to the table, Brynden sighed. “But… I need you to suppress that right now. If you wish to
keep her alive, you must to approach this rationally. Tear them apart when the times comes, but not
now. Have a cool head about you. Come here and look at this map. Come remind me why my
great-nephew was practically pissing himself when he moved against you. We are going to figure
this out. We are going to get her back. If they harm her, my promise stands. We’ll have a flaying
contest.”
 “The Kingslayer is here”
Chapter Summary

Brienne arrives at Winterfell and finds out more of what happened.

Brienne was thrown from the horse abruptly. The cloth over her head prevented her from
anticipating the ground before it met her body. As she groaned in pain, the memory of doing the
same to Jaime rushed to her mind. A slight chuckle pushed past her lips.

Miserable shit, he was. I suppose this is karma.

Rough hands hauled Brienne to her feet, and a swift blow to her gut doubled her over. A pair of
hands at each arm prevented her from dropping to a knee as she gasped for air. Locke’s voice spoke
venomously at the side of her head as Brienne struggled to breath.

“There. Now I made ya a normal height.” Brienne heard Locke’s footsteps retreat as he called out
to someone. “We got the big bitch.”

The hands at her arms dragged her forward. Brienne’s wrists throbbed from the tight bindings the
men had placed on her. Her hands had gone numb at some point in the night from the lack of blood
flow.

The men dragged her inside a holding which Brienne assumed to be Winterfell. As the warmth hit
chilled body, Brienne felt a slight panic as she pondered what they aimed to do with her.

Will they turn me into their sigil? What will they do to me? I won’t give them anything. Not a piece
of information.

Turning into a room, Brienne was brought to an abrupt halt. A set of hands snatched the cloth off
her head; catching and tearing out some of her hair in the process. With a slight wince, Brienne
looked up and came face to face with Roose Bolton. Behind him were three men. Hyle Hunt stood
beside a younger man who Brienne did not recognize. Littlefinger was just off to the side.

Brienne remembered Littlefinger from the man’s visit to Renly’s camp. After everything she
learned of him on the journey with Lady Catelyn, she did not trust him. All four men wore stern
expressions as they appraised her.

As her eyes landed on Hyle, the young knight smirked and licked his lips. His nose looked a mess
and there appeared to be lingering bruises under each eye. Hate pooled in Brienne’s gut.

“Where is the Kingslayer?” Roose looked to Locke with a displeased expression on his face.

“Wasn’t there m’lord. Just the big bitch, some shit boy, and the girl.” At Locke’s response,
Baelish’s eyes went wide.

“You don’t have Lady Sansa?”

Locke snorted and tilted his head. “She got away. I had strict orders to bring this one. Ya men were
supposed to bring the one ya wanted. Go ask them where she is.”
At Locke’s words, Roose narrowed his eyes in annoyance. “Where are Lord Baelish’s men?”

“Don’t know. Only me men rode with me. I sent a scout back, but no one else from our army
returned.”

Brienne could see the fire burning in Littlefinger’s eyes. “What do you mean you don’t know? You
took 9,000 of my men with you. How could 11,000 of you not manage to secure one girl? You
were to attack while they slept!”

11,000!? Gods. Who from my side survived?

“Didn’t have time for all that. We had to attack sooner.” Locke shrugged as though it mattered
little. He had done his job. He brought them Brienne.

Roose took a menacing step forward. “What do you mean you had to attack sooner? You were to
attack when they slept for a reason. We were to end this fucking war before it started.”

With a deep sigh, Locke shook his head in irritation. “Like I said, we got to the clearin’ as Hunt
told us. The Kingslayer wasn’t there. Our men almost had the girl, but this bitch killed ‘em. She
killed quite a few in fact and the girl made it back to the camp to alert the Kingslayer. It turned into
a fuckin’ battle instead of an easy ambush. Their camp was split in two. Half hit us from the
northwest. Like I said… I left with the bitch and me men.”

Northwest? We didn’t have our camp split in two. What is he on about?

Brienne glanced to Locke. He stood defensively as if waiting for the assault to come. Roose
glanced at Brienne questioningly before looking back to Locke.

“How many in your group returned.”

A smile tugged at Brienne’s lips. It took two days to get to Winterfell. They had kept her head
covered the entire way, but despite that, Brienne could hear the men around her. There couldn’t
have been more than twenty.

“Eighteen.”

The tension in the room was palpable.

“If none of ours remain, they won the battle and now we are down 11,000 men. Send out scouts. I
want to know how many of theirs live. They’re likely no more than a day out, if that.”

Locke bowed and left the room quickly. With a deep sigh, Roose looked back at Baelish. “We still
have 10,000 men and the advantage of the castle. The Kingslayer is rash. If he lives, he’s likely to
come running straight here without a plan. And now… we have something to entice him with.”

Roose’s eyes raked Brienne’s body. She swallowed thickly and glanced to the other men. Stepping
forward, Hyle spoke urgently.

“You can’t kill her. I need to wed her so that I may claim what is owed to me.”

Roose sighed and glanced to Brienne. His head tilted slightly in consideration.

“You don’t trap an animal with dead bait. Put her in the cells. You’ll get your wedding when we
get the Kingslayer’s head and Lord Baelish has Lady Sansa.”

Guards moved to Brienne’s side and dragged her from the room. Descending a staircase, Brienne
was pulled down a long, dark hallway. Flickering torches lit the way towards what Brienne
assumed to be the cells. A guard outside the entrance stood at their approach.

With a nod, he unlocked the door and pulled it open. The lower level of the castle smelled musty.
A slight stench filled the air as Brienne was pulled into a large room containing a dozen cells. It
was incredibly dark with only two torchlights illuminating the space.

Dragging her the length of the room, the men threw her into the cell as violently as she was thrown
from the horse earlier. As the cell door was closed and locked behind her, Brienne waited for her
eyes to adjust to the dim lighting.

Brienne startled slightly when she saw movement in the cell directly across from hers. A young
girl sat upright and stared at her. She had short hair and a fierce look to her. Moving towards the
cell door, the girl clutched the bars and pushed her face between them.

“Who are you?”

Brienne moved to the cell door and spoke quietly to the girl. “Brienne Tarth. Who are you?”

The girl’s face fell slightly. She seemed to toy with something before answering. “Who do you
fight for?”

Fair question. If I was a girl of that age and in this situation, I wouldn’t give my name out willingly
either.

“Lady Catelyn Stark. I’m her sworn sword.”

At Brienne’s response, the girl’s eyes darkened. “No you’re not. Lady Stark is dead.”

The girl stepped back from the cell door and sat down against the bars to the right. With a deep
sigh, she began picking at the straw on the floor and breaking it into small pieces.

“Lady Stark is very much alive. She is marching north right now to reclaim her home and destroy
House Bolton.”

The girl’s head turned towards her. “What did you say your name was?”

“Brienne Tarth.”

In the dim lighting, Brienne could see the girl struggling with something. Moving back to the cell
door, she appraised Brienne. “Where are you from?”

Brienne huffed a small laugh. “Tarth. We’re not very creative with names it would seem. It’s in the
Stormlands, but I serve Lady Catelyn now. Some of my people are in her army moving north.”

Something sparked in the girl’s eyes. She hung her head in annoyance as she spoke. “I was never
good with the Houses and sigils. Not like Sansa.”

At the mention of Sansa, Brienne’s eyes went wide.

Gods. It can’t be.

“Arya? Are you Arya Stark?”

The girl’s head snapped up. “It’s true then!? My mother lives and is with Sansa?”
A wide smile spread across Brienne’s face. She nodded eagerly. “Yes. She’s well. We have 22,000
men moving north. Well… we had 22,000 men. I hardly know how many remain after the attack,
but they won the first battle.”

Arya’s brows rose at the words. “And Jon!? Was he there? My brother.”

“Jon? No. We have men from the Stormlands, the Riverlands, and the West. Your great-uncle, the
Blackfish, is among them.”

The girl deflated slightly at the words. She spoke bitterly; more to herself than Brienne. “Oh. I
thought my brother might come. I guess I shouldn’t have trusted the Hound to help.”

“The Hound? What do you mean? Isn’t your brother a man of the Night’s Watch?”

Arya sighed. “Yes, but I sent someone for him. Well… I thought I did. Sandor Clegane brought me
to the Vale, but they threw him in a sky cell. When I heard Littlefinger talking to my aunt about the
Lannister brothers having my sister and marching north on Winterfell, I freed him. I should have
gone with him, but I thought they might come looking for me and then we wouldn’t get to Jon.
Littlefinger told my aunt that he was going to take the Vale to aid the North and get Sansa back. He
said he was taking me to ensure our alliance with the North. Jon would help if he knew what was
going on. I know it.”

Brienne thought back to the conversation upstairs. A thought formed in her mind. “Mayhap he has
arrived. A comment Lord Bolton made upstairs… it was odd. I don’t know.”

“Are you a knight?” The young girl looked to Brienne hopefully.

“No. I’m just… I don’t know what. A woman with a sword, I suppose.”

Arya considered the words and shook her head. “But you protect my mother? You know how to
fight with a sword?”

“Yes. I suppose you could say I’m a soldier, although the other soldiers might not think so. Men
aren’t typically pleased with my presence at camp. Well, the Stormlands wasn’t. The West spars
with me.”

The girl’s eyes darkened again as the mention of the West. “You shouldn’t trust the West. House
Lannister destroyed my family. They killed my father.”

“Some of the Lannisters. Not all. The Lannister brothers are good men. They’re protecting your
mother and sister. I swear it. Ser Jaime saved your mother and me. He and Lord Tyrion betrayed
their House to get your sister out of the city.”

Arya considered the words. Her eyes narrowed suspiciously, but she said nothing. They spoke for
some time. Arya was curious to hear how Brienne learned to fight. She was also curious to know
about Brienne’s time in Renly’s camp.

Soon, the young girl fell asleep. With no natural light to be had, it was impossible to know how
much time had passed. It wasn’t long after before Brienne fell asleep herself. She dreamed of
Jaime. Jaime saving her from Locke. Jaime saving her from a bear. Jaime saving her at Winterfell.

The sound of a door creaking open alerted Brienne that someone had entered the cells. Brienne’s
eyes blinked open to see two figures approaching her cell. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes,
Brienne waited for her eyes to focus.
Sitting upright, Brienne recognized Hyle as one of the men. The other she did not know. Hyle held
a torchlight in hand and scanned the cells. Then his eyes landed on her and a smirk pulled at his
lips.

“There you are. Brienne the Beauty. I do hope you’ll be more accommodating in this conversation
than the one we tried to have at the Kingslayer’s camp.” Hyle moved slowly to the cell door and
stood before it.

Across the way, Brienne could see Arya stir slightly. The young girl stood up and stood against the
bars at the righthand side of her cell. Her eyes narrowed as Hyle sneered at Brienne.

“All you had to do was your duty. Your father promised me an island. I was even willing to bed
you once. That would be once more than you deserve. I would have let you live too. Now, I’ll just
need you alive long enough for a maester to record the marriage and appease that father of yours.”

Hyle looked around the cells; his nose scrunching in distaste. “Smells like shit in here. Mayhap
you’ve been spending too much time with the Kingslayer. I can smell him on you.”

The door to the cells swung open. A guard barked at the young man with Hyle. “Reek! Lord
Ramsay says get upstairs. Ya takin’ too long!”

The man called out feebly to the guard before looking to Hyle. “Yes, ser.” Pleased with the
response, the guard moved out of the doorway and slammed the door. Reek looked to Hyle and
spoke in hushed tones. “Can you find your way back to the great hall, ser?”

Nodding at the man, Hyle turned back to Brienne. Brienne observed a strange exchange between
Reek and Arya. He backed up slightly with his hand behind his back. Something passed between
them that Brienne could not see. When Reek’s eyes met Brienne, he gave a near imperceptible nod
before retreating from the cells and shutting the door behind him.

Brienne could hear the distant turn of the key and muffled words from the other side of the door to
the cells. Glancing to Arya, the girl flashed a key and small knife before concealing them at her
side. Taking a deep breath, Brienne walked to the bars of the cell.

“I’m sorry about it all Hyle. Please, just don’t let them kill me. You can go to Tarth without me.
I’ll tell my father of it. I just don’t want to die at the hands of House Bolton.”

Not technically a lie.

Brienne knew she was an awful liar. Fortunately, the lighting would help to mask the truth in her
eyes. She needed Hyle to consider the words. To believe her. She needed him to just take one step
forward. Just close enough. It worked.

Hyle smirked. “Of course you will. We’ll wed immediately when this is done. I’ll have the record
sent to your father and you will let him know.” Hyle took a step forward and it was just the
distance Brienne needed.

Her hands flew out and grabbed his jerkin. Tugging him hard against the cell, Hyle’s face smashed
into the bars. Another crunch confirmed his nose broke again and blood began to pour from his
face. Wanting to ensure he was incapacitated, Brienne tugged him hard a second time into the cell
bars.

From behind Hyle, Arya unlocked her cell door. Stumbling backwards, Hyle grabbed his face and
groaned. Small hands reached out with the knife and she shoved it into Hyle’s back. Arya moved
from the cell and unlocked Brienne’s door just as Hyle lunged forward and grabbed the girl.
“Fucking bitch!” Hyle screamed and he pulled Arya backwards hard.

Stepping from cell, Brienne grabbed Hyle and elbowed him to the temple. The force sent him
careening into the bars of Arya’s cell. In a panic, Brienne looked to Arya and told her to get into
her cell. She knew the noise would alert the guard outside.

Throwing Hyle hard to the ground of her cell, Brienne closed the cell door quickly and slammed
his head into the stone floor. The knight from the Reach went still as Brienne climbed over his
unconscious body. She knew what it must have looked like and that was what she needed the guard
to think.

Sure enough, the guard burst into the room. With a torch in hand, he squinted into the dimly lit
cells. Given their proximity at the far end of the room, Brienne knew that he could likely only see
their outlines.

The guard took one look at their shadowed figures and guffawed. “Can’t wait til the weddin’, huh.
Hurry the fuck up!”

The guard slammed the door behind him and locked it again. Brienne turned her attention back to
Hyle. Grabbing the knife at his back, Brienne yanked it out. The act jolted Hyle from his
unconscious state.

Hyle was groggy, but alert. Placing her hand firmly over his mouth, Brienne leaned down towards
his ear.

“My duty is not to marry you. I will marry for love or not at all.”

Dragging the knife across Hyle’s throat, Brienne held her hand firmly over his mouth to drown out
his gurgling. When he stilled under her and the only motion came from the blood pooling out
below him, Brienne stood up and moved quietly to the cell door. Shutting it behind her, she looked
to Arya.

Arya stood rooted in place with a small smile on her face. Whispering to the young girl, Brienne
instructed her to stay put. “I’m going to get rid of that guard. Wait right there.”

As she walked the length of the room and reached the door, Brienne stood pressed against the wall
off to the right. With a light rap of her knuckles, Brienne listened to hear the guard grunt in
annoyance from the hallway on the other side.

“Fuckin’ hells. What now.”

Footsteps wafted from the other side of the door and the sound of a torchlight being pulled off the
wall signaled the guard’s return. The man shambled forward, and Brienne heard the door handle
jiggle as he unlocked and tugged it open.

As he did before, the man took one stop into the room. Squinting ahead, he didn’t notice Brienne
pressed close to the wall at this side. With the knife in hand, Brienne dragged the blade across his
throat and used her free hand to cover his mouth.

The guard’s eyes went wide as the life slowly drained from his body. As his body slumped to the
ground, Brienne quickly dragged him down the row of cells towards Arya’s. The young girl
stepped out from the cell and watched as Brienne dragged the dead guard inside.

Taking the guard’s dagger and sword, Brienne armed herself and grabbed the man’s set of keys.
Brienne looked to Arya and spoke quietly. “I take it you know a way out? Ideally not through the
main Keep.”

With a wolfish grin, Arya nodded and they began to move forward. They reached the end of the
hallway and the young girl peeked around the doorframe.

“Follow me. I know the way without torchlight.”

They slipped into the hallway and moved quickly along the corridor. Rapid footsteps on the stairs
ahead caught their attention. Tugging Arya towards the stairs, Brienne took out the dagger and
moved to the opposite wall.

Only one set of footsteps could be heard approaching and Brienne readied the blade. A shadow
stretched across the base of the stairs before them as Brienne kept her body flush against the wall
with Arya to her right.

As the man stepped down, Brienne grabbed his mouth and nearly dragged the blade across his
throat, but she stopped just in time.

Reek.

Arya grabbed Brienne’s arm after realization dawned on her as well. The man flailed in Brienne’s
arms and his movements echoed slightly off the walls.

“Quiet now. I’m going to let go of you.”

Removing her hand from the man’s mouth, he turned and met Brienne’s eyes. He whispered to
them and pointed in the opposite direction. “Arya, we need to get to the crypts first.”

“No. Theon, we are leaving. This is the best way out.”

Theon?

The young man shook his head and tugged Arya, encouraging them into a jog. “I have Rickon
hidden in the crypts. We can take the underground passages from there. Lord Bolton is riding out
now and ordered his men to get Brienne. They mean to throw her from atop the battlements. The
Kingslayer is here.”
 “The Lannisters send their regards”
Chapter Summary

Jaime, Catelyn, and the army arrive at Winterfell.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Catelyn moved into the tent and saw Jaime kneeling at his aunt’s side. A maester had been brought
from Cerwyn as they moved north along the Kingsroad.

They had ridden hard for two days to arrive at the outskirts of Winterfell. Genna was in much pain,
but the maester thought she would pull through so long as infection didn’t set in.

It had been an overwhelming couple of days. While Jaime and Brynden put together a plan for
battle, their newly assigned lookouts approached Catelyn with two men.

Catelyn gasped at the sight of the men. Both looked like they had been through the Seven Hells
and back again. Jon’s name came out a whisper on Catelyn’s lips.

“Jon.”

Moving slowly towards him as if seeing a ghost, Catelyn appraised him. “What are you doing
here?”

Taking a deep breath, Jon glanced at the Hound. “Sandor came to find me at the Wall. He said
Arya was in trouble and Sansa was with the Lannisters moving north against Winterfell.”

“Arya!? Where is she!?” Catelyn’s heart jumped at the name. Her eyes darted to the Hound who
looked like a man lost. The man’s gruff voice spoke in answer.

“Littlefinger has her. Took her to Winterfell to sell to the Boltons. She freed me at the Vale and
asked me to get Jon.”

Catelyn glanced to Jon who was eyeing the men of the West suspiciously. Giving as quick a
summary as she could, Catelyn watched as both men struggled to digest the information.

The Hound huffed a bitter laugh. “Fucking Kingslayer.”

“Don’t!” A protective rage flashed in Catelyn’s eyes as she met the Hound’s vacant stare. His half-
burned face gave away nothing as he hummed in response.

Jon sighed and shook his head. “We took out some of the North and Vale just north of here. We
saw them moving south and tried to take out as many as we could. We lost many of our men
unfortunately.”

Catelyn’s brows furrowed slightly. “Lost many men? Who? Men of the Night’s Watch?”

“No. Stannis’ men. Sellswords in truth. He came to the Wall when he heard the Wildlings were
marching south. He wished to add their ranks to his numbers, but they refused him. Stannis had
10,000. He is just north of Winterfell with 5,000. He let me take the other 5,000 to get here faster.
There were whispers in the villages of a battle to come. I was worried that I wouldn’t get to the
girls in time.”

It was all so much to process. Catelyn had little desire to ally with Stannis, but she found herself in
a predicament. Accept their aid and bend to Stannis, or fight a second army in the battle to come.

Gods. Nothing can be easy, can it?

Before she could reply, Jon spoke again. “He… he offered to legitimize me. To award me
Winterfell for backing his claim. I agreed to support his claim, but not to take Winterfell nor the
Stark name. I know it isn’t mine to claim. I asked him to grant it to the boys if they live, or Sansa if
they don’t. I didn’t realize you were alive. I’m sorry.”

He turned it down? He asked for Sansa to be recognized?

Catelyn felt numb at the information. Standing before her was the young man that represented
Ned’s only betrayal. The boy she once feared would contest her sons for Winterfell.

The Night’s Watch had been a perfect solution to that. He would take no wife and father no
children. No children to move against her own.

Now Jon stood before her having turned down the opportunity to take Winterfell and Ned’s name.
Now Jon was fighting to win back the North for the boys or Sansa.

Nodding her head slightly, Catelyn met Jon’s eyes. Her voice betrayed her shock at it. “Thank you
for coming to our aid. I would speak with Stannis after the war to better understand his terms. Jon,
there is much you don’t know of him. He is not someone that I trust.”

Jon sighed and nodded. “Yes, I don’t trust him myself after what I saw at the Wall. I just didn’t
know what else to do. There was no other way to get the aid necessary. I didn’t know what to make
of hearing that Sansa was with the Lannisters. I thought I had two armies to face. Stannis will be
pleased to know these men march against the crown’s allies.”

Oh, gods. Jaime.

“Don’t tell Stannis of Ser Jaime. Lets speak with Uncle Brynden and Jaime. If Stannis sees Ser
Jaime beforehand, I don’t know that he will come to our aid, or he may try to wait until the battle
is won and take action against the West.”

With a nod of understanding, Jon nodded and waited by the fire as Catelyn moved to enter the war
council tent. Taking pause, Catelyn reached out and grabbed his arm. It was the first time in years
she had touched the boy. Resentment and fear made her wary of Jon.

“Jon. Thank you.”

The young man smiled slightly. He had always been a sullen boy. Unless he was around Arya or
the boys, Jon’s brooding seemed limitless.

“Of course. They’re my family. I’ll always fight for them.”

Catelyn felt her throat burn and tears form at the back of her eyes. The words echoed in her head as
she took a deep breath. Before Catelyn moved towards the tent, the Hound huffed in thinly veiled
annoyance.
“It’s true then? The Kingslayer left his cunt sister behind?”

Catelyn snorted. “You have no idea how far behind he has left her.”

With a huff of laughter, the Hound shook his head and grumbled. “Where is the smug, insufferable
shit?”

Gods. This will be fun.

Now Catelyn stood near the flaps of the tent and watched as Genna clasped Jaime’s face in her
hands. She was speaking in hushed tones that Catelyn could not make out, but Genna’s face was
determined. Nodding emphatically at whatever they were discussing, Genna wiped at Jaime’s face.

As he stood up, Genna barked at him. “Now go get me my future goodniece.”

With a huff of laughter, Jaime moved quickly past Catelyn and from the tent. Appraising the older
woman, Catelyn cocked her head in question. “How are you feeling today, Lady Genna?”

The woman barked a laugh as she shook her head. “I’ll feel better when this day is done. Get your
daughter back. Get Brienne back. Kill those miserable shits and save me the trouble of crawling out
of this cot to do so.”

With a small smile, Catelyn looked back towards the tent flaps before leaving. “Sansa and Tyrion
will be in when we ride out. Something tells me that even in your state, you’ll be protecting Sansa.”

A wide smile stretched across Genna’s face. “Me and Tyrion. We take care of our own. You may
not like the match, but I promise you this, Tyrion will protect her as though it was their choice to
wed.”

Something in Catelyn knew the words to be true. Both brothers were protectors in their own way.
Tyrion may not be skilled with a sword as Jaime was, but he had found other ways to keep Sansa
safe in a city full of danger.

“I know he would. He already has.”

Stepping from the tent, Catelyn appraised the men who stood in formation. The day prior, House
Cerwyn and House Manderly arrived. It had taken the Manderlys time to call the banners, but they
came through. Jaime’s lookouts to the south had spotted their approach just off the kingsroad.

When House Manderly saw the rotting bodies of over 20,000 not two days back, they feared the
war over. With the additional forces, Jaime earned an extra 2,500 for their cause.

We should have more than enough. We have 21,000 between Stannis’ men and the Northern
vassals.

Jaime led the decoy contingent. Their group had 8,000 which included the newly arrived 2,500
from the North, and 5,500 from their original group. They would stand before the gates and
pretend at being all that survived from their combined forces.

The Blackfish had taken 7,000 around House Cerwyn’s lands to approach Winterfell from the east.
They remained at a distance just west of the White Fork. Their scouts would await Jaime’s signal.
They wanted to lure the entirety of Roose’s forces from the gates first. Winterfell was too difficult
to effectively siege with an army of their size.

Stannis would keep 5,000 men concealed in the distance until the signal was given. Another 1,000
of Stannis’ men would enter through the hidden tunnels of Winterfell. Originally, Jaime had
planned to send Addam and some men through the passageway that reached the crypts of
Winterfell, but Catelyn worried they may get lost in the maze that was the ancient tunnel system.
Even Catelyn struggled with them. She tried to piece it together from memory as best she could
two nights prior when Jaime and Brynden told her of their plans.

It seemed that her children and Jon had spent far more time exploring the hidden passageways.
When Jon offered to lead the way, Catelyn felt an immense relief.

It seemed the surest way to get to Arya and Brienne, and the tactic would not require a favorable
outcome in the battle to ensure the two were secured. Jon had taken the plan back to Stannis and
Catelyn was relieved that he didn’t ride ahead to meet with them himself.

They had arrived at their current location the night prior. Jaime sent out an assigned group with
their orders, and so far, every contingent was where they needed to be.

Walking towards the front of the lines, Catelyn saw Jaime speaking with Addam before mounting
his horse. The army at Jaime’s back looked more determined than any army Catelyn had laid eyes
on. Each contingent was bound by a common cause. Brienne.

Word had circulated at the camp of what happened in the clearing. Any jovial evenings spent
around the campfire were long-gone. The Tully men were sullen. It was their contingent that
betrayed their plans to Hyle. They felt responsible for Brienne’s capture.

The Stormlands forces were frustrated. Their numbers were nearly halved. They were a kingdom
already depleted from prior wars. Further, the men’s moods had soured at the capture of the future
Evenstar. Tarth was a key vassal in the Stormlands, and they could not lose Lord Selwyn’s
daughter and only heir.

The West reflected the mood of their lord and commander. A storm was brewing in them that was
about to descend on House Bolton and the Vale. Had Catelyn not known any better, she would
think the Boltons had stolen away with Jaime himself.

House Manderly and House Cerwyn were positioned on the outermost column. They looked to
Catelyn as she passed and bowed in address. Theirs was contingent determined to see House Stark
back at Winterfell.

There must always be a Stark at Winterfell.

Making her way to the front of the lines, Catelyn mounted a horse beside Jaime. House Manderly
had brought with them three hundred destriers to take into battle. Looking to Jaime, Catelyn saw a
fire in his eyes that she had never seen before.

Over the course of their acquaintance, Catelyn had seen much in Jaime’s eyes; arrogance, anger,
mirth, and, when looking at Brienne, love. The look on his face now was one that made her
understand why men feared facing him in battle.

With a nod of Jaime’s head, their army moved forward towards Winterfell. Catelyn could feel her
heart beating wildly as the castle came closer into view. Knowing that Arya and Brienne were
inside the castle was eating away at her.

Glancing at Jaime, Catelyn could see his jaw clenching as he stared ahead resolutely. She thought
back to the night of the attack on their camp. He had looked so broken.

The men were preparing to move out following Jaime and Brynden mapping out a plan. As they
divided into two groups, Jaime stood before the fire and stared down at the necklace in his hand.
Catelyn had approached and he spoke solemnly to her without making eye contact.

‘I can handle losing the sword hand, but I can’t lose her.’

Catelyn had worried over Jaime for the two days it took them to prepare for this moment. Tyrion
tried and failed to get Jaime to talk, but the older Lannister would do little more than spend the
nights looking north and the daybreaks during their march training.

Since Jaime lost his hand, Catelyn had only seen him train once. It had taken Catelyn by surprise to
see him train with Addam and Brent just a day ago.

Catelyn expected Jaime to struggle. She wanted nothing more than for Jaime to stay at the rear of
the lines and let his men lay siege. The thought of him falling in battle worried her. Then she saw
him train.

It was as Ned once described him. Catelyn could have been convinced that Jaime was born
lefthanded with how far he had come in a relatively short period of time. She knew of course that
his left could not rival his right. The thought made her gasp in wonder at what he must have been
like to face with his dominant hand.

Gods. He’s going to kill them all himself.

When the army reached their mark, Jaime looked to Addam and Ser Brent. Addam flanked Jaime
while Brent flanked Catelyn. The four of them rode out to meet the approaching figures of Roose,
Petyr, Locke, and a man that Catelyn could not place from the distance.

Catelyn appraised the scene before them. Archers lined the battlements of Winterfell. A contingent
stood in formation outside the gates.

As they had observed the night prior when scouts were sent out, roughly a dozen Bolton soldiers
stood beside the Bolton banners lining the left and right sides of what would become the
battlefield. They stood guard with bows and arrows raised in position and aimed at their group of
four.

As they moved forward, Catelyn glared at Petyr. The expression on his face made it clear that he
was not aware of her survival. It mattered little to Catelyn.

He betrayed Ned. He knew my daughter was with my sworn sword. Brienne would not have kept
Sansa with the Lannisters if she was in danger, yet he attacked them. What if she had been killed?

“Cat. You’re alive.” Littlefinger’s eyes flashed to Bolton whose face betrayed nothing. “I had no
idea. I would speak with you…”

Catelyn interrupted Petyr before he could finish. “We are speaking, though I would rather not. By
betraying Ned, you betrayed me. By moving against my daughter’s protectors, you moved against
me.”

Realization flashed in Littlefinger’s eyes as his mouth gaped. He collected himself and continued.
“I don’t know what you’ve heard, but I have only ever meant to aid you.”

“By moving against my sworn sword? By endangering my daughters. I know you have Arya here.
You sold her to these monsters.”

Shock spread across Littlefinger’s features as he narrowed his eyes at Roose. For his part, Roose’s
brows only furrowed slightly. His head tilted in consideration.

“Cat, please. Let me explain. I only sought to see a Stark at Winterfell, just as you would have
wanted. I meant only to take Sansa to safety with me and Lysa.”

Then Roose spoke for the first time. “Offer your terms, Kingslayer. Lady Stark. I can’t promise
that I’ll consider them, but you may speak them.”

Jaime spoke firmly at Catelyn’s side. “Die. Those are my terms. Do you accept?”

With a huff of annoyance, Roose held Jaime’s eyes. “Here are my terms. I take your head. Your
armies can return home intact. Lady Stark, I will allow you to stay for the wedding of your
daughter to my son and heir, Ramsay Bolton.”

Roose extended an arm back towards the young man who Catelyn had not recognized. A vicious
smirk tugged at Ramsay’s features. After taking pause, Roose continued.

“I’ll even allow you to sit next to your sworn sword who you seem rather attached to. I can’t
comment on the state of her person for the blessed event. Locke, how is our guest doing?”

With a sneer, Locke pushed back his cape, revealing Oathkeeper at his hip. “She gave me her
sword. I gave her my sword.”

Catelyn felt her pulse quicken and fury course through her. She looked to Jaime and prayed to the
gods he did not abandon their plan in a fit of rage. Jaime’s eyes were locked on Oathkeeper. His
eyes flashed with unbridled rage and his jaw clenched impossibly tighter.

With a knowing smirk, Roose gave his command to Ramsay and Locke. “Go retrieve Lady
Brienne. I do believe she wished to take a stroll along the battlements.”

At Roose’s order, Ramsay and Locke retreated towards the castle, leaving only Roose and
Littlefinger.

“I’m afraid we won’t come to terms. We’ll see you on the battlefield.” As Roose spoke,
Littlefinger hesitantly turned his horse to ride back towards the castle. His eyes remained fixed on
Catelyn as he rode.

Roose turned his horse around after taking a final glance at Jaime. Then Jaime called out to him.

“Lord Bolton!”

Glancing over his shoulder, Roose met Jaime’s eyes and Catelyn held her breath.

“Forgive me, I’ve always been told that I’m the stupidest Lannister. Does this mean our effort to
treat is over with?”

The horses stomped under their hooves as a heavy silence fell over them. Roose sneered before
replying.

“I would say it is, unless of course you mean to offer your head?”

With a cutting smile, Jaime shook his head. “No, I think not. I just wanted to ensure that I didn’t
violate your rights afforded to treating parties.”

Roose’s brows furrowed slightly at Jaime’s words. Before he could reply, the Bolton guards lining
the left and right side of the battlefield pointed their bows at Roose’s head and let their arrows
 loose.

A dozen arrows hit their mark; direct shots to Bolton’s head and neck. It was a proper archery
showing that would make Brienne proud of her men.

Arrows pushed through Roose’s skull with one passing straight through his eye socket. Roose fell
from his horse and Jaime smirked at the sight.

“The Lannisters send their regards.”

Chapter End Notes

Just a reminder that Brienne was not harmed by Locke (he is trying to frazzle Jaime). I
don't want anyone upset by that. BAMF Brienne is busy in the crypts getting to
Rickon.
 "You’re a terrible influence"
Chapter Summary

The battle begins and Jaime has his eyes locked on one person.

Jaime stared down at Roose’s lifeless body. Then his eyes lifted to meet Locke in the distance.
Locke, Ramsay, and Baelish had all taken pause not far from the front lines of Roose’s men. Shock
was writ across their faces as their eyes moved from Roose’s crumpled form to Jaime’s smirking
face.

The Tarth archers moved quickly towards the army at Jaime’s back. The night prior, Jaime sent
them out with their orders. Kill the guards, don their armor and helms, and aim true.

The first stage of battle had already gone the way Jaime wanted. They had killed the head of the
enemy’s command. Baelish was not a military leader, and Jaime expected that he would likely turn
to one of Bolton’s men; presumably Roose’s bastard or Locke.

It would be chaos. Knowing the type of man Locke was, and by association, Ramsay likely was,
Jaime expected the enemy would charge out in a blind rage.

And they did.

At the sight of Roose’s arrow-riddled body, Ramsay screamed for the entirety of their army to
charge ahead. The cavalry moved out first, followed closely by the foot soldiers. Shouting to the
additional forces in the castle, Ramsay’s orders would take away their advantage of holding the
castle to meet Jaime’s men head on.

“Lady Stark. Time to go now.”

Without looking at Catelyn, Jaime could feel her eyes on him. She turned her horse and raced back
behind the lines and towards the agreed upon location. Catelyn would serve as the signal to
Stannis’ men. The group of sellswords stood at a distance where Brynden indicated Bolton’s
lookouts could not see them from the battlements.

As the gates to Winterfell opened and the rest of the Vale and Northern soldiers poured out,
Ramsay and Locke held back to direct the various contingents. Even from the distance, Jaime
could see the panic on Littlefinger’s face. He had not anticipated moving against Catelyn.

Call them off, Baelish.

Frantically looking around, Littlefinger rode hard towards a knight from the Vale. Speaking
urgently, Jaime smirked as he knew what was to come. At Baelish’s words, the knight commanded
the Vale to stand down. Soldiers who had not yet entered the sea of Northern soldiers rushing
forward, stopped in their tracks.

A knowing smile tugged at Jaime’s lips. “Addam. Give the signal.”

At Jaime’s side, Addam yelled back to the Tarth archers. “Nock!” A moment’s pause and then
Jaime heard the next command. “Loose!”
A sea of fiery arrows flew into the sky. It would serve two purposes. First, it would give the
lookouts of Brynden’s contingent the signal they needed. A sea of blazing arrows kissed the sky
before taking out enemy soldiers.

Second, it would reduce the enemy’s numbers. The only thing that Jaime had been uncertain of in
his plan, was how reckless Bolton’s men would be when their lord fell. Jaime assumed that either
all or part of Bolton’s men would charge ahead hasilty.

The plan was simple. Brynden’s contingent would lay siege to the castle and remove any
remaining opposition. They would then take position atop the battlements to continue their assault
on the enemy below.

At his side, Addam spoke urgently. “You need to fall back. They’ll be on us in a moment.”

“No.”

Jaime had yet to take his eyes off Locke. His primary target had remained at the rear of the lines
with Ramsay.

Coward.

Jaime wrapped the reins around his false hand to keep him securely in place. Spurring his horse
forward, Jaime unsheathed his sword. He would kill every last man in his path to Locke. His path
to Brienne. At his back, Jaime could hear Addam screaming at Jaime to stop.

Then he heard the call of the commanders at his back, urging the men forward and into battle. It
was the last sound he heard before his sword began clashing with enemy steel. Jaime didn’t make it
far through the sea of mounted Northerners before his horse’s legs were sliced through.

Sensing the animal’s looming fall, Jaime unwrapped his arm from the reins leapt from the destrier.
When he hit the ground, Jaime found himself the target for thousands of foot soldiers. His blade
swung wildly as he tried to keep his sense of direction.

A wall of black and grey dotted with red of the Bolton sigil stretched as far as the eye could see.
Before the battle began, he estimated roughly 3,000 Bolton men outside the gates and as many
knights of the Vale.

More had poured out from the gates at Ramsay’s command. A total over just over 10,000 had been
prepared to enter the fray before Littlefinger realized who his men moved against.

It wasn’t long before Jaime began to see crimson and gold at his side. The sight of his men was the
only way that Jaime knew which direction he was facing. A sea of humanity was closing in on him
and obscuring his view of the castle.

Kill Locke. Find Brienne.

The thought of Brienne chained, dying, or dead in some shit cell at Winterfell drove Jaime forward.
The thought of Locke’s hands on her body pushed him to the point of madness.

Blades stabbed at Jaime from all angles. He moved as he would have half a lifetime ago. Jaime’s
fluidity with the blade was never at the level of Barristan Selmy nor was the strength with his cuts
as strong as the Mountain, but Jaime was fast. It was his speed and instinct that set him apart.

When Jaime fought, it was as though he could feel his missing sword hand itching to stab at the
enemy. A strange sensation gnawed at Jaime while he fought. It was as though the limb was still
there. The pulse against his wrist’s scar tissues was nearly unbearable. On instinct, Jaime’s false
hand came up protectively from at several points. It seemed to be the only thing the hunk of metal
was good for; a small shield.

Jaime’s sword moved quickly in smooth cuts from left to right. Any man coming within a few feet
of him wouldn’t stand a chance. Jaime was a man possessed with only one goal in mind.

Jaime’s men surged forward at his back. The battlefield seemed to be closing in on them. The
Boltons fought to their numbers. They kept tight formation and used the man in front of them as a
human shield.

It was a logical approach that Jaime had not anticipated from their ranks. Fighting alongside the
Bolton men were various sigils of northern vassals. They did not fight with a passion for their
cause, but rather a desperate need to survive. It seemed they wanted to be there as much as
Littlefinger did.

In the distance, Jaime could hear the battle cry of Brynden’s contingent. Jaime sent Bronn to help
command the men from the West. While indecent off the battlefield, Bronn was one of the best at
his craft. He had an instinct for survival, and he saw threats better than most.

As Jaime’s men began to push the Northerners back, Brynden’s men engaged those at the gates
and atop the battlements. As the sea of humanity backed up just within range of Winterfell’s
archers, the remaining Northerners took advantage.

It was something else that Jaime had not expected. He assumed that Bolton’s archers would only
fire when their men were clear of friendly arrows. Instead, it seemed the Bolton archers cared little
for their own, if it meant taking out the enemy. Bolton arrows began to dot the sky and take aim at
anyone below.

Jaime could feel the battlefield constrict further as the left edge collapsed. The pressure at his left
side told Jaime that Stannis’ men had arrived from the northwest. Continuing his surge forward,
Jaime heard an arrow go whizzing by his head. He strained to see over the bodies of soldiers
swinging at him.

Distantly, Jaime could see Littlefinger’s men beginning to flee south and away from battle. Men
from Brynden’s contingent were slowly gaining control inside the castle as less arrows made their
way into the battle.

Then Jaime saw them. The Bolton commanders including Locke and Ramsay were trapped
between the primary fighting and Byrnden’s group. Unable to move, they stood frozen in place.
The field was closing in around them.

With everything he had, Jaime tried to push forward. It was the most suffocating feeling of Jaime’s
life. His men were trained to spread the field and use the advantage of their skill with swords and
spears.

They were well trained with weaponry, but fighting in close quarters was not a core competency of
the West. It was beginning to show.

The enemy was closing in faster than Jaime could cut through them. With less room to swing his
sword, Jaime began to feel the air leaving his lungs as his arms pressed close to his sides. He could
hear the grunts and complaints of his men just behind him.

Enemy arms began reaching out as blades would, grabbing at Jaime’s body in attempt to stop his
wild swings. More arrows dotted the sky from a higher section of the battlements that Brynden’s
men had not yet reached.

It was when Jaime looked to the sky to gasp for air that he saw the threat. Putting up his maimed
arm to shield his head, Jaime braced for impact. He was unable to duck or move without feeling
the press of the enemy against him.

An arrow grazed Jaime’s left arm as two opposing soldiers fell before him. Each had taken arrows
to the skull; killing them on contact. The temporary reprieve from a crowded battlefield gave Jaime
opportunity to see through the pack. He was getting close to the rear of the lines.

Distantly, Jaime could hear Addam shouting orders at the men to push forward harder and faster. It
was the one part of the plan that Jaime had abandoned. He was meant to be at the rear of the lines.
Brynden had scolding as they mapped out plans.

‘You can’t command your men if you behave as a foot soldier.’

Jaime feigned agreement at the time. He knew that nothing would stop him from getting to
Brienne. Being at the rear meant putting Brienne’s life in someone else’s hands. He wanted her. He
would go and get her.

Before Jaime saw the threat, he felt it. A spear to the left thigh brought Jaime to his knee. The man
yanked it from Jaime’s leg and prepared to thrust it into Jaime’s chest. All Jaime could see was
Brienne.

The wound sent a sharp reminder of Brienne’s dagger to his thigh in the Riverlands. At the
memory, Jaime thought of Brienne. He thought of Brienne in a bear pit at Harrenhal. He thought of
Brienne fighting Locke’s men to avoid rape.

Rage consumed Jaime as he recalled Locke’s words from before the battle.

‘She gave me her sword. I gave her my sword.’

The thought of Brienne hurt physically or emotionally at the hands of Locke and his men sent
Jaime into a blind rage. Before the man could land the killing blow, Jaime surged upwards and
drove his sword through the man’s chin.

An animalistic rage consumed Jaime. His sword moved faster than he ever had before; felling men
with ease. He couldn’t shake the image of Brienne being tortured or killed. Cutting through the last
of the men blocking his path to Locke, Jaime spotted his target as he emerged from the fray.

Jaime stood heaving, covered in blood and grime. He looked like a man possessed. Striding
forward determinedly, Jaime watched as Locke turned to run towards the castle and unsheathed
Oathkeeper. That was the wrong thing to do.

Taking off into a sprint while his men engaged Ramsay and his commanders, Jaime dove at Locke,
tackling him to the ground. He didn’t want to make it quick. He wanted Locke to hurt.

As Locke hit the ground face first with Jaime on his back, the sound of air leaving Locke’s lungs
reached Jaime’s ears. Oathkeeper dropped from Locke’s hand and landed on the ground beside
them. Grabbing Locke’s shoulder, Jaime rolled Locke to his back so that they were face to face.

“Did you touch her!?”

Without awaiting an answer, Jaime slammed his false hand into Locke’s face. Locke screamed out
at the assault. The contact sent a jolt of pain through Jaime’s wrist, but he was too focused on
Locke to care.

“Did you touch her!?”

Again, Jaime didn’t wait for an answer. Having dropped his own sword, Jaime grabbed the dagger
at his hip and sliced off Locke’s remaining ear. As the man screamed in pain, Jaime pulled Locke
upwards by the jerkin and headbutted him in the face.

Locke’s nose shattered at the impact; the force producing a violent crunching sound.

“Did you touch her!?”

Locke writhed under Jaime and gasped for air. A function of his nose shattering and pain from the
blows, Locke’s eyes filled with tears which began to spill down the side of his head.

Dragging the dagger from the inside of Locke’s mouth to his ear, Jaime sliced open the right side
of the man’s face.

“Did you touch Brienne!?”

Unlike the prior questioning, Jaime’s voice broke at use of Brienne’s name. Hitting Locke again
with his false hand, the edges of Jaime’s jerkin rolled up and exposed his wrist. Before the battle,
Jaime had wrapped Brienne’s necklace around his maimed wrist. The sunlight caught the sapphire
in the necklace and drew Jaime’s eye to it.

Everything around him seemed to go still at the sight. Brienne.

Rage consumed Jaime at the thought of what Locke may have done to her. He began to pummel
Locke with his flesh and golden fist. He screamed repeatedly as he landed blows to the man’s face
and skull.

“Did you touch Brienne!?”

Jaime didn’t know how long he sat astride the miserable shit, bashing his face into an
unrecognizable state, but when Locke slipped from consciousness, Jaime stopped and caught sight
of Oathkeeper. Grabbing the sword, Jaime looked to Locke’s right arm which was motionless at
the side of his head.

Swinging as hard as he could, Jaime cut through Locke’s wrist, severing the hand. The maiming
jolted Locke from unconsciousness. The man gasped and tried to scream, but his face was so badly
beaten that he couldn’t do anything more than make desperate gurgling sounds.

With a final slice to Locke’s throat, Jaime closed his eyes as the emotional pain washed over him.
His mind conjured the image of Brienne’s smiling face as she stared up at him in the fields below
the night sky.

“Jaime.”

Brienne.

Opening his eyes as he gasped for air, Jaime looked towards the Winterfell gates. Brienne stood
several feet away with a bloody sword in her hand. At her back was Jon Snow, Theon Greyjoy, and
Catelyn Stark. The Stark matriarch was crying and holding Rickon and Arya.
The battle was over. A stunned silence hung heavy over the field as the men looked to the battered
body of Locke beneath Jaime. All Jaime could see was Brienne.

As their eyes met, strangled sobs took hold of Jaime’s body. Brienne dropped her sword and
quickly closed the distance between them; dropping to her knees to meet Jaime on the ground.

Reaching out and embracing her tightly, Jaime sobbed into Brienne’s neck. He clung to her as
though she was a mirage who would disappear if he let go.

Everything around them seemed to fade away. Brienne rubbed soothing circles into Jaime’s back
as his breathing calmed and tears ceased. Pulling back his head just enough to see her eyes, Jaime
pressed his forehead against Brienne’s.

“I love you. I was so scared. Did they hurt you? Did they touch you?”

Keeping their foreheads pressed close, Brienne shook her head in denial. “No. No one touched
me.”

An immense relief washed over Jaime as his hand moved to cup her cheek. Tear tracks lined his
face as he looked into her eyes. “You’re alright then?”

Brienne huffed a small laugh and nodded in affirmation. “Yes. I didn’t even get a chance to enter
the fray.”

At her words, Jaime’s brows furrowed slightly. “You had a sword covered in blood.”

Brienne smirked slightly as her eyes darted towards Jon. She spoke in hushed tones when her eyes
returned to Jaime. “Stannis. The blade slipped. You’re a terrible influence.”
 “Only yours”
Chapter Summary

Brienne reflects on things after the battle.

Chapter Notes

A short, quiet chapter before more plot.

Maester Luwin finished stitching Jaime’s thigh as Jaime held Brienne’s arm firm to his chest. His
thumb rubbed back and forth across her knuckles as though Brienne was the one in need of
comfort.

Glancing to his thigh, Brienne winced. The spear had sunk deep and left a wider gash than her
dagger had. Jaime sat in his smallclothes with his filthy breeches pushed down to allow Luwin
access to the wound.

The maester seemed a kind man with a patient disposition, and a lifetime worth of knowledge.
They hadn’t much time to speak in the crypts, but Brienne could tell by the way he cared for little
Rickon that the man had a kind soul.

Brienne sat with her side pressed close against Jaime despite the maester’s insistence that she leave
during treatment.

‘No. If she leaves, I’m leaving.’ Jaime had sulked like a petulant child in the maester’s room while
the two maesters tended to the injured soldiers.

Lord Bolton had brought his own maester from the Dreadfort thinking Luwin dead or gone. He
seemed a touch sterner than Luwin, but equally skilled. The room they sat in was large enough to
treat a few soldiers at once, and it was filled with enough medicine to cure any ailment one might
suffer from.

Both maesters moved quickly; their line of patients stretching far down the dimly lit corridor of
Winterfell. Brienne thought back on the final moments before emerging from the crypts.

When Brienne first arrived at the crypts with Theon and Arya, she had been surprised to see
Rickon sleeping peacefully on the old maester’s lap.

They didn’t have much time so speak before Arya began leading them through the winding, dark
passageways under Winterfell. In the distance, they heard approaching soldiers. They moved
quickly around a concealed corner behind one of many ancient tombs.

It wasn’t long before Arya jumped out excitedly as her eyes landed on Jon. Brienne gasped at the
sea of soldiers at his back. The tunnels were long and narrow, but all she could see were hundreds
of eyes peering out from the darkness.
Jon insisted on taking the soldiers ahead to give aid to Brynden’s contingent in the courtyard.
Agreeing to protect Arya and Rickon inside the crypts, Brienne watched as the forces moved by
quickly. She was shocked to see Stannis at the rear of the group.

“You!” Brienne felt her hand tighten around the hilt of her blade. The older Baratheon brother
turned to face her fully; his eyes narrowing in the darkened space.

“You killed Renly. A shadow with your likeness.” At Brienne’s words, Stannis’ eyes flashed with
something deadly. His eyes darted back down the passageway to ensure the men had moved far
enough away. In a slow movement, Stannis unsheathed his sword.

“What of it? I am the rightful heir to the Iron Throne. My brother had no right to it.” Stannis’ voice
dripped with disdain as he held Brienne’s eyes.

Disgust coursed through her body as she appraised the older Baratheon brother.

Kinslayer.

“You killed your own brother for a crown.”

With a bitter laugh, Stannis leaned in towards Brienne and spoke through clenched teeth. “I’ve had
to sacrifice more than my shit brother for that crown. It’s mine. The Lord of Light will see it done.
Do you mean to stand in my way?”

Stannis eyes darted to Brienne’s sword which hung at her side. Her grip tightened again as her
wrist rolled slightly.

“Yes.”

At Brienne’s words, a storm befitting the weather of kingdom flickered across his face. He swung
his sword aggressively at Brienne’s head, but she ducked before meeting the blade. As his sword
met the tunnel wall, the steel pinged loudly and echoed throughout the passageway.

“Theon! Get the children back!” Brienne shouted back to Theon as she raised her blade and began
to exchange strikes with Stannis. The narrow hallway limited her movement and follow through,
restricting Brienne’s typical fighting style.

As they moved backwards and away from Theon’s torchlight, Brienne strained to see the outline of
Stannis stomping towards her. Memories of his shadowed figure played out in her mind and urged
her forward.

I’ll do my duty for Renly.

With a series of quick movements, Brienne had sliced across Stannis’ leg and gut. With a grunt of
pain, Stannis dropped to a knee. He clutched at his middle and looked up at her with a fiery
determination. Surging forward, Stannis swung wildly at Brienne, but she was too fast and too
strong.

Dodging one of Stannis’ blows, Brienne thrust her sword upwards into his chest. At the impact,
Stannis’ eyes went wide in shock. His eyes glanced down to the blade in his chest as Brienne
stepped backwards and yanked it out.

A sense of peace washed over Brienne as she watched the man collapse to the passageway floor.
The memory of Renly danced in her mind as she turned back to retrieve the Stark children, Theon,
and Maester Luwin.
Now as Brienne sat in the room beside Jaime, she smiled inwardly. What she felt for Renly paled
in comparison to her love for Jaime. She understood the difference now; a childhood crush
compared to a woman’s love.

When Jaime was stitched properly and the wound wrapped, he slid from the table and yanked up
his breeches. A wide smile stretched across his face when their eyes met.

Jaime japed to Maester Luwin as the man provided cleaning instructions for the wound. “I’ve
learned to tolerate this type of pain. A rude swordswench threw a dagger into my thigh not even a
year ago.”

With a playful grin, Jaime tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. They left the room with
Jaime’s arm slung over Brienne’s shoulder as he leaned against her for support. Once the
adrenaline of battle had worn off, the pain had hit him. He also had a small wound to his arm
where an arrow grazed him.

As they moved slowly from the room, Brienne appraised the line of wounded soldiers waiting to
be seen. It appeared to have gotten longer since they first arrived.

Catelyn had seen to it that Jaime was among the first treated. She had the staff prepare rooms for
each of them in the family wing of the castle. Fresh baths had been readied for them once Maester
Luwin finished treating Jaime’s wounds.

Jaime’s body was covered in mud and blood. He looked to have marched through the Seven Hells
and back again. For her part, Brienne felt more hungry than dirty. Still, she was pleased for a bath.

When they arrived at the room Jaime had been assigned, she helped him remove his jerkin and
tunic to avoid causing further strain to his injured arm. The fabric dropped to the floor with a heavy
thud. A small pile of the most Lannister looking clothing lay folded neatly on his bed; a clear
indication that the West had sent up clean clothing for him, and likely the other commanders.

As Brienne began to remove Jaime’s false hand, she noticed her mother’s necklace wrapped around
his wrist. A small gasp pushed past her lips.

I thought I had lost it. Another failure against my House.

“You found it.”

Jaime’s eyes followed Brienne’s gaze. As he looked at the necklace, Jaime smiled.

“It reminds me of you. A little motivation.” The fingers of his left hand began to work at the
chain’s clasp before unraveling it and handing it to Brienne.

“Thank you. I thought I lost it forever.” Brienne stared at the necklace before moving to tuck it
back into her pocket. Stilling her hand, Jaime shook his head.

“I told you to wear it. You’ll lose it again.” Prying open her hand, Jaime took the chain and moved
to put it around her neck. The thought of wearing something so beautiful and delicate felt
undeserved. Brienne shook her head and blocked the chain.

“No, I shouldn’t. When I see my father next, I intend to return it.”

Without responding, Jaime wrapped his maimed arm around her waist, tugging Brienne close. His
lips pressed warm and gentle to hers. It was a sensation that Brienne feared never feeling again
when she stood fighting for her life in the clearing.
As their lips parted, Jaime’s maimed arm moved higher up towards her neck. It was then that she
noticed Jaime was using the maimed arm to hold one end of the chain in place as the fingers of his
left hand worked at the clasp.

Satisfied with himself, Jaime stepped back smugly as the necklace hung delicately from her neck.
“Much better. Although I had the right of it. Your eyes are much prettier.”

Brienne began to protest, but she stopped when her eyes darted to his maimed arm. She had been
so distracted by the necklace that she hardly noticed all the blood after unstrapping the prosthetic.

“What did you do!? Gods, Jaime. You’re bleeding.”

Grabbing his wrist, Brienne inspected the delicate tissue. It was angry and bleeding. The mix of dry
and fresh blood indicated he had been using it in battle. Grabbing a clean clothing from the bath,
Brienne wet it and began to wash the area. A slight hiss pushed past Jaime’s lips as she worked to
clean the area.

Locke. I saw him beating Locke with it.

“I might have used it a bit. That miserable shit said some unsavory things that upset me.”

Brienne watched as Jaime’s face turned down slightly at the memory of words spoken before
battle. She could hardly imagine what would have prompted Jaime to act so violently, but Brienne
could see the pain on his face from the memory.

As she finished cleaning the area, Brienne placed a gentle kiss to his scarred wrist and wrapped her
arms around him. She could feel Jaime take a deep breath against her body as his head nuzzled into
her neck. His voice vibrated against her chest as he spoke.

“Will you come back after your bath? I just want to hold my wench.”

At Jaime’s request, Brienne smiled and nodded her head in agreement. “Yes. Do you need help?”

“Well I prefer our shared baths, but Lady Catelyn would have my balls if I tried that.”

Brienne snorted and released her grip around his shoulders. The atmosphere in the room shifted
slightly as Jaime pulled her back into a deep kiss. His face was caked in the remnants of battle, but
Brienne cared little. The sensation of his lips pressed against hers overwhelmed her senses and
masked the gore coating his skin.

When Jaime broke the kiss, he whispered against her lips. “Please come back quickly or I’ll have
no option but to roam the halls naked and looking for you in your bath. Bad habit I suppose.”

Brienne glanced towards the window and noticed the hour. It was just past midday and she wished
to have some time with Jaime alone before supper. On the way to her room, Brienne heard the staff
shouting orders to one another.

Lady Stark wanted the commanders and nobles afforded rooms so that they had ample time to
bathe and relax before supper. On such short notice, it was unlikely the meal would be a proper
feast, but Catelyn wanted the soldiers well fed.

Brienne made her way just a few doors down to her own. She had been placed beside Sansa’s
room; a surprising assignment given she was not kin.

When Brienne walked into the room, she was astonished to see clean clothing set out for her.
Brienne prayed to the Seven the clothing wasn’t ill-fitted for a woman of her size.

Memories of oversized tunics or too-short breeches flashed through her mind. Finding appropriate
clothing was always a challenge. Her mannish height combined with feminine curves always made
attire fall awkwardly on her body.

The warm water of the bath was a welcome sensation as Brienne tilted back her head to rest on the
edge of the tub. She could have fallen asleep like that, but the desire to see Jaime outweighed her
own comfort.

Brienne’s mind wandered as she thought on the end of the battle. Ramsay Bolton had been
captured and placed in a cell. The men spoke of Littlefinger’s retreat from battle with most of his
army just before the fighting began.

Ser Brent had approached Brienne in the moments following the battle’s conclusion. It had taken
some time for Jaime to collect himself and pull back from their embrace on the battlefield. The mix
of relief and anguish on his face would remain etched in her memory forever.

At the opportunity, Ser Brent had crouched down beside them. “My lady, are you alright?”

Nodding wordlessly, Brienne smiled. She took a deep breath and met Brent’s eyes. “Yes, I’m fine.
I was not long in a cell before you all arrived.”

A sigh of relief escaped Ser Brent’s lips. He called back to the Tarth contingent who stood just to
the side, looking on in worry. “Our future Evenstar is fine boys! We’ll be well protected for
another generation!”

Brent turned back to Brienne with a knowing smile. “That was some showing in the clearing, my
lady. Your father will be most impressed to hear of the tale. Gal would have been proud.”

It was the first time anyone had mentioned Galladon since his death. She often wondered how life
would be if he were still alive.

After stepping out from the bath and drying off, Brienne hastily put on the clean clothing. The grey
breeches were well-fitted and surprisingly of length. The cream-colored tunic was a bit narrow
through the shoulders and tight in the chest, but she could make do.

Making her way towards Jaime’s room, Brienne knocked lightly and waited for his answer. When
none came, she began to move back towards her room.

Mayhap he fell asleep or had something to tend to.

As her hand came to the handle of her door, Brienne heard Jaime’s voice call out to her. She turned
to see him hobbling towards her. In his hand was Oathkeeper and her sword belt.

A small smile tugged at Brienne’s lip. She stepped away from her door and met Jaime halfway.
Jaime met her eyes with a triumphant smile.

“This is yours. Only yours.”

 "Winter Is Coming"
Chapter Summary

Catelyn speaks with various people after the battle. She considers what stands before
them.

Catelyn sat in her room with Sansa, Arya, and Rickon crowding her bed. She refused to release her
hold on Arya and Rickon after the battle ended. A group of soldiers were sent back to the
encampment to retrieve Tyrion, Sansa, and Genna. The older woman would need a proper bed to
aid her recovery.

Catelyn ensured rooms were arranged for as many as could fit in Winterfell. The rest of the army
would setup outside the castle. Thinking back on the past moon turns, Catelyn could hardly believe
the turn of events.

Three of my children are back in my arms. I had feared Arya and Rickon lost to me.

Looking down at Rickon, Catelyn stroked the young boy’s head lovingly. “Did he say why he went
north of the wall?”

Rickon looked up at her and shook his head. “No. Theon begged him not to, but Bran said he had
to. Hodor and Osha took him.”

Rickon had told Catelyn of their ordeal at Winterfell. When Theon took control of the castle, he
tried to force his claim on the North. The young Greyjoy let rumors of the boys’ demise spread, but
Theon kept them in a room with Maester Luwin. Theon meant to prove to his father that he wasn’t
weak. That he was a Greyjoy; not a Stark.

Luwin had pleaded with Theon to stop the madness. Guilt had weighed heavy on Theon after he
killed Ser Rodrik. He had threatened to kill the boys at a point too, but he couldn’t follow through
with it.

Then Ramsay arrived. At first, Theon assumed Robb had sent House Bolton to remove the
Ironborn. Theon was shocked to Bolton’s men killing Ironborn and Northmen alike. Secreting the
boys to the crypts, Theon lied that he had killed Bran and Rickon when he sieged the castle. The
Northerners who remained had not seen the boys in weeks and assumed it true.

According to Maester Luwin, Theon continued to make secret trips to the crypt under the cover of
night. He brought food, water, and word of what he heard. Some visits were days apart, and it was
obvious that Theon was being tortured. He had been given the moniker ‘Reek’ and pretended at
bending to Ramsay.

Luwin was determined to get the boys to safety, but rumors swirled of rebel armies marching north
against House Bolton. Deciding it was safer to stay put, Luwin did what he could to keep spirits up.

Catelyn heard the full extent of what had been done to Theon and it horrified her. The young man
was beaten and maimed; never to bear children of his own.

How did he stay so strong for my sons? Why did he lie for them? It would have been easier to give
them up in exchange for his freedom and safety.

It was all so much to take in. Catelyn had not trusted House Greyjoy just as she had never thought
to offer affection to Jon.

They fought for my children as Jaime and Brienne have. I owe them all.

When it was time to take supper, Catelyn brought her children to the hall. She ensured they were
well-fed before leaving the table to speak with the various commanders. It seemed impossible to
express how thankful she was for their efforts.

Outside the castle, the staff setup soup line for the soldiers. Early reports indicated that most of
their combined forces survived. Fortunately, Stannis’ forces were none the wiser for the true
reason behind their contractor’s death.

Catelyn had asked Brienne of the events not long after the battle. A degree of unease had set in
when Catelyn approached the senior most sellsword among Stannis’ men.

‘I care not. Our contract is done. That cunt murdered his own daughter the other day. He went
mad when the bastard returned saying half his forces were gone. He thought the battle a lost cause
with only Tully rebels and a broken Stormlands contingent to join them. That priestess of his said
the sacrifice would ensure his victory. Some shit about a king’s blood.’

Catelyn felt ill at the thought.

What kind of man murders his own daughter!? Gods, did I unknowingly trade the girl’s life to keep
Jaime’s presence a secret?

When Catelyn was unable to find Jaime and Brienne at supper, she went seeking them out. It had
hardly surprised Catelyn that both were missing as she knew they were likely together. Still,
Catelyn wanted to ensure they ate to regain their strength.

Jaime had been injured and barely ate during the days following Brienne’s capture. It was evident
that Brienne had not been fed while under Locke’s captivity. Her face was paler than usual despite
a strong resolve in her eyes.

Yet again, Brienne had watched over Catelyn’s children. She protected Arya and Rickon until help
arrived, just as she protected Sansa in the clearing.

Arriving at Brienne’s room, Catelyn found it empty. The darkened bath water and soiled clothing
told Catelyn that the young woman had at least bathed.

Moving to Jaime’s room, Catelyn quietly pushed open the door. Her eyes landed on two figures
asleep on the bed. Their limbs were intwined as the fire dwindled.

A slight chill was in the air as Catelyn crept forward to appraise them. It appeared they fell asleep
after laying down for a moment’s peace.

Thank the gods he at least bathed. He was a frightening sight to behold on the battlefield.

Catelyn had seen Jaime’s grief-stricken rage against Locke. She tucked her children’s heads into
her chest to shield them from his brutal assault on the man. It hardly surprised Catelyn to find the
pair asleep in one another’s arms.

Putting a log on the fire, Catelyn covered them with furs. Improper as it ordinarily would be,
Catelyn knew that they needed the rest and comfort. Both had been through an incredible ordeal in
their effort to aid Catelyn’s cause.

No one with a heart could deprive them of this. On the morrow I’ll ensure that Jaime maintains
propriety.

Moving from the room, Catelyn found one of the attendants.

“I need two meals plated. Please bring them to me when and I’ll see them delivered.”

The woman scurried off and Catelyn waited in the hallway. Her head rested back against the wall
as she wondered what Bran was doing north.

Should I send a group after him? Gods, what a foolish thing to have done.

It wasn’t long before the attendant returned with a tray of food. With a warm smile and nod,
Catelyn took the food into Jaime’s room and set it out on the table. She smiled to herself as she
took a final glance back at them.

They’ll likely wake up in a couple of hours with a terrible hunger.

Stepping into the hallway, Catelyn saw Jon walking slowly towards the hall.

“Jon.”

At her call, Jon spun on his heel. An uncertain expression lined his face. “Yes, my lady.”

Moving towards Jon, Catelyn’s brows furrowed. “Have you eaten?”

“Not yet. I was just taking rest for a bit. Thank you for affording me a room. I’ll be out of the way
soon.”

Guilt wore at Catelyn as she appraised the young man. She wondered what had happened to him at
the Wall and where he planned to go.

“Where will you go after this?”

Jon shrugged. “I’m not certain. I can’t go back north. I’m a deserter. Were it not for Stannis taking
me with him, they likely would have come for my head. They had just named me Lord
Commander and I failed them. I suppose I’ll find a village somewhere that has work for me.”

“No. Stay here. This is your home too. Ned would have wanted it.”

Jon’s face betrayed his shock at Catelyn’s words. He stammered in reply.

“I couldn’t. I don’t belong here.”

“You do. I appreciate what you’ve done for my children. You gave them aid when I gave you no
reason to. You are their half-brother. There is much that I wish to discuss with you, but for now I
would ask that you stay.”

Jon smiled and nodded. “I would like that. Thank you.”

They walked together towards the dining hall and Jon spoke of frightening things north of the
Wall. Catelyn struggled to understand what he spoke of, but Jon was adamant that a threat was
moving against them all.
The laughter and voices of celebrating soldiers filled the castle as they neared the dining hall. It
was a strange sight and sound to behold. Lions, wolves, fish, and stars.

We have four kingdoms together. Cersei has enraged Dorne and Littlefinger’s forces are now
scattered to regroup at the Vale. My sister will likely remain neutral in any war to come. How can I
help Jaime keep Tommen safe? Will the West willingly see Cersei removed? She only has the
Reach to back her now.

Catelyn knew that Jaime and Tyrion had taken a bold stance against the crown. She knew the West
had answered their call, but it was a fragile, new alliance. Jaime had been clear that he lacked
desire to move against the crown. Against his sister. He only wanted Tommen safe.

Keeping Tommen safe may mean moving against the crown. The Hand rules and Cersei is hand.

Catelyn spent the rest of her night with her children and Jon. She also spoke briefly with Theon.
The ordeal the young man had been through tore at her heart. Conflicting emotions were at war in
Catelyn’s heart.

She felt indebted to Theon for keeping the boys safe at risk of himself, but Catelyn was also angry
at his initial betrayal. She felt sympathy for what had happened to him. He didn’t deserve that
cruelty; no one did.

Ramsay will be his to execute. I owe Theon at least that much for keeping the boys safe.

The next day, Catelyn visited with Genna to see how she was faring. Stepping into the room,
Catelyn was surprised to see Tyrion sitting at Genna’s bedside. They waved her in as Tyrion
finished giving Genna updates on the West’s numbers.

Walking to the window, Catelyn looked down into the courtyard. She could see Brienne’s bright,
blonde hair shining brightly in the early morning sun. A small group of men including Jaime and
Brent were with her. They seemed to be drilling, but Brienne was correcting the men’s form.

A small smile spread across Catelyn’s face at the sight. They had fully accepted Brienne and
respected her skill enough to take critique from her.

Catelyn caught the end of the conversation between Tyrion and Genna. “He’ll need you, Tyrion.
Jaime hasn’t the mind for politics and scheming. He’s a knight and his lady is a knight. I need you
at the Rock with them. Gods only know how long I have in this world. I can’t protect them
forever.”

“Of course, I will. Whatever they need. He would be doing me the favor truly. I have nowhere else
to go. I don’t believe my sweet sister will be offering me a new role on the small council.”

Genna snorted and shook her head. “All she’ll be offering any of us is a golden spike for our heads.
Listen to me Tyrion, your brother might have no desire to march against the crown, but the crown
will come for him. They’ll come for Brienne. The moment he steps foot in the Rock, Cersei will
send her forces after him. It’s going to break his heart. That is still his twin. His heart may be
Brienne’s, but that won’t stop Cersei’s betrayal from hurting.”

A chill went down Catelyn’s spine. The thought of Jaime and Brienne being in harm’s way worried
her. She recalled her thoughts from the night prior.

When Tyrion left, Catelyn walked towards the bed and took the seat he had been occupying. “How
is the pain today?”
Genna chuckled and looked to the ceiling. “The maesters have been poking and prodding at me
since I arrived. They disagree with my preferred medication method; wine. It seems they fear
infection could set in. The wound is too deep they said.”

The woman tried to make light of the situation, but Catelyn could see the fear in her eyes. Grabbing
Genna’s hand, Catelyn tried to reassure her.

“Maester Luwin has been serving Winterfell for some time. He delivered all my babes. I trust him
implicitly and he will take good care of you. You’ll be chasing after those troublesome nephews of
yours in no time.”

Genna offered a small smile, but it was clear that her worry was not alleviated. “If I die, Emmon
will take my boys to the Twins. Jaime and Tyrion will be alone. I wrote Emmon this morning.
Jaime took it to the rookery for me. I’m curious to know how things are going in the south.”

“I’ll do everything I can to aid Jaime and Tyrion. The North will stand beside them in whatever
comes their way. With Jaime’s marriage to Brienne, that should solidify the West’s alliance with
the Stormlands. There are no Baratheons left to rule and I imagine the Stormlands will continue to
look to Lord Selwyn for direction. My uncle will rally the Riverlands as House Tully regains
control. We’ll keep the West safe as they kept us safe.”

Genna hummed and lifted her head slightly. Her brows knitted as she looked out the window.
“Gods help me. Snow. Now I truly can’t die here. I am meant to die in the sun. A proper sendoff
for an old lioness. This is worse than the dreary Riverlands.”

Looking to the window, Catelyn saw a light snow beginning to fall. She sighed and smiled as
memories of Ned washed over her.

“Winter is coming.”
 "I swear it to you"
Chapter Summary

Genna recovers and the West prepares to move out. Word arrives from the south.

“You are an absolute child, Jaime Lannister!” Catelyn dusted off the snow from her face and
clothing. Ducking behind Brienne, Jaime chuckled and reached down to form another snowball to
hurl at Catelyn’s face.

It was difficult to pack a proper snowball with one hand. His two-handed self would have seen a
dozen snowballs already melting away on Catelyn’s head before she had the chance to scold him.
Instead, Jaime was forced to pack the snow with one hand and roll it against his stomach to ensure
its density.

Jaime continued chuckling to himself as his cold, reddened hand reached down for the fresh snow
coating at his feet.

“Do not use me as a shield!” Brienne tried to move away, but Jaime kept his maimed arm around
her waist as he grabbed at the snow.

“Stop moving, wench! She’s like an angry horse and likely to kick me in the head.”

Jaime could barely contain the amusement in his voice as Catelyn stomped towards him. He could
see the Stark matriarch grabbing fistfuls of snow and balling them quickly, amassing a store of
snowballs in the crook of her arm.

“You picked a snowball fight with the wrong kingdom you insufferable, southern housecat!”
Catelyn was upon them and hurling snowballs at Jaime’s head.

Giving up on his pathetic attempt to quickly form a well packed snowball, Jaime pulled Brienne
harder and tried to user her as a shield.

When Brienne spun away quickly and left him to suffer alone, Jaime dropped to his knees and
covered his head from the assault. Catelyn shoved snow down the back of his tunic and onto his
golden head of hair.

It had been just over a moon turn since the Starks reclaimed Winterfell. Genna nearly succumbed
to infection only a fortnight ago, but she was finally on the mend. Maeater Luwin felt that Genna
would be well enough to leave in a few days.

Jaime, Tyrion, and the West’s army refused to return south until Genna was well enough to travel.
The Tully army had already moved back south at the first sign of snow. Most of the Stormlands
contingent moved south just days after the Tullys. The only group that remained behind with the
west was the group from Tarth.

The men did not want to leave their future Evenstar until she was safely south of the Neck. Brienne
thought it unnecessary, but the men insisted. Jaime was thrilled to see how loyal they had become
to her. It was a much-needed confidence boost for Brienne to see how valued she was by her
people.
Ser Brent said the men would accompany the West to the Crossroads and then return to Tarth. He
wrote Lord Tarth of the decision after Brienne sent word of her betrothal to Jaime. For his part,
Jaime could not wait to leave Winterfell behind.

Jaime hated it. It was too cold, too dreary, and too dark. They had yet to hear from Emmon which
worried Genna immensely. Catelyn hoped that her uncle would send word of any rumors in the
south when he returned home. It was as though the North had been cut off from the rest of the
kingdoms.

Rolling around dramatically in defeat as Catelyn stared down at him, Jaime reached out for
Brienne.

“Wench. You abandoned me in my time of need. This horrid woman assaulted me.”

Brienne snorted and shook her head while appraising the sky above. It was another day of heavy
cloud covering that threatened to dump more snow onto the land below.

“I’m her sworn sword. Not yours. I do believe a snowball left your hand well before one left hers.”

Jaime scoffed and righted himself. Cold, melting snow dripped down his back, sending a chill up
his spine.

“I was helping her! Her face was red with rage and needed some cooling off.”

Before another word could be spoken, Maester Luwin called out to Catelyn from across the
courtyard. With a huff, Catelyn stormed off to speak with the aged maester.

The sound of clashing steel to his right caught Jaime’s attention. He turned to see Jon Snow and
Theon Greyjoy sparring just outside the gates. A swirl of powder kicked up around them as they
moved in circles and their blades came together.

Jaime thought back on Theon’s revenge against Ramsay. It was a terribly gruesome execution that
Cat allowed in secret. The Bolton bastard had been locked away in the bowels of the Keep. Every
day, Theon went down to remove a piece of Ramsay. Every day, the young Ironborn grew bolder
in his amputations.

Ramsay lasted a week. His body a barely recognizable stump.

Turning his attention back to Brienne, Jaime smiled and reached down for more snow. He
chuckled to himself as he tried to pack a decent snowball once more.

As his back straightened and he took aim, a fastmoving snowball flew into Jaime’s face, catching
him off-guard. Wiping the fresh powder from his face, Jaime saw Brienne’s smirking face.

“Don’t. The last time you challenged me to a fight, it didn’t end well.”

Gods I love her.

Putting up his hands in surrender, Jaime moved towards Brienne with a wide smile on his face.
They would soon depart for the West where Jaime would see her made the new Lady of the Rock.

Genna was eager to organize a wedding of their choosing. Brienne’s only request was that her
father be given time to arrive. It was the only reason they had not wed immediately at Winterfell.

I might as well keep snow down my breeches given the struggle to suppress this want.
Pulling Brienne close, Jaime whispered into her ear. “I’m quite hoping to enjoy a different sort of
sparring when we arrive at the Rock.”

With a swift elbow to his side, Brienne rolled her eyes, but he could see the hint of a smile tugging
at her lips.

“I’m cold, wench. Hold me. Lions aren’t meant for the snow. We’re made to laze about in the
sun.”

Before Jaime could tug her inside, he heard Catelyn gasp. His head turned to see shock flood her
features. As both Brienne and Jaime looked to Catelyn, her head slowly looked up from the
missive. Catelyn’s sorrow-filled eyes landed on them and she walked towards them slowly.

Her voice was a whisper on her lips. “Lets go inside.”

A feeling of dread pooled in Jaime’s gut. An array of worries swirled in his mind as he stood
rooted in place.

Gods. Don’t let it be Tommen.

Catelyn folded the missive and tried to encourage them inside, but Jaime only shook his head and
stood staring at her. “What is it? Just tell me now.”

Protesting his request, Catelyn shook her head. “I need to speak with you both in private. Not out
here.”

Jaime felt frustration build, but dutiful Brienne began to move towards the castle. Following her
retreat, Jaime worried at what it could be.

What now? Why inside? How much am I going to rage? Is it from Emmon? Is it from Selwyn?
We’ve not hard back from either.

The castle was eerily quiet as they moved inside. It was just past midday and most had already
taken lunch before resuming their activities outside the castle. The West’s soldiers had taken
shelter from the weather in the Keep or surrounding villages. Catelyn had also sent word to
neighboring holdings such as House Cerwyn seeking shelter for the men while they awaited
Genna’s recovery.

Moving through the castle halls, Catelyn guided them into the study and closed the door behind
them. Jaime could see the worry in her eyes as she turned to face them.

“I’ve received word from the south. Emmon, Lyonel, and Walder are all dead. Poisoned at the
Rock. My uncle returned to Riverrun to find a missive from the West. Your kin, Ser Daven, was
not certain where to send word as our army was on the move, but he heard rumors of my uncle
joining our cause after the demise of House Frey. He said…”

Catelyn took a steadying breath and met Jaime’s eyes. “Dorne fell to the Reach as we believed
would happen. The Reach gathered in King’s Landing for the promised wedding between Cersei
and Loras. House Tyrell gathered at the Sept for the ceremony, but the bride and king never
showed up. Wildfire erupted, killing everyone at the Sept. Daven received word that… Tommen
stepped from the window when he realized what had happened. I’m sorry, Jaime.”

The room seemed to spin as Jaime staggered. He felt Brienne’s hand at his arm, holding him in
place. Distantly Jaime heard Brienne telling him to sit down, but his mind was elsewhere.
She killed the last of them. Tommen. They’re all gone. She did this. She used wildfire. Cersei is
Aerys reborn.

Hands were guiding Jaime backwards and pushing him down into a chair. He felt Catelyn shaking
his shoulders.

“Jaime. Jaime, that isn’t all of it. My uncle wrote of something else.”

What? What else can there be? Cersei ruined everything.

Catelyn’s eyes darted to Brienne. The Stark matriarch righted herself and she grabbed Brienne’s
arm.

“Brienne. Cersei sent the crown’s fleet led by Ser Gregor to Tarth. Your father is dead. It seems by
most reports, much of the island is pillaged.”

Jaime’s eyes went wide, and he looked up at Brienne. Her face was blank, but her body stiffened at
the news. The information slowly washed over her. Jaime could see her brain processing it all as
she nodded mutely.

When Brienne met Catelyn’s eyes, Jaime could see the pain there. “Thank you, my lady. I’m very
sorry about Tommen and your kin, Jaime. I’m just going to get some air, please.”

Without awaiting a response, Brienne moved quickly from the room. Catelyn called out after
Brienne, but it was too late.

As the shock of it all faded away, rage consumed Jaime. He wanted to march down to King’s
Landing and kill Cersei himself.

She was the reason the children were dead. She was the reason Aunt Genna lost everything. She
was the reason Brienne lost everything.

Jaime stared ahead at the crackling fire and spoke numbly. “Can I have the missive?”

Catelyn nodded and handed the folded letter to Jaime.

“Don’t tell my aunt or Tyrion. It should come from me. It’s my fault. I just need to speak with
Brienne first.”

Jaime stood to leave, but Catelyn grabbed his arm. Her voice was resolute when she spoke to him.

“This is not your fault.”

A bitter huff of laughter pushed past Jaime’s lips. “Of course it is. I told her ‘no’.”

Jaime left the room in search of Brienne. He needed to find her and apologize. He needed to right
the wrong as best he could. There was no bringing Selwyn back or restoring the damage done to
Tarth, but he would do whatever it took to make Cersei pay.

The search for Brienne took some time. She was not in her room nor the yards. It wasn’t until
Jaime found Pod that he learned of the direction she went. The godswood.

Jaime approached slowly as he caught sight of Brienne. She was sitting on the snow-covered
ground, facing the weirdwood tree. Its bright, red leaves fluttered in the breeze; a stark contrast to
the dreary landscape around them.
Sitting down beside Brienne, Jaime glanced at her face. Silent tears fell as she stared at the tree.
Without looking, she spoke quietly to him.

“I’m sorry for all you lost, but I hate her. I hate her and I want to kill her myself. Forgive me.”

Jaime shuffled closer so their sides were pressed together. He pulled her close against his body and
sighed into her neck.

“We may need to fight for the honor. I’ll kill her for this. For what she did to your father and
people. For what she did to my aunt’s family. For what she did to the children.”

Brienne sighed. He could feel her head shaking in his arms. “She’s your sister. You’re angry as
you should be, but I can’t ask you to kill her. I’ll go south and face her. Then I’ll go to Tarth I
suppose. I’ll do what I can for the island. Hopefully something remains. If nothing is left… I
suppose I’ll go to Essos. I never much belonged here anyway.”

Jaime straightened and he stared at her. “What? No. What do you mean? Brienne, I won’t regret it.
I’ll take my army south. I’ll move against her. I can’t lose you.”

Brienne sighed and shook her head. “If anything remains of Tarth, I’ll be needed there. I have to do
my duty to the island. You’re the lord of a Great House. You need a lady who doesn’t who has no
such obligation to her own holding. A lady who can live at Casterly Rock with you. A proper
lady.”

“No! Fuck Casterly Rock. I’m not leaving you. I never wanted any of it to begin with. My House
accepted long ago that I wouldn’t inherit when I became a Kingsguard. Tyrion can have it!”

Shaking her head, Brienne looked down. “Your House needs you now. Things have changed. I’m
not worth abandoning your House and the West for.”

“Marry me before we go south. Please. I have more bloody Lannister cousins than I know what to
do with. If Tyrion doesn’t want it, my kin can fight it out for the damn castle. We can rebuild Tarth
together. No matter what remains, we’ll do it to honor your father’s memory. I’m sorry for it all.
This wouldn’t have happened if I didn’t incite Cersei. I should have handled it all better.”

When Brienne didn’t respond, Jaime moved in front of her on his knees and put his forehead
against hers.

“Please, Brienne. I can’t bring your father back, but I can try to right the wrong. I’ll do anything
you want, but I can’t lose you.”

Jaime felt his heart racing as he searched Brienne’s eyes. The pain he saw staring back at him
broke his heart. Pain that his twin caused.

Brienne’s arms moved around his neck and Jaime felt as though he could breathe again. Holding
her close, Jaime considered the path forward.

As long as I have her, it will be alright. We can figure this out.

A light snow fell around them as Jaime held Brienne close. His breeches were soaked through from
where he sat and knelt in the snow. All he cared about was Brienne and keeping her safe. Making
it better. Aside from Tyrion and Genna, Brienne was all he had left.

“I’m so sorry, Brienne. I’ll make it better. I swear it to you.”

 “Lets discuss this wedding”
Chapter Summary

The group in the North decides what action to take.

Jaime gripped Brienne’s hand tightly under the table. Just two days prior, word had arrived of
events in the south. It was a somber day at Winterfell for the West and soldiers from Tarth.
Brienne broke the news to her men as Jaime spoke with Genna and Tyrion.

One of the most difficult things about delivering the news to the soldiers, was not knowing the
status of their families. Ser Brent’s face was awash with panic. He had left behind his wife and
newborn babe to fight at Brienne’s side at Sewlyn’s behest. Now he and the other men may return
to corpses.

Since word arrived, Brienne could not find sleep. She was haunted by visions of her father’s
demise and Tarth’s destruction. Questions swirled in her mind that she was unable to answer.

Where is his body? Was he in much pain? Did he die thinking me a failure? Did he receive my
letter of the betrothal? Did he think it another looming failure? How many live on Tarth? How
bad is the destruction? Will the Stormlands still aid our cause with my father dead?

After pacing the battlements last night, Brienne had wandered to the rookery and wrote to Tarth.
She prayed to the Seven that someone lived and would respond to her missive. She wanted to give
her men some closure.

Since childhood, Brienne had a way with names. She knew most of the men with her; or at least all
those with families. Asking after the kin of the soldiers, Brienne hoped anyone responding could
get word to the village to see who remained.

Now as she sat among the Lannisters and Starks, Brienne listened to the conversation with Jaime to
her right side.

“Clearly we can’t go to the Rock. By the Seven, I will find whoever is under Cersei’s employ and
kill the person responsible.” Genna’s voice broke slightly and her fists balled on the table.

Brienne’s heart broke for the older woman. She lost everything when she stood by her nephews
against the crown. Jaime and Tyrion vowed to care for her just as she cared for them with Joanna
died. Neither nephew would allow their aunt to be left alone or uncared for.

Lannisters stick together. All except Cersei it seems.

From across the table, Catelyn looked to Genna. Jon and Sansa flanked Catelyn as Theon sat
beside Jon. Catelyn had not wanted Arya nor Rickon to hear of what was to come, but the Stark
matriarch felt Sansa was of an age to understand how battle planning and political maneuvers
worked.

“You’ve the right of it. Cersei has someone at the Rock. You won’t be safe there. Stay here, Lady
Genna. You and Tyrion. If our forces fail, you’ll be far enough away to flee to Essos. Mayhap you
could treat with that Targaryen girl. Selfishly, I could use both of your input here. You have a skill
for politics of this sort, and you know the southern Houses better than I.”

Brienne noticed the hopeful glance from Sansa as her eyes darted to Tyrion. For his part, the
younger Lannister perked up at the suggestion; a small smile at his lips. Despite their forced
marriage, the pair had grown close. They had developed a strong friendship, but Brienne wondered
if something more was blossoming.

Genna nodded and met Catelyn’s eyes. “Thank you. I think we may need to take you up on that
offer. Jaime, you should name Daven as Castellan in your absence. He’s loyal and one of the better
remaining Lannisters. While we can’t risk being at the Rock right now, we can’t abandon it either.
Tell him to trust no one!”

Both Lannister brothers agreed with her assessment. It seemed to Brienne that the southern lions
were now northern snowcats. They were trapped in a kingdom that once sought their heads, and
they were cut off from the one place they previously felt safest.

Catelyn spoke again, drawing Brienne’s attention back to lady of Winterfell. “I’ve written my
uncle this morning to call the banners. They’ve always been a slightly scattered kingdom, but the
vassal will answer him. As for the Stormlands, I imagine most of the soldiers are only just
returning home. I doubt they would answer another call so soon.”

Catelyn’s eyes darted to Brienne in sympathy. Brienne’s face fell as realization washed over her.
She wasn’t a leader and she couldn’t command the Stormlands as her father had.

Selwyn had a lifetime of established relationships with the other vassals. They respected him
immensely, but she was just his ugly daughter who failed thrice to make a match.

Tyrion spoke from down the table and broke Brienne from her thoughts. “The Stormlands has
roughly 4,000 men remaining after the last fight. Even if they are too battle-weary to answer the
call, they certainly won’t rally to the crown, nor would their army make a difference. Cersei has
made an enemy of Dorne. I can’t imagine the Reach is blind to her involvement with the
catastrophe at the Sept. She has few allies remaining.”

At her side, Jaime sighed and shook his head. “We have 8,000 remaining after the last battle, but
5,000-7,000 did not join us originally. If we can rally them, the West would have more than
enough.”

Catelyn quickly reminded them of the Blackfish’s position. “We only brought House Tully with us.
With Riverrun back in Tully control and Walder Frey dead, the Riverlands will answer my uncle’s
call. Even if he can only rally the western vassals of the Riverlands, they could bring us around
10,000.”

Brienne felt a flash of hope. If they had over 20,000, they should be able to overthrow Cersei. The
Reach’s loyalty was debatable if they did not associate her with the destruction of the Sept and
House Tyrell. To them, Cersei had appeared an ally.

“What of the Vale? It seems they have ample reason to side with Cersei now.” Tyrion’s voice was
grim. It was something they had yet to discuss, but all worried about.

Brienne looked to Catelyn who sank at the mention. Given Catelyn’s words with Baelish before
the battle, she had not expected the Vale to ally with them.

“Petyr would be a fool to answer our call. My sister is likely to do whatever he says. Either they
will remain neutral or side with Cersei. If the Reach does stay at Cersei’s side and the Vale joins
them, it could be an even battle. We may even have the disadvantage.”

“We don’t need any of it. I know a way into the Keep. I’ll kill Cersei myself.” Jaime’s voice was
determined as he spoke.

Brienne cringed at the thought of Jaime killing his own twin. His former lover and mother of his
deceased children.

“No. Jaime, you can’t. Let others handle her.” Genna spoke emphatically from down the table. She
crossed her arms and leaned back in a huff.

“No one else can get close enough to her! I can do it. I know the tunnel system below the Keep. I
can get to her without risking any lives.”

Catelyn shook her head and pinched the bridge of her nose. Her words betrayed her exhaustion.
“Your aunt is right. It will haunt you. You can’t.”

“I can and I will.”

At Jaime’s words, the small group began to bicker over the approach with Cersei. Brienne was at
war with herself. She wanted to kill Cersei, but she feared hurting Jaime in the process.

Would he resent me for it? He is angry at her now, but that will fade in time. She is still his twin.

“My brother is right.” The bickering stopped as all eyes turned to Tyrion. “We need a small group
to go in through the tunnels. It should happen under the cover of night. We just need one person to
get to her, but we should send a few. If we’re successful, the group can ring the bells to inform the
army in the distance.”

Jaime nodded. “Yes, well there is that matter of the Kingsguard… or rather, the Queensguard. We
need enough to remove the two guards who will be stationed outside her room and any additional
guards that might be called to aid. Then I can get to her.”

“Not you!” Catelyn glared at Jaime from across the table.

Brienne could feel Jaime’s hand tighten around hers. His frustration was palpable. “You don’t
think I’ll do it, do you?”

“No, it’s quite the opposite actually. You’re not thinking about how this will all feel after. No
kinslaying.”

“I could do it.” Brienne’s voice spoke hesitantly beside Jaime. “I’ll make it painless, Jaime. You
have my word.”

Jaime huffed. His tone was sarcastic as he looked to Brienne. “You’ll be a Lannister too. No
kinslaying supposedly.”

From down the table, Genna grunted in irritation. The older woman glanced to the ceiling,
speaking more to herself than anyone in particular. “Can we argue over who gets the honor of
killing my cunt of a niece later? We need only establish the group going. Obviously, Jaime must
go. He knows the city the best and he knows many of the guards. Addam can lead the West’s army
while he is in the city.”

With a deep sigh, Jaime shrugged. “I told the Hound he can come south. He means to kill that
monster he calls a brother. It seems he would be good to bring through the tunnels.”
“The Mountain is mine.” Brienne spoke vehemently at Jaime’s side.

Jaime startled as he turned to Brienne; his face was incredulous. “What!? No! You are not fighting
the Mountain, Brienne.”

“He killed my father! I don’t even want to think on what he did to the people of Tarth. If any of my
men find out that he harmed their kin, there will be a pack of us going after him.”

With a look of amusement, Tyrion smiled at everyone gathered around the table.

“Ser Jaime, Lady Brienne, and the House. What a group we have so far. Who knew my sister
would be so popular. I for one look forward to sitting right here at Winterfell and drinking all the
wine stores.”

Catelyn’s brows furrowed at Tyrion’s words. A stream of thoughts played out over her face before
she spoke.

“Tyrion, no japes now. Could I trust you with my home and children? If we provided you and
Genna with men for defense and… Jon. He would rule in my stead. If anything happens to me,
Sansa would be Lady of Winterfell until Rickon comes of age.”

Jon flinched at Catelyn’s side. He looked to her with shock writ across his face.

“My lady, your trueborn children are here.”

Catelyn looked to Jon with the utmost sincerity. “Rickon is far too young. Sansa is of age, but she
has been a prisoner in King’s Landing. We never expected her to be in such a position to rule
Winterfell. Only the boys learned the running of a Great House and kingdom from Ned; just as you
and Theon did. You’re very much like him, Jon. You would do it the way he wanted. Sansa can
learn much from all of you, and she will need it. If something happens to me, Sansa will need to
lead the North until Rickon can. I ask that you stand by your siblings and support them as they
learn how to rule effectively.”

Jon nodded, but his next words were laced with confusion. His question gave voice to what
everyone else in the room seemed to be thinking.

“Of course, I would do what you ask of me. Where are you going though?”

Catelyn glanced to Jaime and Brienne. “To King’s Landing. I’ll do it. I’ll kill Cersei.”

Jaime snorted as his shoulders shook with laughter. “You’re japing, right? This is a jape?”

“No, I am not. You cannot do this. She is your twin and we all know she was much more. You
may resent her now, but that will fade in time and you will live with that regret. I will not have
Brienne do this either. I fear you may come to resent her for it; although she is certainly owed it for
what Cersei did. I’ll do it. I will give her a quick death. You have my word.”

Jaime looked around the table as if awaiting the end of the jape to come. “You finally get back
here with your children and now you’re going to leave again? We nearly got ourselves killed
getting you this dreary castle back! Do you recall what happened the last time House Stark went
south?”

Catelyn took a deep breath and controlled her response. “I am forever grateful for what you all
have done for me, but I am no fool. After dealing with her own House, Cersei will come for mine.
My children will be no safer at Winterfell than anywhere her reach extends. She and Joffrey killed
my husband. She held my daughter captive and tormented her. She has killed my allies and she will
come for the North. Let me do this and keep this off your conscience.”

Again, Jaime chuckled. “So you mean to show me just how much you care by killing my sister for
me. Well that’s very sweet, Catelyn.”

“She does you a kindness, Jaime. Stop it.” Genna’s voice was a warning from down the table.
“Stop acting like you don’t care how this ends for Cersei. Anyone else would tear Cersei apart
limb by limb for what she has done. Do you want that?”

Brienne felt Jaime’s body flinch at the words. She knew he still cared, even if he pretended not to.
They were twins and had been so much more for most of their lives.

With a sigh, Jaime smiled at Brienne before glancing at Catelyn. “You just can’t stand the idea of
me and Brienne going on an adventure through the Riverlands and Crownlands without you. Just
like old times. We’re going to have so much fun together. I certainly hope that I don’t lose another
hand along the way.”

In response, Catelyn groaned and buried her head in her hands. Tyrion clapped excitedly from
down the table and smiled.

“Great, well, I’m glad all the killings are settled. Lets discuss this wedding.”
 “Minor detail to consider”
Chapter Summary

Catelyn finishes preparing for the wedding. More information comes from the south
and she reflects on some things.

“Hold still! I’ll jab you with a needle again if you can’t behave.” Catelyn glared at Jaime as she
held the crimson fabric pinched between her fingers. Putting a second pin between her teeth,
Catelyn mumbled as she worked.

Insufferable.

It had been a week since they decided upon an approach against Cersei. They were awaiting word
from the south as to which kingdoms would join their cause. The Blackfish had immediately
replied confirming support of the Riverlands. He called the banners and would await word for
when to march south.

Catelyn called on the Norther vassals. Many had not supported House Bolton, and none had known
Catelyn lived. With House Stark having reclaimed Winterfell, vassals sent word of their renewed
vows to House Stark.

From what Catelyn could gather, they likely had 7,000 capable soldiers in all the North. They
would leave a small contingent to guard Winterfell while the rest would move south. The
Lannisters had sent word to the vassals who had not answered Genna’s initial call on Jaime’s
behalf.

At Cersei’s descent into madness coupled with their mounting frustration with the West’s position
in Westeros, all vassals answered Jaime’s call to arms. His additional bannermen would amass to
the west of King’s Landing on the gold road.

Gods willing, none would give their lives if their small group was successful in the Keep.

Jaime’s and Brienne’s wedding would take place on the morrorw and Catelyn was happy of it. It
would give everyone something to celebrate amidst all the hurt the raven dropped on their Keep.

Sansa sat in the corner of the room working on the cloaks for Jaime and Brienne. A small smile
tugged at her lips, and the sight warmed Catelyn’s heart. As a mother, it hurt Catelyn to think on all
that Sansa endured as a political prisoner in King’s Landing.

Sansa had her first moonblood without me to soothe her fears and answer her questions. Sansa was
betrothed to a miserable shit of a boy who made her stare at her father’s decapitated head. Sansa
was forced to wed a man from the very House seeking to destroy hers.

“Where did you even find crimson in the North? I thought you people only enjoyed your dull,
depressing colors. I can hardly pick you all out from the castle walls and dreary landscape.”

At Jaime’s teasing lilt, Catelyn let the needle poke into his skin as she set her next pin.

“Ow! Gods damnit! You did that on purpose.”

“It seems I’m as clumsy with a needle, as you and Brienne claim to be with your swords.”

An amused smile stretched across Catelyn’s face as she stepped back and appraised her work. With
a satisfied nod, she hummed contentedly.

“There. Now you almost look halfway decent.”

Jaime scoffed and feigned insult. “You’re a horrid liar. I only hope you can someday get over your
unrequited love for me.”

“Are you unwell again? Did my hitting you across the face with that rock in the Riverlands knock
something loose?”

Jaime’s lips pressed firm together as he tried to keep from laughing. His shoulders shook slightly as
he quickly recovered. “There you go. Thinking of me chained to a post again.”

“Sansa, please wait outside for a moment. I need to speak with this dolt.”

A teasing lilt took hold of Jaime’s voice as he glanced to Sansa. “No, don’t leave me alone
goodsister. She means to dishonor me.”

Catelyn swatted his arm hard and glared. “Stop that! Don’t speak such filth in front of my daughter!
What is wrong with you!?”

Sansa moved quickly from the room and Catelyn took a deep breath at the sound of the door
shutting. With a warning look directed at Jaime, her head tilted slightly, and she spoke sternly.

“Now listen, we need to discuss the wedding night.”

Jaime guffawed. “Gods. Are you about to have the talk with me? Isn’t this conversation meant for
the wench? I can assure you that I know how it all works.”

“That’s the problem entirely! It doesn’t strike me that you’ve much considered the consequences
of beddings in the past. We’re going to be marching south to war. Talk to Brienne and consider
what the two of you intend to do about that. Do you want to risk anything happening to Brienne
should her womb quicken with your babe?”

Jaime flinched at the words. It pleased Catelyn to see his mind working and his features line with
worry.

Dolt. Of course he hadn’t thought of it. He’s only thinking of the pleasurable aspects of bedding
her.

After finishing up with Jaime, Catelyn moved towards the study. She intended to write her uncle to
confirm the amassing army would move south in two days’ time. They would meet at the
crossroads and move south from there.

Arriving at the study, Catelyn was surprised to see Maester Luwin at the door. The aged maester
smiled warmly at the sight of her.

“My lady. This missive just arrived from Tarth.”

Catelyn felt her heart leap into her throat. She prayed to the Seven that it brought relief and not
pain. Taking the missive, Catelyn sought out Brienne. It didn’t take long to find her sworn sword.
The young woman was in the yards with Tarth’s soldiers.
They had taken to training at midday when the temperature was at its peak. Their group had not
taken well to the North. Their southern blood was ill-equipped for the harsh environment. Catelyn
remembered the first time the winter air bit at her nose many years ago.

Many of the soldiers’ faces mirrored Brienne’s. Their cheeks were rosy from cold and exertion.
Their pale features were made paler in the limited sunlight. As Catelyn approached, she saw the
men’s eyes dart to her.

At their questioning expressions, Brienne turned to meet Catelyn’s eyes. Her face dropped slightly
as she saw the missive in Catelyn’s hand.

“Lady Brienne. It’s from Tarth.”

Brienne sucked in a deep breath and nodded as she reached out for the letter. A slight tremble
touched Brienne’s fingers as they slid between the wax seal and the parchment. Catelyn stood
close and prepared to provide emotional support for what was to come.

Reading the letter, Brienne exhaled loudly. For the briefest of moments, Catelyn saw a deep pain
flash in Brienne’s eyes, but the young woman collected herself quickly.

Ser Brent was at Brienne’s side with an uneasy expression on his face. Looking to her lead
commander, Brienne smiled and grabbed his shoulder.

“Elaine and the babe are well.”

Brent sagged in relief and embraced Brienne. Looking to the rest of her men, Brienne spoke
commandingly.

“The crown’s fleet was spotted well in advance by our lookouts. Despite knowing it a lost cause,
half of our guard met them on the sea to delay the enemy’s arrival at port. It gave our people
enough time to flee. Nearly all were safely escorted to the eastern coast through the escape route.
All of you with wives and children can be assured they are safe. The crown’s soldiers torched the
village, but they concentrated on Evenfall. My father remained behind to fight with our guards. I
know some of you had family in the guard. I’m very sorry. They’re all lost to us. We’ll mourn
them properly when we return. I’ll make the crown pay for this. You have my word.”

It seemed the men had been holding a collective breath as Brienne spoke. Catelyn felt a wave of
relief that none among them had not lost their children or wives, but it seemed some lost kin in the
guard or potentially friends and family at the village.

Catelyn marveled at how well prepared and organized Tarth was to withstand attacks. A slight awe
went through Catelyn upon hearing how many guards sacrificed themselves to delay the crown’s
fleet.

The people of Tarth all seem cut from the same mold. Brave, honorable, and fierce. None of them
deserved this cruelty.

As it sunk in among their ranks, one of the commanders nodded and turned to the group. “Our
Evenstar will right this wrong for people and we’ll be at her side in it!”

Collectively the men began nodding and looking to Brienne with determined expressions. Shouts
of “Our Evenstar! The warrior of Tarth!” filled the courtyard. To see Brienne so openly accepted
by her people warmed Catelyn’s heart.

She had seen their pride on the march north, but that was when Selwyn was alive. Brienne had
been their lady, but not yet their Evenstar. They accepted her without hesitation.

Breaking away from the group, Brienne nodded at Brent to continue the drills. Catelyn could see
she was about to crumble once her back was turned from the men. Moving quickly at her side,
Catelyn watched as Brienne struggled to keep her mask of indifference in place.

When they stepped inside the Keep, Catelyn tugged Brienne into a side room and watched in
despair as Brienne immediately broke down. The young woman collapsed to her knees and
struggled for breath. Her hand shook as it clutched the missive.

“Brienne. What is it? Was there more?”

Handing the letter to Catelyn, Brienne nodded wordlessly. Catelyn scanned the missive and gasped
at the last paragraph.

To your question, my lady, I fear you will not like the answer. We were able to recover your
father’s body. All of it. He was not given an honorable death. One of the few surviving guards saw
it. The Mountain engaged him in single combat. Our Lord fought bravely, but that monster of a
man took him to pieces. Before he met the enemy, your father gave me the ring of the Evenstar. He
wanted you to know that he is very proud of you. He knows you will make a fine Evenstar for our
people. We set his remains among your mother and siblings.

Catelyn dropped the letter to the floor and clutched Brienne’s head to her. “I’m so sorry, Brienne. I
swear to you that the crown will pay for this. Cersei and that monster will never harm you or your
people again.”

Gods. How did she hold herself together before the men after reading these words? She is a fine
leader. There is strength in her beyond the sword.

Holding her tight, Catelyn prayed to the Seven for a successful trip south with little to no casualties
on their side. She was not certain how much more the young woman in her arms could take. When
Brienne’s tears stopped, Catelyn pulled back and cupped Brienne’s face.

“Those men are lucky to have you as their Evenstar. With Ser Jaime at your side, Tarth will be
unstoppable. A true force in the Stormlands. I’m going to get you some tea to settle you. I’ll be
right back. Just sit here for a moment.”

Brienne nodded as Catelyn exited the room. On the way to the kitchen, she ran into the Lannister
brothers. Tyrion had a jug of wine in hand as he dramatically told some tale that had Jaime in
stitches.

Gods. Tyrion wasted no time in finding the cellars.

“Jaime. A word.”

At Catelyn’s request, Jaime snorted. “Gods, are you going to give me more bedding advice? I do
hope you don’t intent to offer critique or encouragement from inside the room.”

Noting Catelyn’s expression, Jaime’s smile dropped. “What now? There’s barely a soul left down
south. What more could Cersei have done?”
Detailing the words regarding Brienne’s father, Catelyn watched as the Lannister brothers
grimaced. Their moods immediately soured, and Jaime inquired as to where Brienne was. After
pointing him to the room, Catelyn continued towards the kitchens to procure some tea for Brienne.
Her mind wandered to what lay ahead.

The rest of Catelyn’s day was consumed by wedding preparations. She was determined to lift
Brienne’s spirts as best she could considering the day’s information. With Sansa’s help and final
touches to Brienne’s wedding attire, Catelyn set out the garments and smiled.

Neither Jaime nor Brienne wanted an overdone wedding. They merely wished to exchange vows
and focus on the battle to come. Despite that, Catelyn wanted to see the pair smile. It was
unimaginable how things had changed since they first set out with Jaime as a prisoner exchange.

Catelyn had dreamed of ways to gut the annoying man. In true Jaime fashion, he had needled both
women the entire way. It wasn’t until Locke’s group descended upon them, that Catelyn’s
perception of Jaime Lannister forever shifted. The shift in her view of Jaime came alongside a shift
in view of others she once called friend or enemy.

When the sun rose the next day and the hours passed, Catelyn made her way to Sansa’s room.
Sansa and Arya sat with Brienne, speaking of varying topics as they awaited the call to move
towards the Sept.

Brienne’s wedding outfit was befitting an Evenstar. Knowing Brienne as they did, Sansa and
Catelyn were certain to keep her in breeches. Drawing inspiration from the Dornish warrior women
who donned tight breeches with more feminine tops, they tailored an outfit that would honor
Brienne’s warrior physique and maiden heart.

They made breeches to show off Brienne’s long, lean legs. The breeches were a muted silver to
draw the eye to her formal top. She wore a long-sleeved, blue top that was tailored well-enough to
be a second skin.

It had a deep v-line cut at the neck, which of course Brienne thought the most scandalous thing she
had ever seen. The top came to her knees and hugged her subtle curves. Silver and rose stitching
throughout the hem complimented the breeches, while a Tarth sigil at the left breast was a clear
reminder of her status as the Evenstar.

It was the most feminine look that Catelyn had ever seen on Brienne and the young woman’s
figure worked perfectly for it. Sansa was fussing with Brienne’s hair as Arya rolled her eyes and
asked why it needed touching.

Brienne often brushed her hair back aggressively, but Sansa had parted it at one side and pulled the
strands across her forehead gently.

Gods. She looks marvelous. Mayhap Jaime has the best vision of us all.

When Sansa finished, Catelyn smiled at her daughter’s work. Brienne certainly looked the part of a
bride even if she refused a dress. They draped the maiden cloak around her and prepared to move
towards the Sept.

“Girls, give me a moment with Brienne.”

At Catelyn’s words, Arya and Sansa moved into the hallway as Catelyn stepped closer to Brienne.
She placed comforting hands on the young woman’s upper arms and smiled up at her like a proud
mother would.
“Your father would be very proud of all you’ve accomplished, regardless of your decision to wed.
You make Tarth proud.” Reaching into her pocket, Catelyn produced the necklace once worn by
Brienne’s mother.

“Jaime knew you wouldn’t put this on yourself. He checked your room before going off to the
Sept.”

Brienne rolled her eyes, but Catelyn ignored the silent protest and put the necklace on the young
woman. It fell perfectly with the line of the top and rested on Brienne’s skin just below the throat.

Looking warmly at the young woman, Catelyn produced a pin from the same pocket that had
previously held the necklace.

“I wore this pin for my own wedding. I had hoped that Sansa would someday wear it for hers, but it
seemed that I missed the opportunity. Something tells me that I won’t be convincing her to annual
that marriage.”

Catelyn chuckled as she thought on the blossoming relationship of her eldest daughter and Tyrion.
They were of similar age difference as Jaime and Brienne, but both younger relative to their
counterparts. Loathe as Catelyn was to admit it, they did seem perfect for one another. Mayhap
love would grow from their strong foundation just as hers grew with Ned.

“Mayhap someday Arya will wear it… if she decides to make a match. For today, I hope that you
will wear it. I should hope that you think of me as family as I do you. You’re the daughter I never
birthed.”

Brienne smiled widely at the words. “Thank you, my lady.”

Catelyn placed the pin on the cloak where she had once worn hers. “None of that ‘my lady’,
Brienne. You call me Catelyn or Cat if you please. As your final service as sworn sword, I ask that
you take that unbearable lion of yours away from me when this is all done. A woman can only
endure so much.”

Catelyn chuckled as she spoke. She knew that Brienne understood her jest. In truth, Catelyn was
disheartened to not be with the pair. Jaime had become more like an annoying little brother that she
did not ask for but ended up with.

I once thought Edmure enough. It seems I inherited another. Now I suppose I’m to see that smug,
golden lion at every family event.

Grabbing Brienne by the arm, Catelyn tugged her towards the door. In place of Selwyn, she would
present Brienne at the Sept. The path to the Sept was illuminated by torches. With winter
approaching, the sun was setting earlier each day. It was late afternoon and Catelyn knew that by
the time the feast began, it would be dark out.

Entering the Sept, Catelyn smiled at the sea of humanity crammed into the space. The West and
Tarth soldiers were shoulder to shoulder with wide smiles plastered across their faces.

She heard Genna chuckling earlier that day about it. The men had fought for space in the Sept
knowing that not everyone would fit. Many had arrived after lunch to ensure a seat.

In the front row on the righthand side, Catelyn saw Genna, Tyrion, Sansa, Addam, Bronn, the
Hound, and Jaime’s next senior most commanders.

Sansa. Typical. Another girl abandons me for a lion.

On the left, Catelyn saw Pod, Ser Brent, Arya, Rickon, Jon, and Theon. The row behind them was
filled with Tarth commanders who apparently got to the Sept quite early to witness their Evenstar
marry.

As she looked forward, Catelyn appraised Jaime. She smiled inwardly at the knowledge that Theon
and Jon dragged the Lannister brothers into Winter town to get a clean shave and haircut. Tyrion’s
shaggy, golden mop had been in greatest need of trimming, but Jaime’s hair had already been short
after leaving King’s Landing.

Jaime looks far too handsome. Of course, I can never tell him as much or I’ll never heard the end
of it.

Making him even more striking, an unbelievably wide smile stretched across Jaime’s face as he
stared at Brienne. He was like a little boy receiving his first sword… or Ser Duncan’s shield. With
her arm locked around Brienne’s, Catelyn guided the young woman forward.

The ceremony passed quickly. To Catelyn, it truly felt as though she just married off a daughter. It
amazed her how quickly she became attached to Brienne.

Throughout the ceremony, Catelyn marveled at how the pair looked at one another. It was as
though no one else was in the room or mattered. She had never seen a couple so in love on their
wedding day.

As with Catelyn’s wedding, most noble matches were for political reason. While the more
fortunate couples grew to love one another as she did Ned, many did not. It was a duty to their
Houses and nothing more.

Catelyn smiled at the pair before her knowing it would not be the case for them. They were a most
rare thing. Theirs was a pure and selfless love reflected in one another. Catelyn was certain that
nothing would come between them.

Looking at them reminded Catelyn of Ned. She felt a familiar burning sensation at the back of her
throat and eyes when she thought on her husband. She missed him terribly and cursed the day
Robert rode into Winterfell with his caravan, asking Ned to leave behind his family for the realm.

Breaking through her thoughts, Catelyn heard Jaime’s voice as the ceremony concluded.

“With this kiss, I pledge my love.”

His right arm moved around Brienne’s waist and tugged her close, as his left hand cupped her face.
When eventually their lips parted, Jaime smiled and leaned his head against Brienne’s.

His nose pushed gently against her cheek as he held her close. From her seat, Catelyn could see
Jaime whisper something for Brienne’s ears only. She felt pure joy for the couple before her.

As they made their way inside for the feast, Catelyn ensured everyone was comfortable and well
provided for. Attendants bustled about with food and drink. Musicians played familiar tunes and
kept the atmosphere upbeat.

Once warring Houses and kingdoms came together to celebrate a love between nobles from
previously opposing sides. Looking to the front dais, Jaime and Brienne were flanked by Sansa and
Tyrion on one side, and Genna and Ser Brent on the other.

Ser Brent seemed to have taken on a brotherly role to Brienne of late, and Catelyn was pleased of
it. Brienne intended to name Ser Brent the head of the Tarth army and it seemed a lovely
connection shared through Galladon.

Genna was beaming at her new goodniece as the newlywed couple spoke with her. It did not
escape Catelyn how Tyrion and Sansa left the dais to dance together several times. Sansa appeared
happy and carefree. It was a sight that Catelyn longed to see since retrieving her daughter from
King’s Landing.

Addam, Bronn, and Pod were getting quite rowdy at one of the tables with some of the Tarth
commanders and the Hound. It was all good-natured, but Catelyn wondered at how boisterous
Bronn and Addam may become as the evening wore on. Sitting with Catelyn was Arya, Rickon,
Jon, and Theon.

It was a couple of hours into the feast when most of the guests had found their way to the floor to
dance. Jaime was twirling Brienne around the space much to the encouragement of the soldiers
from the West and Tarth.

Surprisingly, Arya and Sansa were sitting with the Hound. All three seemed to be having an
amicable conversation and Catelyn nearly fell off her chair in shock when she saw Sandor smile. It
was then that Tyrion came over and took Arya’s unoccupied seat.

“I was thinking on this plan and I do believe we’re missing a key consideration.”

At Tyrion’s statement, Catelyn’s brows furrowed. The younger Lannister brother looked out at the
newlywed couple spinning around the dance floor. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

“What would that be?”

Looking to Catelyn, Tyrion raised a brow and spoke sarcastically. “I’ll play at being an optimist,
and say we’re going to win this war, but I wonder. Who will sit on the Iron Throne? Minor detail to
consider.”
 "Practice makes perfect"
Chapter Summary

Jaime and Brienne wedding night. The next day, Jaime takes Catelyn's words to heart.

Chapter Notes

NSFW - I tried to keep it "M", but who really knows???

Jaime felt his heart beating wildly as he stared at Brienne. The air in the room seemed to have been
cast out along with the last of their clothing.

Jaime’s eyes roamed the length of Brienne’s body. He took in every scar, freckle, and curve. A
small smirk tugged at his lips when he saw the scar at her thigh from their fight in the Riverlands.

Matching scars for our thighs, though her mark on my leg struck truer.

Dragging her long leg up towards him, Jaime flashed a teasing smile as he leaned down and kissed
the scar. Then his eyes wandered to the scar from the bear. Realization hit Jaime like a punch to
the gut.

I could have lost my wench. What if I hadn’t made it back in time?

Jaime wanted to find a red priestess and raise Locke from death only to kill him again. Tracing the
scar with his fingers as Brienne lay flat on her back, large sapphires staring up at him, Jaime
looked to his maimed wrist beside her shoulder.

They both endured much in the Riverlands. His fate with Brienne was forever intertwined when
Catelyn led them from Robb’s camp as a planned prisoner exchange. To Jaime, it seemed the true
prison was their intended destination.

Looking down at Brienne, a slight panic set in. He had only been with one woman his entire life,
and Jaime hardly needed to learn her body just as he had no need to woo her. They were twins.
There was a degree of intimacy that had existed long before their explorations began.

Laying with Cersei was nothing like having Brienne naked in his arms. Cersei’s physical needs
were as demanding and instructive as everything else shared between them. As with most things,
Cersei led the way.

Cersei told Jaime to join the Kingsguard and he agreed. Cersei told Jaime to do something and he
did it. Cersei told Jaime how to touch her and he obliged.

Then there was the matter of circumstance. Couplings with Cersei were dangerous and rushed.
There was no time for slowly wandering hands and mouths. No time for prolonged ecstasy or
postcoital cuddling.
Everything was a dark corner and quick fuck. Pure lust with no romance. In hindsight, none of it
felt right to Jaime.

As twins they were bonded closer than most siblings, but that was where it should have stopped.
Recognizing the depths of his feelings for Brienne had led Jaime to realize just how wrong it all
felt with Cersei.

Jaime wanted to please Brienne, but he felt as inexperienced as Brienne in many ways. As
uncertainty regarding how to please Brienne swirled in his mind, Jaime felt Brienne’s arms move
to cover herself.

“We don’t have to.”

The words distracted Jaime from his worries. Looking into Brienne’s eyes, he saw her retreating
emotionally. It reminded him of their earliest encounters in the Riverlands when he mocked her.

A slight desperation entered Jaime’s tone when he spoke. “We don’t have to, but I want to. Do you
not want to? I won’t… I can stop.”

I might die of course if you ask me to stop.

Brienne’s eyes darted away as though searching some darkened corner of the room for the
appropriate response. As an answer took form on the tip of her tongue, Jaime could sense
Brienne’s struggle to articulate her mounting fears.

“The room is rather well-lit. Would it be better if…”

Before Brienne could finish, Jaime pressed his lips to hers. He had a sinking suspicion as to where
her line of thought was headed, and it was not what he wished to hear.

Committing himself to figuring out this new dynamic of their relationship in the moment, Jaime
tried to push away the mocking voice telling him that he had no idea what he was doing. That he
would never be good enough for the amazing woman below him now.

Jaime let his hand drift across her soft skin before coming to rest at her breast. The contact was one
not unfamiliar to them from their nights under the stars. A delicate swipe of the thumb across her
nipple elicited the expected gasp. Seizing the opportunity, Jaime’s tongue dove deeper into
Brienne’s mouth to caress hers.

Their bodies began to grind together wantonly. A deep yearning pooled in Jaime’s gut as he
dragged his hand lower between them. He traced the outline of Brienne’s folds as his cock rubbed
against her sensitive nub. With exploratory fingers, Jaime pushed past her entrance.

Finding her warm and wet, a small groan pushed passed Jaime’s lips. The slight tension in
Brienne’s muscles reminded Jaime to move slowly. He wanted to make her first time as
pleasurable as possible, though he knew there would be no avoiding discomfort at the loss of her
maidenhead.

Waiting for her body to relax, Jaime pushed his fingers deeper as he continued to rub himself
against her. Brienne’s eyes squeezed shut and Jaime hated the break in eye contact.

“Am I hurting you?”

Without opening her eyes, she shook her head in refute. Jaime could tell that she was holding her
breath as if awaiting an excruciating pain to take hold of her body.
Placing a delicate kiss to Brienne’s jaw, Jaime encouraged her eyes open. “Wench. I won’t hurt
you. I never would.”

At his words, Brienne’s eyes flew open. A flash of confusion clouded her sapphire pools as their
eyes met. “I know.”

Removing his fingers from inside her, Jaime took himself in hand and lined up at her entrance.
With an unspoken question of consent, Jaime waited for Brienne to nod before slowly sinking into
her. He could feel his length stretching her out as he moved.

Gods. I’ll spill in no time. She’s so tight.

Appraising Brienne’s features for signs of discomfort, Jaime took pause at the slightest grimace.
His chest was heaving in a mix of want and restraint.

“Are you alright?”

Brienne shifted slightly below him and nodded. Her hands came to his shoulders before wrapping
around his back. Leaning down to meet her lips, Jaime sucked lightly at Brienne’s lower lip.
Pushing past her maidenhead, Jaime’s mouth quickly swallowed her cries.

Stilling for a moment, Jaime waited for Brienne to relax before continuing. He reached between
them once more to rub his fingers firmly against her nub. As Brienne’s body settled into the bed
and her muscles grew less taut, Jaime began to thrust in a shallow rhythm.

Their union felt incredible and set off a flurry of emotions in Jaime. His body fit perfectly with
Brienne’s, and the oneness he felt at their coupling was unparalleled. To Jaime, it felt like coming
home.

As his fingers continued to rub Brienne’s nub, his cock pushed deeper; desperate for more of her. A
gasp from Brienne’s lips matched his own as their moans began to fill the room. Rocking faster
against her, Jaime felt her body tense, not in pain but in pleasure.

Breaking their frantic kissing, Jaime pulled back his face to stare into her eyes. He wished to see
his vast love reflected in her emotive eyes.

Brienne’s hands moved down his back, pulling him closer. A panic took hold of Jaime when he felt
the telltale signs of his building release. He was desperate to ensure Brienne felt her pleasure first,
but her walls were tight, and his body was not accustomed to prolonged couplings.

He had been trained for quick fucks with little skin to skin contact. Praying to the Seven to hold off
longer, Jaime tried to slow the pace and change his angle, but Brienne’s legs had wrapped so
tightly around his hips that the effort was futile.

Jaime’s groans of pleasure came out through clenched teeth. “Gods. Brienne. Feel so good.”

With a grunt, Jaime spilled inside Brienne and he inwardly berated himself at the lack of control.

“Fuck. I’m sorry. I don’t think… it’s not supposed be that fast.”

Jaime grimaced as he met Brienne’s eyes. With even less experience to draw from, Brienne only
shrugged, not understanding what she was intended to feel.

“It felt nice.”

Nice. Perfect.

Jaime knew that Brienne meant no harm by the comment. She was a maiden and it hardly occurred
to her that she should feel something more than nice. As his cock softened inside her, Jaime felt his
face flame in embarrassment.

Wordlessly, Jaime pulled out and trailed kisses down Brienne’s body. A question was in her eyes
when Jaime glanced up from just below her navel.

Continuing to move lower, Jaime felt his own warm breath kiss the delicate skin between her legs.
Using his tongue to finish what his fingers and cock could not, Jaime concentrated on Brienne’s
nub and felt her legs tense below his arms. The fingers of his left hand splayed below her navel
before traveling to seek out her hand.

It didn’t take long for Brienne’s breathing to labor and her hips to buck up in pleasure. She
squeezed his hand tightly as Jaime’s tongue continued to torment her. When she peaked, Jaime felt
an immense relief that he could do that much for her.

Looking up at Brienne, Jaime was taken aback by how beautiful she looked. Her cheeks were flush
from pleasure and her eyes sparkled.

“What was that?”

Jaime bit back a laugh at her question. Moving back up her body, he placed a kiss to her lips and
smiled.

“That was how it was supposed to feel had I not spilled early like a boy of five and ten.”

Brienne opened her mouth to speak, but quickly closed it. Confusion tugged at her features before
she met his eyes. Innocence and curiosity laced her tone when eventually she collected her
thoughts and gave voice to her uncertainty.

“Can we only do that the one time then?”

Jaime chuckled and shook his head. “Gods, wench. You’re insatiable. I was quite hoping to not
leave this bed for some time, although, I’ll need a moment to do all that again.”

At his comment, Brienne blushed and stammered, but Jaime silenced her with a deep kiss. He had
little desire to sleep that night with his naked wench finally in his arms. Keeping their lips locked,
Jaime fell to the bed, pulling Brienne to her side to face him.

It was a sleepless night indeed as Jaime explored all of Brienne’s body. He learned quickly her
likes and dislikes; committing every smile, gasp, and exclamation of his name to memory. When
the sun rose the next day, so did his cock.

Jaime was amused at how scandalized Brienne was by it all. She seemed to be under the
impression that they were expected in the great hall to break their fast, but Jaime only had one
thing in mind to feast on.

“I can assure you that we offend no one with our absence. Mayhap we can join them for supper.”

After coming together once more and laying abed holding one another, Brienne dragged Jaime
from the bed. Encouraging Jaime to shove his cock into his breeches rather than seek refuge in her,
Brienne snorted at Jaime’s begrudging departure from their room.
With a sorrowful look back at the disheveled bed, Jaime conceded that it was likely best to eat
something of substance that day. The castle was quiet, but it was not unusual for most to be outside
given the hour. It was not long before lunch, and they hoped to find something to eat before the
midday rush began.

Entering the hall, Jaime saw Sansa, Tyrion, Bronn, Pod, Sandor, and Addam huddled at a table
together. They looked to be picking at some crumb cake while enjoying wine.

Bronn shouted their arrival, drawing the attention from the group. “There they are! Good to see ya
both walkin’ well enough.”

Jaime cringed at the crass sellsword and shook his head in disapproval. Before he could tell Bronn
to piss off, Addam swatted Bronn’s arm and spoke sternly. “Mind your tongue! That’s the Lady of
the Rock you’re speaking in front of.”

Addam could be a bit crass or inappropriate, but not where it concerned ladies. With Brienne
officially the Lady of the Rock, Addam would have none of it. With an appreciative nod at his
friend, Jaime guided Brienne towards the table.

Sitting to Tyrion’s left, Jaime slung his arm around the back of Brienne’s chair to his right. His
hope was to eat quickly enough and get back to their room before they were overrun with more
people.

Sansa called over her shoulder to one of the castle staff, bidding them bring food for Jaime and
Brienne. It did not go unnoticed to Jaime how cozy his little brother and Sansa looked. Their sides
were pressed closely together, and they kept leaning into one another when they spoke.

Gods. We’re likely to return from the south and there’s to be a babe on the way.

The thought sent a sobering though through Jaime. He recalled his conversation with Catelyn
yesterday, and he knew it needed discussing with Brienne. If she wanted, he would seek out moon
tea for her from the maester.

Jaime hoped to let the gods decide. If her moonblood did not arrive before the war, he would ask
that she remain with the forces outside the gates. He didn’t want to see her or their babe at risk
when the time came to face Cersei.

Thinking back on the night prior, Jaime vividly recalled wanting to spill inside Brienne. The
thought of her belly swelling with his child sent a surge of warmth through his body. He longed for
a family with her.

Jaime also knew the timing was not ideal. Loathe as he was to admit it, Catelyn made an excellent
point. He never much considered the consequences of his actions in the past, and it was the reason
Westeros was at war.

The attendants scrambled to the table with food for the newlywed couple. With an appreciative
smile and thanks, Brienne and Jaime dove into their food as Tyrion began to ramble at his side.

“Perhaps if you can manage some time apart later today, you can join us in Lady Catelyn’s study.
We have matters to deliberate that would be ideal to discuss with both of you present.”

Jaime groaned and looked dejectedly to Brienne. Looking to the knife in Brienne’s hand, a teasing
smile tugged at his lips. “Can you stab him with that knife as you once attempted during our lovely
meal with Roose and Catelyn?”
Brienne snorted and took another bite of her meal before looking to Tyrion. “What hour? We’ll be
there.”

The younger Lannister looked to Sansa and shrugged. “An hour before supper? I think that would
be sufficient.”

How many more hours does that give me to bed my wench-wife? It’s near lunch. That’s hardly
enough time.

“Alright. We’ll meet you there then.” Brienne’s tone was matter-of-fact. She took a sip of her drink
before glancing at Jaime in confusion.

“What?”

Crossing his arms, Jaime shrugged and raised his brows. “I was hoping we might have other
commitments to attend to.”

His eyes wandered over Brienne’s body lustfully as the others around the table resumed their
conversations. Leaning into her ear, Jaime smiled and whispered. “How about a spar, wench?”

“Do you intend on calling me that forever?” With exhausted eyes, Brienne glanced to Jaime as her
fork hung midway to her mouth.

“What else am I to call you? You are wenchish and wonderful. A wenchful.”

Shaking her head, Brienne sighed and looked back to her plate. Jaime could hardly suppress his
smile. He had never felt happier and more at ease.

My wench. My wife.

When they finished eating, Jaime tugged Brienne back towards their room. Every part of his body
longed to throw her down, tear off her clothes, and make her feel like a woman again, but he knew
that they should discuss the matter of his constant spilling in her.

“Do you know what moon tea is?” Jaime raised a curious brow as he took a seat beside Brienne on
the bed.

With a sarcastic huff and eye roll, Brienne met his gaze. “No, I’ve never heard of such a thing.
Particularly not when seeing men at Renly’s camp openly fuck camp followers and then bark at
them about finding moon tea.”

Fair enough.

“Do you want me to get you some?” Jaime tried to mask the disappointment at the thought of
doing anything to prevent a babe. Turning his head towards the fire, he concentrated on the flames
in the fireplace.

Brienne’s voice was laced with uncertainty. “I hadn’t thought about it, though I suppose it’s hardly
an ideal time.”

Jaime winced at the thought. Of course, he did not wish to see Brienne go into battle with their
babe growing safely within, but that did little to suppress the other emotions vying for
consideration.

“Do you think it’s a good idea?” Brienne’s question seemed an opportunity to present his earlier
consideration.

“Well, I very much want a babe with you, but the thought of you entering battle while pregnant is
disconcerting to say the least. What if you don’t take moon tea, and we’ll just see if your
moonblood comes. If it does, then you come into the Keep with us. If it doesn’t, then you could
stay back with Addam and Brent.”

Brienne’s nose crinkled at the thought. “I want to avenge my father. Not sit back at a distance and
hope to hear some bells ring. I couldn’t go into battle pregnant though.”

With a heavy sigh, Jaime nodded in understanding. “I’ll get you the moon tea if you want to ensure
readiness for battle.”

Forcing a smile, Jaime met Brienne’s eyes and nodded. He tugged her close and placed a kiss to
her temple. Squeezing his eyes shut, Jaime knew it was for the best. If she went into battle
pregnant and something happened to her, Jaime wouldn’t be able to forgive himself.

At Brienne’s next words, Jaime felt his spirits lift. “When the war in the south is done though, I
would like to have a babe with you.” Before she continued, a slight smirk tugged at her lips.
“Making a babe is quite fun. Until then, we’ll have to train.”

Jaime snorted before urging her back onto the bed. “That’s the spirit wench. Practice makes
perfect.”
 "Brienne of Fucking Tarth"
Chapter Summary

A plan is devised for the crown and the army moves south.

Brienne sat dumbfounded at the small table in one of Winterfell’s lesser used rooms. The crackling
of the fire at her back was the only sound to be heard as the group stared at her and Jaime,
assessing their reactions. Glancing to Jaime with wide eyes, Brienne noted her own shock mirrored
in his features.

“What? No.”

At Jaime’s response, Catelyn sighed and glanced to the Lannisters at her right for support. “You
are technically next in line. It would make things easier”

A rumbling laugh shook Jaime’s body as he looked to Brienne. “This is a jape. They’re drunk from
last night. See wench. Even the ever-honorable Catelyn Stark can’t control herself at such an
event.”

“I was not drunk, and we are serious. Tyrion raised an excellent point last night. We cannot
overthrow your sister and leave the throne vacant. Someone must take the crown. There is no other
logical choice.”

Brienne could see the shift in Jaime’s features. Mirth was replaced by irritation. “How is that my
problem? Cersei has become Aerys reborn and I’m merely removing a threat to the realm. I hold
the sword. You determine the politics.”

Tyrion sighed and leaned forward against the table. “We are determining the politics, and this is
the best course of action. There is no one else with claim.”

“Robert had no claim and yet he took the crown! He wasn’t next in line by birth. He won the
bloody thing. You can pick anyone! The new king or queen needn’t even be a noble!”

Looking to Jon, Jaime inclined his head. “Hells, you could put Ned’s bastard on the throne for all I
care! I’ll support him.”

Jon huffed a laugh and shook his head. “When I first saw you, I thought you a king.”

“I am not even going to read into that statement considering the only king you knew to compare me
against was Robert fucking Baratheon. I am neither a drunk nor a whoremonger, thank you.”

“No, I mean to say that you looked as I expected a king would. You looked commanding. You
looked like people respected you. They would follow you.”

A bitter laugh pushed past Jaime’s lips as he leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms. “Well
I’m not. I have never been respected, nor am I a king. Hells, I don’t even want to be a lord. I’m
going to be the consort to the Evenstar of Tarth. We are going to Tarth and rebuilding my wife’s
island when this war is done. That’s it.”
Relief coursed through Brienne at Jaime’s words. She certainly did not wish to be a queen. She
definitely did not wish to leave Tarth unattended.

“Becoming king is the best way to aid Tarth.” Genna’s voice was calm, but forceful. She took a
deep breath and met Jaime’s eyes.

“You’ll have the resources of the Seven Kingdoms to make reparations to Tarth. Brienne can name
a castellan and you can leverage the crown’s power and reach to ensure the island thrives. Any
children you have will inherit Tarth after the heir to the Iron Throne is born.”

Jaime looked at his aunt aghast. “How could you even support this? You know that I have no
desire to rule! I’m a knight!”

“Yes, you’re a knight. Remind me of those oaths of yours, Jaime. Be brave. Be just. Protect the
innocent. Are those not the qualities a king should have? You’ve been trained as the heir of a Great
House. You know how to rule and you understand matters of court even if you despise it. You are
military leader, and you were a Kingsguard. I do believe you are one of the most qualified we
have. I know you don’t wish for it, but what else are we to do?”

Brienne glanced to Jaime and saw his mounting frustration. He had as much desire to be king as
she had to be queen.

“Why can’t Tyrion be king? He is Cersei’s brother as well, but more importantly, he has served on
the small council. He has a mind for politics unlike me. He understands better than I how to play at
lord.”

With a hopeful glance to Tyrion, Brienne watched as the younger Lannister’s lips curved into a
sympathetic smile. His head shook as he met Jaime’s eyes.

“You are the only man who sees me as something more than the unwanted dwarf son of Tywin
Lannister. Thanks to our father, our own people don’t even respect me. I would no sooner be
accepted by the West than six other kingdoms. It can’t be me.”

Brienne’s heart fell at his words. There was something resigned in Tyrion’s tone that she could
relate to. A lack of acceptance and belonging that followed her throughout life, no matter her
accomplishments.

I could be the greatest warrior in all the kingdoms, but to my peers, I am just an ugly woman
playing at a knight. I could no sooner see myself earning knighthood than Tyrion can see himself
leading a kingdom as a respected liege lord.

Catelyn offered a sad smile at Jaime and shrugged. “We don’t have anyone else. The only people
who might want it would make for a terrible king.”

“Why don’t you take the crown? You’re a Tully and a Stark. There is no more honorable
combination.” Jaime’s tone was slightly mocking as he locked eyes with Catelyn. A challenging
brow raised to his hairline as he appraised the woman across the table.

Catelyn narrowed her eyes in return. “You and Brienne have just wed. You have a young wife in
her childbearing years who can produce an heir for the kingdom. A woman who three kingdoms
just fought for. Were you truly so consumed with worry for Brienne that you did not see the looks
on the faces of those under your charge? The men from the Stormlands fought for the heir to Tarth
and future Evenstar. The West fought for their Lady of the Rock and mirrored your demeanor. The
Tullys fought to see the woman returned to you as they felt responsible for having lost her. If three
kingdoms were willing to fight for you and Brienne when they still thought you little more than the
Kingslayer, imagine how they will rally to you when they hear the truth of it. The truth of Aerys.
Cersei threatens all of Westeros with her use of wildfire. You will be saving them twice from it.”

A groan rippled through Brienne’s chest. Everything that Catelyn said made sense. Jaime was able
to rally three kingdoms to his cause to aid the Starks; a House that the West hated. He was the
most qualified for the role in absence of anyone with stronger claim. All the Baratheons were dead,
leaving no one by birthright to take the crown after Cersei’s demise.

Jaime placed his elbows on the table and rubbed furiously at his forehead.

“I don’t want the crown.”

It was Sansa’s words that brought the room to a still. A heavy silence fell over them as the
youngest in attendance gave voice to the true issue at hand.

“More than you don’t want chaos in the Seven Kingdoms? How safe will Tarth be if the kingdoms
go to war with one another for the throne?”

There must be someone on the throne.

Jaime’s eyes darted to Brienne. His eyes pleaded for support or guidance. With little advice to give,
Brienne shrugged.

“What if its temporary? Just until they can find someone else more appropriate to rule.”

The words hung in the air before Jaime’s eyes traveled from Brienne to the others assembled
before them. “Well… politically minded people. This is the part where you respond. Will that
work?”

Catelyn glanced at Tyrion and Genna who didn’t quite know what to make of Brienne’s idea. With
a conciliatory shrug, the Stark matriarch played with the idea.

“If we do that, the agreement must remain among us. If the rest of Westeros hears of our intent to
immediately replace you, they may try to rebel or seek claim.”

Tyrion nodded before speaking. “Once we find someone well-suited for the crown, Jaime could
abdicate. It seems a reasonable approach. We just need to be careful that word doesn’t get out that
we’re seeking a long-term ruler. It would be viewed as treason against the crown.”

Begrudgingly, Jaime conceded to the plan after several harsh reminders that they needed to find
someone more appropriate. It was hardly the conversation that Brienne expected to find herself in
the day after her wedding.

Evenstar was quite a lot to begin with. I hardly needed all this nonsense.

They returned to their room before dinner to speak privately on the matter. Jaime was upset that his
kin and Catelyn had come into the conversation with the idea already discussed among themselves.
It felt like an ambush and in many ways, it was. He looked to her with apologetic eyes.

“I’m sorry. I did not expect that, and I hardly considered the matter of the crown in this war.”
Jaime’s shoulders rolled in slightly as he sat on the bed. She had never seen him look so lost or
dejected.

“They raised fair arguments as to why it should be you. I just wish they had other prospects that
wanted it.”

Standing from the bed, Jaime walked to Brienne and pulled her into a firm embrace. “I’ll harass
Catelyn every day on the way south to find someone else. I’ll send Tyrion a fucking raven from
every holding we pass to remind him of the same. Hells, Bronn has always wanted a castle. Seems
to me that we might find ourselves the reluctant owners of one. If they don’t bring us a proper
replacement, I’ll name him.”

Brienne snorted and felt Jaime’s body shake in laughter. It was a ridiculous idea, but quite amusing
to think on.

“Gods. Imagine the laws he would put into place.”

Shared laughter continued to bubble between them. Pulling back slightly, Jaime placed a gentle
kiss to her lips.

“Queen Wench. I quite like that. It’s as though you’re the leader of all wenches in the Seven
Kingdoms.”

An unimpressed expression flashed across Brienne’s face. Punching Jaime’s arm just hard enough
to elicit a hiss of pain, Brienne raised a brow. Jaime threw up his hands in mock surrender before
backpedaling.

“I was japing, wench. Gods.” Dropping any mirth from his tone, Jaime sighed. “You’ll need to
name a castellan.

In truth, there was only one person who came to mind. Ser Brent. Their shared memories of
Galladon had set the foundation for their blossoming friendship, but he was proving to be more
than that. Brent was beginning to feel like a brother.

“I think Ser Brent would make a fine choice. He was very loyal to my father, well respected among
the men, and he cares deeply for Tarth. My brother was friends with him, and Galladon wouldn’t
have befriended anyone cruel. It wasn’t his nature.”

Jaime nodded in agreement. “Yes, Ser Brent seems a sound choice. Hopefully he won’t need to be
in the role for long. We’ll wait until after Cersei is removed. I am holding out hope that they figure
out a better option between now and then. Lets be certain to march south very slowly.”

In truth, a slow march south was the last thing that Brienne wanted. The thought of her father’s
death was like a thorn around her heart, squeezing tighter by the day. Until she had her revenge,
she would find little rest or reprieve.

The armies moved out a day later. Word was sent to their allies of their movement, and meeting
points were established. They would meet the Riverlands forces at the crossroads. They would
meet the West further south near Hayford Castle.

Given the size of their armies, it would take just under two moon turns to reach the capital. The
only person more impatient than Brienne was the Hound. The man huffed and grumbled the
entirety of the first day’s travel.

“Fucking Lannnisters as far as the eye can see and moving a pace slower than I take a shit.”

Brienne looked to the man at her side. He was one of the few men taller than her, and his
complaints were as vast as his frame.
“You are hardly the only one eager to arrive at King’s Landing. Your brother murdered my father.
He gave him a dishonorable death which I intend to offer him in kind.”

Sandor huffed a bitter laugh. “You? Please. My brother has seen flies land harder on his back than
any hit you could deliver to him.”

“Spar me and I’ll prove how wrong your assessment is.”

Sandor snorted. “That’s one way to get my head taken off by our lord Lannister.” The way Sandor
said ‘lord’ reflected his disdain.

“Why do you ally with us if you dislike Ser Jaime?”

With barely a glance to her, Sandor spoke sternly. “If my options are that fucking lion of yours or
my shit brother, I’ll take your lion.”

Of course, Brienne understood the Cleganes to be bannermen of the West. She hardly expected
Sandor to feel obligated to serve the West given his break from the crown and the death of Lord
Tywin. Surely he could find another kingdom to settle in.

A sarcastic bite laced Brienne’s tone as she appraised the man beside her. “I was not aware that the
West was the only kingdom affording food and shelter. Surely there must be some other reason
you continue to serve House Lannister and reside in the West.”

With a hesitant glance to Brienne, Sandor shrugged. “His sister was always a cunt. The little one is
at least amusing. I suppose your lion is more like the brother. They protected the little bird. That’s
good enough for me to remain a bannerman of the West.”

Satisfied with his answer, Brienne repeated her earlier suggestion.

“Spar me when we make camp for the night. Winner gets to land the killing blow to your brother.”

Sandor laughed loudly and nodded. “As my lady of the Rock commands. Don’t go crying to your
husband when I give you a taste of House Clegane. It will not feel half as pleasant as your wedding
night.”

A slight blush colored Brienne’s cheeks, but she held firm. “Ask my husband who won our first
spar before his maiming. If you’re lucky, mayhap he’ll show you the scar at his thigh which marks
my victory. I can’t promise your mark will feel half as good as his felt when I made it.”

Spurring her horse forward, Brienne didn’t wait to see the Hound’s jaw slacken at her words.
When they made camp for the night, Brienne sought out the Hound. As they warmed up briefly, a
small group of onlookers formed, including Jaime.

Jaime’s eyes darted questioningly to them. “Uh, wench. What are you doing?”

“Sparring your bannerman for the right to split his brother in two.”

Jaime snorted and raised a brow at the Hound. “You intend to fight my wife for the right to kill
your brother?”

Sandor shrugged. “Best settle it now and get it over with. Don’t blame me if she is bitching in your
ear the rest of the way south about losing the honor.”

Jaime guffawed and yelled back to Addam. “Addam. Come see this! The Hound is about to get
even uglier.”

At Jaime’s call, Addam walked to the clearing with several of the men at his back. The addition of
the senior most commanders from the West caught the interest of the Tarth commanders and
Catelyn.

Approaching Brienne with an amused look on his face, Jaime’s eyes traced up and down her body.
“Go easy on him, wench. We need him alive enough in the tunnels.”

With a gentle kiss to her lips, Jaime smiled widely and whispered for her ears only. “He’s a dirty
fighter and he won’t yield. Don’t think that because he drops his weapon, he feels the fight lost.”

An understanding nod was the only affirmation Jaime needed to step back beside Catelyn and
Addam. “Last warning, Sandor. My wife has a bit of a temper on her, and she’s more stubborn than
the Blackfish. I don’t see this ending well for you.”

“Piss off, Kingslayer!”

Sandor spat his words as he began to circle Brienne. She studied him as she once did Jaime. It was
the way Brienne was trained. Watch you opponent for signs of weakness before attacking.

As with all men who faced Brienne, Sandor attacked first, seeking to end the fight early. Their
blades came together, and the man seemed somewhat startled by the strength in her block.

He underestimates me as they all have.

After several more exchanges, Brienne identified his style and tells. He was pure strength and no
finesse; a man accustomed to battering his opponents into submission or death.

With quick blocks and counterstrikes, Brienne quickly had Sandor on his heels. He lunged out
wildly as if trying to throw his weight at her. With a strong block almost hard enough to be
considered a strike, Brienne saw his grip loosen slightly.

She spun right and countered before his grip could tighten around the hilt of his blade. With her
sword at his neck, she barked at him. “Yield!”

A smile tugged at Sandor’s lips and he spoke through gritted teeth. “Never.”

As Jaime said he would, Sandor grabbed her wrist and moved to swing with his sword hand.
Knowing what was coming, Brienne kicked the toe of her boot into his inner thigh. It was a
warning shot, and one that sent a jolt of pain throughout his leg.

When the sword fell from his grasp, Brienne punched Sandor hard in the nose. He released
Brienne’s wrist and she quickly spun left, bringing the blade to the Hound’s neck once more.

“Yield!”

Again, Sandor grunted and lunged in protest. “No!”

Tackling Brienne to the ground, the soldiers jeered at Sandor’s dirty swordplay. Jaime screamed at
the man and was about to intercede, but Brienne grabbed a rock at her side and smashed the Hound
across the face with hit.

Visions of her father being torn apart by the Mountain consumed her thoughts as Brienne dove on
top of Sandor. As he lay on his back, cursing in pain, Brienne straddled him and again brought the
rock to his head. Threatening to strike him a third time, Sandor guffawed and put up his hands as
nose poured from his nose and temple.

“Fucking hells! I yield, woman! The miserable shit is yours. Just put down the fucking rock.”

As Brienne sat panting over him, the rock dropped form her grasp. It was then that she heard the
loud cheers of the soldiers gathered around. Jaime stared at her in awe. His chest swelled with pride
and he raised a knowing brow at Addam.

Addam guffawed loudly and yelled to the men. “Let that be a lesson to you boys! Don’t piss off
your lord or he’ll send his lady after you!”

The men began to cheer for their lady of the Rock as the Tarth contingent stood proud, looking to
their Evenstar. Ser Brent’s lips turned up at the corner. “She was ours first. That’s Evenstar of the
Rock to you.”

Sandor groaned as he sat upright. Shaking his head, he looked at Brienne with the hint of a smile
tugging at his lips. “Brienne of fucking Tarth.”
 "The crown caught a lion and a fish"
Chapter Summary

The forces arrive in at King's Landing. The small group moving towards the tunnel
sets out.

The armies arrived just west of Hayford Castle nearly two moon turns after leaving Winterfell. The
weather in the north slowed their progress towards the Neck, and the size of the army slowed them
further. When they met with the Riverlands forces at the crossroads, Jaime had felt a wave of hope
at the sight.

True to his word, the Blackfish had amassed a proper army. All told, they had amassed 13,000 men
to add to the West’s numbers. If all went according to plan, none of the soldiers would be
necessary.

Surprising to Jaime was how the Riverlands regarded him. He expected to walk through camp
hearing ‘Kingslayer’ muttered disdainfully at his back and seeing disgust line their faces. Instead,
they looked to Jaime and the Lannister bannermen with respect.

Days after merging his 8,000 men with the Riverlands’ forces, Jaime’s own men began behaving
differently around him. They looked to their lord and commander with raw pride on their faces. It
was a bewildering experience to be regarded with overt respect.

Jaime’s men had always venerated his skill and respected his status as Tywin’s heir, but this was a
different kind of respect that Jaime never before experienced. It was a respect for Jaime as a man.
A respect for Jaime the knight.

When he could take it no longer, Jaime pulled Catelyn aside and questioned her.

“Did your uncle tell his men about the plans for after Cersei is dealt with?”

Catelyn’s brows furrowed; her eyes darting towards the encampment as though searching for the
answer.

“No. We agreed not to until the time came.”

Jaime huffed in annoyance and eyed the men suspiciously. At his obvious agitation, Catelyn
questioned him. “Why do you ask? Is something wrong?”

“I don’t know. It’s just… they’re all being respectful to me. It’s unnerving. Now my own men are
acting weird.”

Something flashed in Catelyn’s eyes and she nodded her head knowingly. “Yes, I noticed it. I asked
some of my uncle’s men and they know of Aerys. Rumors have been circulating.”

Jaime’s eyes went wide. The world around him seemed to still at the words. “How? My men don’t
even know.”

With a slight chuckle, Catelyn grabbed his arm. “My uncle called the banners and when the
vassals arrived, most threatened to leave. They would not ally with you. With the Kingslayer. One
of the men used the moniker during war council, and my uncle may have… less than gently…
suggested that the man never do so again. He told them of it all, and I believe that is how the
rumors began.”

Jaime was taken aback by the information. It was one thing to hear that the entire army seemed to
know the truth of Aerys, but it was an altogether different thing to have earned Brynden Tully’s
respect.

Catelyn had japed before about how pathetic Jaime was at Riverrun so many years ago, trailing
after her uncle and desperately seeking stories of knighthood and battle. Now when Jaime looked
at Catelyn, there was no jest.

“Like me, my uncle believes it quite remarkable what you did. Of course, he’ll never say as much.
It isn’t his way. Instead he’ll just beat any man to a pulp who dares speak ill of you.”

Right then. Just nod. Nod and don’t make a big deal of it. It’s only that Ser Brynden Tully thinks
you are a worthy knight. He is only one of the greatest knights to live. This is fine.

Jaime lasted not even an hour before he sought out Brienne and bragged at the Blackfish’s respect
for him. For her part, Brienne offered an appeasing smiled and patted his shoulder as though
praising a child who just wiped their own ass for the first time.

“That’s nice for you.”

Of course, Jaime knew that she was proud of him. It was in the way she defended him to those who
didn’t know, and how her eyes shone with pride when Jaime continued to make honorable
decisions.

As they moved south, they made certain to be loud about it. They wanted word to get to Cersei that
armies representing two of the most powerful kingdoms marched against her. It was imperative
that Cersei looked north to the kingsroad, and not below her feet to the tunnels.

Meeting with the additional bannermen from the West, Jaime conferred with his army’s senior
most commanders. In total, the West had 14,000 men. Every vassal responded to the call. All
Houses had heard of Cersei’s descent into madness and the death of Lord Emmon Frey and his
heirs.

After making their final plans for battle, the small group that would enter the tunnel prepared to
ride out. Scouts would listen for the bells to toll, signaling the queen’s demise.

Outside the capital, Ser Brynden would lead the Riverlands forces and Ser Addam would lead the
West. Inside the city, Jaime’s group included Brienne, Catelyn, the Hound, Ser Brent, and Bronn.

Scouts had returned from the city gates reporting the presence of the Reach outside the city. By
their estimate, the Reach had 40,000 awaiting the incoming threat. The kingdom had lost many in
the war with Dorne, but Jaime was surprised at the remaining strength of their army.

While the West was busy squabbling with the North and Riverlands, the Reach grew wealthier and
healthier. Fucking roses. ‘Growing strong’ indeed.

The scouts also brought word of the southern armies. On their march down the kingsroad, Catelyn
and Jaime received a missive brought from Darry. Tyrion and Genna had found a way to safely
communicate with the Rock. They sent missives to Oxcross and riders brought word directly to
Daven.
The Lannisters encouraged Daven to question their most trusted informants at the Rock for word
of who survived in Dorne. Once they received the information they sought, Tyrion began
correspondence with Dorne.

The Dornish had been decimated at the hands of the Reach. Tensions between the two kingdoms
had reached unprecedented levels and Tyrion sought to take advantage of that. Using the anger
towards the crown and the Reach, Tyrion convinced Dorne to send any fighters north.

While Dorne’s fighters were not as traditionally organized as the other kingdoms, they had 3,000
willing and able to move against the crown. Their fighters would join roughly 4,000 battle-weary
Stormlanders who answered the call.

At word of the attack on Tarth and the vicious murder of Lord Tarth, the Stormlands Houses
agreed to return their fatigued forces against the crown. They would merge with their hesitant allies
from Dorne just south of the capital.

Like the Reach, the Stormlands had a strained relationship with Dorne. They situation was made
bearable by a common enemy. The extra 7,000 men waited northeast of Tumbleton and would only
attack when instructed.

Now Jaime’s small group moved quietly towards the Blackwater where a small boat awaited them.
Jaime had written ahead to West’s latest arrivals, ordering them to procure a small fishing vessel on
the river that could accommodate roughly half a dozen.

Making their way south on horseback, Jaime leaned against Brienne’s ear and teased. “Will you
paddle us down river again, wench? I would quite enjoy that.”

A swift elbow to the side reminded Jaime that Brienne was not to be trifled with. His wife was the
image of focus with one goal in mind.

Kill the Mountain.

When they arrived at the riverbed, the group tied up the four horses provided to them. Their cloaks
concealed their movements in the dark of night as they moved into the boat. Everything was as
requested.

A traditional fisherman’s boat with crates and supplies was tied off at a small harbor. The large
cloth covering over a section of the vessels which served to keep a day’s catch from rotting was
draped over the back.

It was decided that Jaime and the women should hide under the covering at approach. The women
would be an unusual sight on the boat, and Jaime’s features were too recognizable.

Ser Brent, Bronn, and the Hound would sail the boat passed the harbor and to the area described
by Jaime at the base of Aegon’s Hill.

To most, they would appear little more than fishermen headed out to sea, praying to the Seven to
make an early catch. Jaime, Catelyn, and Brienne moved under the cover and laid on their
stomachs.

The cloth stunk of decaying fish and Jaime’s nose scrunched in distaste. Looking to Brienne, he
could see her going a bit green around the edges from the smell.

It was one of the things that amused Jaime endlessly about Brienne. For someone who grew up on
an island and loved eating fish, Brienne could not handle the smell of a rotting fish carcass.
At his right side, Catelyn’s shoulder bumped against Jaime as she got into a more comfortable
position. Jaime could do little more than smirk as quips entered his mind. “Stinks like Tully in this
bloody boat.”

“Do not start with me now. I may forget which Lannister I’m to kill.”

Jaime gasped in mock horror and turned to Brienne. “Did you hear that, wench? Lady Catelyn just
threatened your life.”

Rolling her eyes, Brienne ignored Jaime’s amused smile. Even in marriage, Brienne remained
neutral in the constant banter between Jaime and Catelyn.

“Brienne, you’ll need a new king after I murder this one. I think Jon would make a fine match.”

“You know what, Catelyn. That hurt. You speak treason against your king, and now I have no
option but to punish you accordingly. You’ll be my Hand for that.”

Catelyn chuckled at his side and shook her head. “Gods you’re a dolt.”

With a glance to Brienne, Jaime could see she was trying to ignore them. Her mind was already
playing out the battle to come. Reaching out with his hand, he curled his fingers around hers. The
touch shook Brienne from her thoughts and their eyes met.

When Brienne saw the mischief in his eyes, her face dropped slightly. Jaime turned his head back
to Catelyn and whispered.

“The more I think on it, the better an idea it sounds. You shall be my first appointment to the small
council. Of course, if you won’t be Hand, then I simply won’t be king. I’m too big of a dolt to rule
without some self-righteous Tully telling me what to do.”

More laughter spilled from Catelyn’s lips as the men above shushed them. The Hound’s gruff
voice spoke through gritted teeth.

“Quiet. Fish aren’t supposed to talk.”

Jaime snickered and spoke loud enough for the Hound to hear. “Were that true, Westeros would be
better off for it. Explain that to this annoying Tully at my side.”

A sharp pinch to his arm jolted Jaime. “Ow. What the hells.”

Catelyn’s eyes flashed with irritation. “Shut up.”

Before they could continue bickering, something smacked Jaime’s head from above the cloth
covering. Bronn’s distinct snickering filled the small boat.

“Oops. My bad. Ya alright in there, princess? We gettin’ close to port now, so do shut up.”

Grumbling as he rubbed his head, Jaime could feel Catelyn’s shoulder shaking with laughter. His
eyes darted to Brienne who was lost in thought again.

In truth, Jaime wanted a distraction. He didn’t want to sit in silence and think of what was to come.
Genna’s voice echoed in the back of his mind as the water lapped against the edges of the boat.

‘Stop acting like you don’t care how this ends for Cersei.’

Jaime would do anything to protect Brienne. He would do anything to avenge her island and father,
but Jaime’s mind was like the sea churned up after a storm. He wondered if they could simply
imprison Cersei or send her to the Silent Sisters.

When the time came, Jaime knew that he would kill Cersei if he had to, but he began to fear that he
would live with guilt as Catelyn and Genna warned him. As visions of Cersei dying by his hand
tormented Jaime, he had not realized how tightly his fingers were gripping Brienne’s.

Jaime felt Brienne tug his hand closer to her. She rubbed soothing circles onto his knuckle which
served to ground and relax Jaime from his spiraling thoughts. It was as though she could sense his
inner turmoil.

Mumbling for his ears only, she began peppering him with questions. Jaime smiled inwardly
knowing that she already knew the answer, and her intent was only to distract him.

‘How many Queensguard will be outside the room. What level of the Keep does the tunnel spill out
into? How many guards roam the halls at night?’

It was on the last question that Brienne got a curious look on her face as Jaime gave his answer. His
brows furrowed as he finished his sentence, but it was clear that Brienne’s mind was elsewhere.

“Jaime, remember at the Twins how you tricked Walder’s guards by having us appear as
prisoners…”

Gods. She’s perfect. My wife is a genius.

A wide smile spread across Jaime’s face. “I know where we can get some extra armor of the City
Watch in the Keep. We might need to kill a few dolts to get it.”

Brienne nodded knowingly and spoke in hushed tones. “You and Lady Stark? No, Ser Brent and
Lady Stark. You shouldn’t be in the room for that.”

Jaime shook his head. “No. I can’t risk the Queensguard recognizing me. Besides, you all have the
Mountain to deal with.”

At Jaime’s side, Catelyn nudged him. “What are you two on about?”

Not taking his eyes off Brienne, Jaime smiled widely. “The crown caught a lion and a fish.”
 "Ignite the wildfire"
Chapter Summary

The group arrives at the tunnel and makes their way into the Keep.

“That is your second worst idea of the day, only after japing at me being Hand.”

Catelyn huffed in annoyance as their group stood at the edge of the tunnel leading into the Keep.
With a look of disbelief, the Stark matriarch glared at Jaime. A light chuckle pushed passed his lips
as he shrugged.

“It’s Brienne’s idea. Are you calling my wench a dolt too?”

“I am not saying the prisoner idea is bad. It’s quite better than simply marching up to two
Queensguard with swords drawn. I’m saying it is a horrible idea for you to be in the room with me.
Just pretend you’re a guard too. You’ll have a damn helm on.”

Truly, am I the only who sees how awful this idea is?

Jaime scoffed and raised his golden hand. “What would you have me do with this? Sprout a new
hand?”

“How do you not have a glove? Surely if we can acquire gold cloaks, armor, and helms in the
Keep, we can find you a glove. How are you only just now thinking of hiding that thing?”

Catelyn followed Jaime as he began to move forward into the tunnel. His mumbling protest echoed
slightly off the walls and served as a reminder to all that quiet was of the utmost importance.
Moving close to his side, Catelyn whispered.

“Truly, you shouldn’t be in the room. They are no more likely to recognize you as a guard than the
Hound. He’s taller than Brienne. Promise me. Just stay out of the room.”

The idea had been for Bronn and Brent to escort the ‘prisoners’ into the room with Cersei, but
Jaime felt the Queensguard was too disciplined for that. They would not allow two prisoners into
the queen’s chambers with mere Gold Cloaks to keep her safe; particularly if one of the prisoners
was their former brother at arms, the Kingslayer.

Jaime thought it more likely that the Queensguard may insist on escorting them in, or at least that
was how he would have handled the situation.

From his perspective, dressing as Gold Cloaks only served to afford them more time until the
Queensguard realized what was going on. It would not be a game they could maintain for long
once outside Cersei’s chambers.

With a heavy sigh, Jaime relented. He would play the part of a guard and do everything he could to
mask his golden hand. A wave of relief pass through Catelyn at knowledge that Jaime would not
be inside the same room with Cersei.

It wasn’t that Catelyn didn’t trust Jaime. She knew that he would never betray them; particularly
Brienne. Instead she worried that Jaime would falter.

Part of Catelyn thought Jaime might consider Cersei’s appeals to spare her life. Another part of
Catelyn worried at what kinslaying his own twin and former lover might do to Jaime.

Making their way up through the Keep, the group moved stealthily at Jaime’s back. The further
they moved into the tunnel, the faster Catelyn’s heart beat.

Before leaving camp, she had been given two concealed daggers. Brienne insisted on two; one at
her hip and one concealed in her boot.

Considering her approach with Cersei, Catelyn decided to play at captivity to lure the queen in. She
would not immediately reveal her false restraint, but she would wait for Cersei to approach.

Like the rest of her House, Cersei’s arrogance would likely have the queen take trusting steps
forward. Catelyn would make quick work by slitting Cersei’s throat. True to her word, Catelyn
would honor the promise to make the act as quick and painless as possible.

When they arrived at the lowest level of the Keep, Jaime ordered them to extinguish their torches
so as not to draw unwanted attention. They slipped along the darkened corridor towards a location
that Jaime had in mind.

Coming to a stop outside a room, Catelyn could hear laughter on the other side. Putting a finger to
his mouth, Jaime indicated they should remain quiet as he pressed his ear to the door. He listened
for a moment and signaled ‘three’ to the fighters among them.

Brent, Brienne, Bronn, and the Hound unsheathed their weapons from below their cloaks. As
Jaime’s hand came to the door, he urged Catelyn behind him. With a final look to the four prepared
to kill those on the other side, Jaime nodded and pulled open the door before shutting it behind
them to muffle the screams.

The fight was quick and despite some muted shouts from the men on the other side, their group
made quick work of the guards. Catelyn and Jaime moved into the room quickly and appraised the
space.

Catelyn realized where they were. As Jaime indicated, it appeared to be the room used by the Gold
Cloaks between shifts. There was a wall of armor, cloaks, and weapons that would provide
everything they needed.

Everyone save Catelyn donned armor and helms before finding chains to place her in. It was
slightly unnerving to see their group dressed as gold cloaks.

Jaime took one look at the Hound and groaned. Sandor barely fit in his armor and Catelyn
understood Jaime’s reaction. He was too recognizable.

“Gods. He looks like a cow trying to hide amongst sheep. That’s never going to work. If his
brother is on guard, we’ll be figured out before we’re halfway down the corridor.”

The Hound’s lips curled in anger as he glared at Jaime. “Fuck you, Kingslayer. You think that wife
of yours is somehow less conspicuous? I’ve never seen a Gold Cloak with tits before.”

Catelyn looked to Brienne and sighed. It wasn’t that her chest was the problem. It was her height.
Like the Hound, the armor didn’t fall properly, and her hips were slightly accentuated.

Gods. This is hopeless. Even in this armor, our game will be figured out.
Jaime stood before the Hound and snarled at him. “I doubt they’ll be looking at her chest. Perhaps
you should stop doing so.”

“Enough! We need to move quickly.” Catelyn brought their attention back to the task at hand. She
glanced to the bodies at their feet and sighed. “What do we do about this?”

Catelyn watched as Jaime crouched to the floor and began pulling equipment off the bottom shelf.

“We need to move the bodies to these bottom shelves and cover them with our cloaks. We can try
and stack equipment in front of them, but this will only afford us so much time. Hopefully the next
group of guards are as idiotic as these three.”

They quickly moved the bodies where Jaime instructed. It was a decent enough job that it should
pass for long enough while they moved towards Cersei’s room.

Before leaving the room, they agreed that should any guards stop them along the way, Brent was
to do the talking. As a woman, Brienne couldn’t, or it would give away the scheme. The voices of
the Hound and Jaime would be far too recognizable, and Bronn simply could not be trusted to
speak.

When they entered the hallway where Cersei’s room was, the Hound would need to hold back and
remain out of sight. It was too risky with his height and frame to have him approach the guards
outside Cersei’s chambers.

Making their way up another level, the group moved quickly towards the next set of stairs. Along
the way, Catelyn heard the familiar voice of Qyburn drifting through the darkened corridor.

Rumors had swirled of the disgraced maester’s involvement in Cersei’s scheming. A deep hatred
rippled through Catelyn as she recalled the time spent with the man they briefly trusted.

It seemed Jaime heard Qyburn’s voice too. He brought their progress to a halt and inclined his head
in the direction of Qyburn’s voice. Whispering to their group, he spoke urgently.

“We need him. He’s in Cersei’s ear and it will make more sense if he leads us to her. It will be less
suspicious than random Gold Cloaks showing up unannounced to her chambers with a prisoner.”

Catelyn huffed at the idea. “We don’t have time for all that. Besides, he would only alert them of
our intent.”

Without responding, Jaime moved quickly towards the room that Qyburn’s voice drifted from. It
took everything in Catelyn not to scream at him. She watched as he reached for the dagger at his
hip and peered into the room.

Whoever Qyburn was speaking with must have concerned Jaime very little. He seemed to be
waiting for something before moving quickly into the room. When Catelyn ran in after Jaime, she
saw him pinning Qyburn to the wall. Jaime’s gold hand was shoved into the man’s mouth,
preventing him from screaming.

Blood trickled down Qyburn’s lip as Jaime spoke through gritted teeth.

“If you scream, I’m going to slit your throat. Do you understand?”

The aged maester nodded slightly as Catelyn moved beside Jaime. He continued speaking as the
rest of their group moved into the room and shut the door. Looking around the room, Catelyn
wondered at who Qyburn had been speaking to. There was not a soul in sight.
“Now listen to me. Cersei is not going to win this war. I know you’re aware of how many opposing
soldiers stand outside the gates. Your queen is going to meet the Stranger within the hour. With
your cooperation, she dies, and you will get to leave. Without your cooperation, she will still die,
and you will be there to welcome her into the Seven Hells. Do you understand?”

Again, the aged maester nodded in fear. Jaime’s eyes sparkled with victory as he caught sight of
the pin of the Hand at Qyburn’s chest. Jaime glanced to Catelyn triumphantly.

Their sources were correct. Qyburn was more than in Cersei’s ear. He was the neck and she the
head.

“Our little group here is about to take a walk to your queen’s chambers. You are going to ensure
our prisoner, Lady Catelyn, gains access to Cersei’s room. If you try anything, we will see to it that
your death is far more painful than what we gave to your friends in the North. There are far more
of us than there will be guards for Cersei. Do you understand?”

Qyburn nodded slowly as Jaime removed his golden hand from the man’s mouth. “Perfect. I’m so
glad we can work together again. Now walk forward and keep your mouth shut until we arrive at
Cersei’s room. This dagger will find it’s way into your spine if you so much as sneeze.”

Shoving Qyburn from the room, Jaime stood just to the disgraced maester’s right with his dagger at
the man’s back. Catelyn walked behind Qyburn and kept her eyes fixed on the blade in Jaime’s
hand.

They moved silently towards Cersei’s room as planned. Bronn stood to Qyburn’s left while
Brienne and Brent flanked Catelyn. At Catelyn’s back, the Hound tried to keep his head down and
avoid curious eyes from anyone they may come across.

When they reached the corridor that Cersei’s room was connected to, Jaime glanced around the
corner.

“Gregor is there. Sandor, stay back here.”

With a slight grumble, Sandor moved against the wall as though he were standing guard. The rest
of their group continued forward, and Jaime kept his right arm behind his back and beneath the
gold cloak to conceal the gold hand.

Catelyn prayed that the helms and armor would be enough to disguise Jaime. She began to have
doubts about making him pretend at a guard rather than a prisoner.

He knows these Queensguard too well, particularly Gregor. Will that be our undoing?

On approach, the Mountain rounded on them. “What the fuck do you want? Her Grace has taken
rest for the night.”

“Yes, I’m quite aware of the hour. We’ve brought her Grace a gift that will be worth the
interruption.” Qyburn inclined his head towards Catelyn as Gregor appraised the prisoner. A chill
ran down Catelyn’s spine at how the man looked her over.

He was a vile man with little regard for human life. Catelyn felt a deep unease at the thought of
Brienne facing the man. The size of the Mountain alone could be Brienne’s undoing, but it was his
inhuman strength that the man was renowned for. From the other side of the door, Catelyn could
hear a man grunting wildly.

Gods. Do not let Jaime lose it now. He has done so well for this long.
Catelyn kept her eyes trained on the dagger at Qyburn’s back. She noted how Jaime’s grip
tightened slightly at the sounds from the other side of the door.

“If the queen asks for your head, I’ll give it to her.” Without another word, Gregor knocked on the
door. A man’s voice cursed on the other side and movement could be heard. Footsteps approached
the door and Catelyn heard the distinct sound of the door unlatching.

Glancing up, Catelyn saw a man she didn’t recognize wearing naught but loose breeches. His body
was covered in sweat and his face was aflame with anger.

“What the fuck?”

With a slight nudge from Jaime’s blade, Qyburn’s voice was flat as he met the man’s eyes. “A
prisoner that needs her Grace’s immediate attention.”

“Can’t this wait!?”

“No, my lord. I have Lady Catelyn Stark here.”

With a huff, the man looked behind him and grunted in irritation before pulling open the door to
grant them entry. Jaime quickly retracted the blade at Qyburn’s back and pulled his left arm under
his cloak. Qyburn stepped into the room as Bronn grabbed Catelyn’s arm and tugged her inside.

Gods. Jaime, please stay put.

Stepping into the darkened room, Catelyn saw the queen standing in a robe near the balcony with a
glass of wine in hand. A vicious smirk stretched across her face as Qyburn, a disguised Bronn, and
Catelyn entered.

“Well, isn’t this a lovely surprise. Ser Baelor, have you had the pleasure of meeting Lady Stark
before?”

Ser Baelor. Baelor Hightower? Gods. That’s how she kept the Reach.

Catelyn knew of Ser Baelor. He was the eldest son and heir to Hightower. Rumors told that he was
once considered as a match for Elia Martell, but he made a most unfortunate first impression.

His was a highly regarded House with great ambitions. It made sense to Catelyn that he would ally
with Cersei after House Tyrell was disposed of. House Hightower boasted the greatest military
strength in the Reach, and their wealth was second only to the Lannisters.

“I have not, your Grace.”

The knight eyed Catelyn suspiciously. When his hands dropped to her wrists, Catelyn worried that
he may notice the loose chains that her group had placed. Fortunately, Cersei’s words brought his
attention back to her.

“Well its no matter now. She won’t have long for this world. Qyburn, where was she captured? Our
scouts reported their forces at Hayford Castle and to the south. What of my brothers and that cow?”

Before Qyburn could speak, Catelyn smiled and spoke confidently. “You mean the Lord and Lady
Lannister? They’re quite well. Likely busy enjoying their marital bed. They can hardly keep their
hands off each other.”

At Catelyn’s words, Cersei’s features dropped into a deep scowl. She stormed across the room and
slapped Catelyn across the face. A slight metallic taste filled Catelyn’s mouth. A dabble of blood
lined her lip where Cersei’s ring had caught the flesh.

Catelyn slowly turned her head to meet Cersei’s fiery gaze. An amused smile stretched across the
Stark matriarch’s lips.

With a snarl, Cersei stepped impossibly closer and glared at Catelyn. “My brother will return to
me. He always does. He is mine.”

“Odd. I did hear him quite confidently state ‘she is mine’, although I regret to inform you that the
sentiment was expressed to another woman. I was there to hear his words as I was there to watch
him fight for her. His true love. I was witness to it all alongside my children. Children you sought
to torture and send to the Stranger. You meant to tear my family apart, but you only managed to
destroy your own.”

Without taking her eyes off Catelyn, Cersei’s lips curled in distaste. “Ser Baelor. I want her head.”

The knight at Catelyn’s right moved towards his sword that was resting against the corner table.
Catelyn heard Bronn unsheathe his sword as her own hands dropped to her hip. Feeling for the
dagger below her cloak, Catelyn wrapped her fingers around the hilt.

In one fluid motion, Catelyn brought up her hands to cut across Cersei’s throat, but Qyburn’s hands
shoved her arms just out of the way. A sword came slicing towards Catelyn’s head as she stumbled
slightly, but Bronn’s blade met the threat before Catelyn felt its steel.

The two men began to fight at Catelyn’s back as she dove for Cersei, tackling the queen to the
ground. She grabbed Cersei’s short, blonde hair and smashing it into the floor. It all happened so
quickly that Catelyn hardly had time to register what Qyburn was doing at her back.

A grunt from over Catelyn’s shoulder alerted her to the man’s presence. Something hard came
down on Catelyn’s head and the world faded to black. The last thing Catelyn heard was Cersei’s
rage-filled command.

“Ignite the wildfire.”

 "I’ve very little patience left"
Chapter Summary

The group fights for their lives in the Keep and tries to prevent harm to anyone outside
the city.

Chapter Notes

Warning: Parts of this get a bit gory.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Sweat beaded on Jaime’s brow as he peered up at the Mountain from under his helm. Only
moments earlier, Catelyn, Bronn, and Qyburn had moved inside Cersei’s room, leaving the rest of
their group outside.

Jaime had hardly been surprised to hear Cersei’s political negotiations from the other side of the
chamber door. She was a woman who knew how to use her body to get her way; a fact that Jaime
was all too familiar with.

Less surprising was the sight of Ser Baelor at Cersei’s door. House Hightower had the largest
military contingent of the Reach. They were a powerful vassal led by an older lord who refused to
die. Lord Leyton was on his fourth wife and showed no signs of slowing.

Typical Cersei. She likely offered Baelor title of Warden and Highgarden.

At Jaime’s side, Brienne’s hand gripped tightly around the hilt of her sword. The set of her stance
told Jaime that she was prepared to attack the moment she heard a commotion on the other side.
Jaime prayed to the Seven that Brienne could steady her hand for long enough to let the group
inside the room lead the way.

Jaime knew the Queensguard at the Mountain’s side.

Ser Osmund fucking Kettleblack.

Tyrion had told Jaime of Cersei’s infidelities during his imprisonment. The younger Lannister
knew of Cersei’s dealings with the Kettleblack brothers and while Tyrion knew one of them to be
sleeping with Cersei, he was uncertain about Osmund.

Before leaving Winterfell, Jaime discussed the known members of the Queensguard with Brent,
Brienne, and Bronn. Should they need to face the men in single combat, Jaime shared the
weaknesses and strengths of each Queensguard.

Jaime told them of Osmund’s reach with a blade on account of his height, and that his appointment
to the guard had been questionable. Of course, Tyrion offered his own idea as to why Osmund was
given such a prestigious cloak.
Osmund was a tall man. He stood just above Jaime and Brienne, but not so tall as the Mountain.
The Queensguard appraised their group suspiciously before his eyes landed on Brienne.

“Bloody Gold Cloaks. Can’t even find proper armor, can you? That set barely comes to your
navel.”

Shit. Please, don’t speak Brienne.

Thankfully, her lips remained firmly pressed together as Brent spoke on her behalf.

“Not all of us have an in with the queen.”

At Brent’s words, Jaime didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. The comment was sure to provoke
Osmund, but Jaime was uncertain if the nod to Osmund’s relationship with the queen would make
their cover as Gold Cloaks any more or less believable. Rumors passed through the City Watch as
quickly as ale through tavern patrons. For a Gold Cloak to know something of a new Queensguard
was not unusual.

Taking a menacing step forward, Osmund glared at Brent. Before the knight from Tarth could
reply, Osmund’s hand was flying at the man’s face. The helm clattered to the floor, but before
Osmund could reach for his blade, Brienne’s dagger was in his neck.

Seven hells.

As Osmund fell to his knees, choking on his own blood, the Mountain growled and swung his
massive fist at Brienne’s head. Like Brent’s helm had, Brienne’s went scattering to the stone floor.
When the Mountain took one look at her face, his eyes went wide as he unsheathed his sword.

Jaime unsheathed his own sword and called out to the Hound.

“Sandor! Now!”

At Jaime’s words, they began to engage the Mountain as Sandor sprinted towards them with his
blade held high.

Realizing he was outnumbered, the Mountain called for reinforcements. From down a connecting
hallway, two Gold Cloaks appeared. Their eyes went wide in realization and they ran to his aid.
Before Jaime could land a blow to the Mountain, he heard Cersei’s voice scream from the other
side of the door.

“Ignite the wildfire!”

What!? What has she done?

The door to Cersei’s room opened and Qyburn went scurrying out. Jaime turned to grab the man,
but the Mountain’s blade caught the edge of his calf, dropping Jaime to one knee.

Grimacing, Jaime turned to block a counterstrike from the Mountain, but Brienne blocked him as
the Hound and Ser Brent made quick work of the Gold Cloaks.

With frantic eyes, Brienne looked to Jaime. It seemed that Jaime was not the only one to hear
Cersei’s ominous command.

“Stop Qyburn! Go!”

Jaime took off down the hall, blood pooling in his boot where the Mountain had sliced through his
flesh. Catching up to the disgraced maester proved easy enough, but it was the sight of four Gold
Cloaks surrounding Qyburn that made Jaime take pause.

Unable to risk Qyburn slipping passed them and following his orders, Jaime charged ahead. He
made quick work of the first two guards before barely ducking under the third’s blade. Dropping to
one knee, Jaime shoved his sword into the man’s exposed neck.

The man twitched under Jaime’s blade and the telltale sound of life leaving his opponent’s body
filled the hallway. Qyburn ran towards the stairs as Jaime engaged the fourth guard.

Realizing who Jaime was, the man swallowed thickly and took a defensive step back. In two quick
movements, Jaime’s blade was gliding across the man’s neck; blood spraying into the air as the
man collapsed at Jaime’s feet.

Jaime sprinted towards the stairs and again caught up to Qyburn. With his golden hand, Jaime
smacked the man’s head into the wall which sent Qyburn falling down six stairs. His head bounced
off the stone floor, leaving him stunned.

“That was not cooperating.” Jaime moved quickly down the stairs and dropped his blade at
Qyburn’s side. Grabbing Qyburn by the robes, Jaime snarled at him.

“Does anyone else have the orders!?”

With a desperate look in his eyes, Qyburn shook his head in refute.

“Good. Now be a good Hand and go greet Cersei in the Seven Hells.”

Stepping back, Jaime picked up his sword and stabbed Qyburn through the chest. The man writhed
under his blade before stilling in death. Worry filled Jaime’s mind as he raced back up the stairs to
aid the group.

The shouts of guards filled the hallway as Jaime turned left down the corridor that Cersei’s room
was attached to. Jaime’s eyes went wide at the sight. Brienne, the Hound, and Brent were fighting
the Mountain and a dozen guards.

Over a dozen already lay dead at their feet as the fighting continued back and forth in front of
Cersei’s room. Running towards them, Jaime heard Bronn scream in agony from inside the room.
After cutting through two men, Jaime peered into the dimly lit room.

Ser Baelor lay dead on the floor, but three Gold Cloaks had Bronn pinned to the wall. One of the
men’s swords twisted into Bronn’s side as the sellsword slumped to the ground. Jaime’s eyes
darted around the room.

Cersei stood cowering in the corner and Catelyn was unconscious on the ground. The Stark
matriarch appeared to be coming to. Catelyn grabbed her head and moaned in pain as blood
trickled down the left side of her head and neck.

Running to Bronn’s aid, Jaime sliced through the leg of one of the guards. Blood sprayed onto the
walls as the man fell to the floor, clutching at his stump.

Before the next man could turn to face him, Jaime’s blade was through the guard’s neck. Quickly
retracting his blade, Jaime faced the third guard.

His steel found the exposed flesh where the breastplate did not afford coverage to the guard. As the
man slumped to the ground with the others, Jaime turned to face his twin. With no one remaining
in the room save Catelyn and Cersei, Jaime stalked forward.

Green eyes locked on green eyes as Cersei gasped. Her hand came up defensively the closer that
Jaime came.

“Jaime. Please. You can’t harm me. We’re meant to be together. My love.”

Furry coursed through Jaime as his flesh hand came to her throat. Pent up emotions from years
without Cersei at his side took hold of him.

He remembered the pain at being separated from Cersei. He remembered the betrayal when he
heard of her infidelities. He remembered the hurt when she turned from his stump in disgust. He
remembered the shock at being accused in their father’s death. He remembered the anger when his
love, her father, and her island, had been targeted by Cersei’s jealousy.

“You are not my love. You tried to kill my love. You tried to kill me. You killed our children.”

Jaime’s voice broke at the reference to Tommen and Myrcella. They were the best of them. The
only good that came of their sick, twisted affair.

Cersei choked as Jaime’s hand tightened around her neck. Under the strength of his grip, Cersei’s
face reddened, and tears pooled in her eyes. When tears spilled over the edges of her lashes, Jaime
felt his own eyes mist.

Even as a boy, Jaime hated seeing Cersei cry. Memories of running through the fields together and
playing in the Keep at the Rock flashed through his mind. He missed the sweet girl he grew up
with. Not the mad, vile creature she had become.

Forcing himself to look away from Cersei’s desperate eyes, Jaime brought his gold hand against his
flesh hand to force it in place. He choked on his own sobs as he felt the life beginning to leave
Cersei’s body.

Cersei’s body twitched and her hands came to his wrists. A strangled plea pushed past her lips.
Lips he once lived to kiss.

“Jaime. Please.”

Jaime’s shoulders shook with tears as he refused to look at Cersei. Then he felt a pair of hands
tugging hard at his shoulders.

“Jaime! No! Let go of her!”

I can’t. She’ll kill Brienne. She’ll take away everything I love.

When he didn’t budge, Catelyn struck the hilt of the blade against Jaime’s temple, forcing his grip
to loosen from Cersei’s neck. Stumbling slightly, Jaime grabbed at his head and he heard Cersei
gasp for air.

An overwhelming relief hit Jaime at the realization that he had not killed Cersei. From the corner
of his eye, Jaime saw Cersei reach out for his arm. Despite his effort, her breathing had not
stopped, but her tears had.

Before Cersei’s dainty hands could grab Jaime, Catelyn slammed Cersei back into the wall and
barked orders at Jaime.
“Jaime! Look away!”

Catelyn didn’t need to tell Jaime twice. His body was weary from the emotional burden of having
nearly killed his own twin. Catelyn’s left hand covered the Cersei’s mouth and the edges of her lips
curled into a protective snarl.

“He is not yours anymore. My family will never again be yours to hurt. The lone lioness dies, but
my pack survives.”

Catelyn’s blade cut through the delicate flesh at Cersei’s neck. Jaime knew the sound. He had
heard it innumerable times before when he felled enemies by his own blade.

A gurgling sound fought to push passed Catelyn’s palm where it was pressed firm against Cersei’s
lips. As Catelyn kept her hand in place, she guided Cersei’s crumbling body to the floor.

Rushing across the room to the queen’s bed, Catelyn draped the silks over Cersei’s body as it
twitched and struggled for breath. Falling to his knees not far from Cersei’s dying body, Jaime
buried his head in his hands and sobbed.

They had come into the world together, but they would leave it separately. It went against
everything that Cersei ingrained in him. A pair of arms wrapped firmly around Jaime and shushed
him. Catelyn’s soothing voice whispered into his head.

“It’s alright. Jaime, it’s over. She’s at rest now.”

It hurt more than Jaime expected. He didn’t need to see Cersei take her last breath. He felt it. There
was a part of them that would always be connected. A bond between twins was something that
Jaime always struggled to explain to others. Even when they were angry with one another, they
could feel the other’s despair.

Jaime mourned his twin as he should have. Not as a lover, but as kin. More than anything, Jaime
just wanted Brienne. He wanted to hold her and have her tell him that everything would be alright.
That the ache in his heart would subside.

Brienne.

Visions of Brienne fighting for her life outside the room propelled Jaime to his feet. Grabbing his
sword on his way out from the room, Jaime ran into the hallway. His eyes went wide at the carnage
before him.

Bodies littered the floor as the Mountain was on his knees, swaying and in shock. His arms had
been hacked off at each side and one of his eyes was missing. The Mountain’s body was riddled
with stab wounds as though he was a human sewing project.

Brent was leaning against the wall, clutching at a wound at his side. It didn’t appear life
threatening and the man’s face with awash with rage. He glared at the Mountain who kneeled
before his Evenstar. Righting himself and moving to stand at Brienne’s side, Brent looked down at
the man before them.

Taking a slow step back from his brother, Sandor glanced to Brienne and nodded. Like Brent, the
Hound was panting from exertion.

Brienne stared down at the Mountain. Without seeing her face, Jaime could feel her rage when she
spoke.
 “You pillaged my island. You tortured my father. But know this. You can never defeat Tarth. I
want you to remember that when you’re burning in whichever of the Seven Hells sees fit to claim
you.”

Pulling back her arm, Brienne shoved her blade straight through the Mountain’s skull. Brain matter
flew out from the other side as her blade exited the back of his skull. The Mountain’s body
convulsed before falling backwards to the ground.

The sound of clanging armor and approaching soldiers filled the hallway. Jaime glanced to his left
to observe a sea of Gold Cloaks moving towards them from all angles. They were led by the
remaining Queensguard who stood with swords drawn.

Jaime had not noticed Catelyn at his side until she stepped forward and spoke commandingly.

“Queen Cersei is dead. Her brother, Ser Jaime, is king now. Stand down and spare further
bloodshed.”

The Queensguard looked hesitant. With their queen dead, they had no reason to fight just as they
had no reason to stand down. Their queen was murdered, and Jaime imagined they felt honor
bound to kill them to the last. The numbers were still on their side. Shockingly, it was Brienne who
stepped forward and spoke.

Her voice was laced with anger as she yanked her sword from the Mountain’s head. The
Queensguard and Gold Cloaks looked to her with a mix of shock and horror as their eyes fell to the
Mountain’s lifeless form.

“Your mad queen ordered Qyburn to ignite the wildfire. Ser Jaime stopped them and saved you
twice over. Stand down or by the Seven I will kill you all myself. I’ve very little patience left.”

Chapter End Notes

Well as usual, this fic really got away from me word count wise. I'll cut it at the next
chapter and then immediately post part 2 (seasons 6ish-8) for anyone interested in it.
 “Long May He Reign”
Chapter Summary

The day of Jaime's coronation arrives.

Chapter Notes

A little summary leading into part 2.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Jaime’s fingers tapped on the wooden table in the corner of the room overlooking King’s Landing.
Today he would be coronated in the same room that he killed his king. The same room where his
deceased sons and sister took the crown.

It had been a moon turn since war was narrowly avoided. Word had quickly spread throughout the
city of what Cersei planned to do. Qyburn had devised several modified ballistae that would launch
barrels of wildfire onto the enemy. After the barrels fell onto the enemy, a group of pre-selected
archers were to set the liquid ablaze once it coated the enemy’s ranks.

An alchemist summoned to King’s Landing to help dispose of the substance believed that the blast
likely would have been so great, that even the Reach’s forces would have succumbed to its flames.
Cersei had cared little for all that, however. She wanted an uncontested crown and her enemies
dead.

As the door to Jaime’s room opened, a wide smile stretched across his face. “Wench! By the
gods… is that… are you wearing a dress?”

Brienne gave Jaime a warning glare. “Your aunt did this to me. She said that I had to be queenly
today. I hardly understand what that means, and I intend to burn this afterwards.”

Jaime chuckled as he met her halfway across the room. The dress suited her. It wasn’t a traditional
dress of court, but rather a much more fitted gown that highlighted her lean body and subtle curves.

The fabric was silk and blue which paired well with Brienne’s eyes. It appeared that Sansa had her
way with Brienne’s hair, as it was in a similar style to their wedding day. Jaime had loved that look.
It softened Brienne’s features and fell perfectly across her cheek.

The dress itself was sleeveless which caused Jaime’s mouth to go dry at the sight. He felt a stirring
in his breeches as he drank her in. He wished for nothing more than to take Brienne to bed and
show her just how much he liked the dress. Sadly, Jaime knew Catelyn would be in shortly to ruin
all the fun.

Instead, Jaime pulled Brienne close and let her feel his want for her. Placing a deep kiss to her lips,
Jaime let his hand roam down her backside. When their lips parted, Jaime hummed and rested his
forehead against her.
“I would much rather stay in here with you. Why can’t Catelyn take the bloody crown?”

Brienne sighed and shrugged. “It would be preferable, but I imagine if asking her daily to this point
hasn’t changed her mind, then you won’t have better luck today.”

Jaime fake sobbed into Brienne’s neck as he tugged her close. “I don’t want it.”

“Yes, as you’ve also stated daily since… all that.”

Brienne’s inability to say ‘Cersei’s death’ both amused and saddened Jaime. He didn’t want his
wife thinking that his twin’s death still hung that heavy over him. The first day had been the
hardest, but it was never the type of pain that could destroy Jaime. Only the thought of Brienne
dying was enough to shake Jaime to his core.

“Cersei’s death, Brienne. That is what happened a month ago. And the Mountain’s death. And the
death of many City Guards. And the almost death of Bronn.”

Bronn. It was Jaime’s only regret from their successful mission. For days afterwards, Jaime ran
through everything in his mind. He tried to find different ways that didn’t see Bronn nearly fall into
the Stranger’s hands.

The sellsword’s recovery had been long and infection set in just a fortnight ago. Bronn was doing
better now, but still bedridden.

“I know, but it’s just that…” Brienne’s brows furrowed as she tried to find the words. This was a
conversation they had many times, and every time it ended the same way. Reaching for Brienne’s
cheek, Jaime waited until Brienne’s eyes met his.

“I can live without my sister, Brienne. As you can see, I’m very still very much alive despite her
lifelong insistence to the contrary. She was always quite fond of the idea of dying together. I cannot
however live without you.”

The tension in Brienne’s face eased slightly at his words and Jaime took the opportunity to jape
with her. “I cannot bear to be without you, wench.”

“Oh, gods. That’s awful, Jaime.”

“Apologies. I know that I can be a handful.”

“I’ll need to leave if you keep it up.”

Before Jaime could keep the game going, a knock at the door drew their attention. Jaime sighed
knowing it could only be one person.

“Lady Stark if you’re here about the crown, I’ve changed my mind.”

Pushing open the door, Catelyn stood with an unimpressed look on her face. She moved into the
room and eyed Brienne approvingly.

“Oh, you look perfect, Brienne.”

Jaime bit back a laugh as he watched Brienne’s face scrunch in distaste. Because the words came
from Catelyn, Jaime knew that Brienne would bite her tongue and say nothing of the foe that was
her dress.

Turning to Jaime, Catelyn’s smile fell. “Now listen to me Jaime Lannister. You are going to behave
today, and you are going to do little more than smile when that crown is put on your head.”

Any levity in the room was sucked right out at Catelyn’s nagging. It seemed to Jaime that he was
destined to endure demanding sisters throughout his life. No matter how much he tried to push
Catelyn away, Jaime needed her help and her presence.

Catelyn was patient with Jaime in a way that few others were. While she didn’t agree with
elements of his past, particularly his warped relationship with Cersei, she understood Jaime as few
did.

As much as Jaime japed about naming Catelyn Hand, he needed her to be. Begrudgingly, Catelyn
accepted; mostly because Jaime threatened to refuse the crown if she didn’t.

Catelyn had as much desire for the role as Jaime had desire to be King. He insisted that it was
Catelyn’s punishment for forcing the crown on him. It also served to ensure Catelyn continued the
search for a more appropriate ruler. The sooner she found a new ruler, the sooner she could chuck
her Hand pin into the Blackwater.

In truth, it was more than forcing Catelyn to endure the misery with him and Brienne. Jaime
needed someone who understood politics. Neither he nor Brienne had the mind for it. They were
warriors and preferred to handle things with steel in hand.

Like Tyrion, Catelyn understood court. She also had strong relationships with key nobles
throughout the Seven Kingdoms. She was well-respected and deemed honorable; traits that Jaime
desperately needed in a Hand.

Like House Stark, House Tully was renowned for their sense of honor. One of Jaime’s many fears
entering into his role as king was Westeros’ perception of House Lannister. If he named Tyrion as
Hand, Westeros may react negatively to an all Lannister crown. Jaime would need to portray
balance and a desire to move away from the reputation previously sullying House Lannister.

Further and more importantly to Jaime, Catelyn was one of four people that understood him on a
deeper level; the other three being Brienne, Genna, and Tyrion. The Stark matriarch was both a
friend and the closest thing to a healthy relationship with a sister that Jaime ever had.

Jaime’s heart had been free of Cersei for some time, but the effects of their twisted relationship and
Cersei’s emotional manipulations on his psyche proved harder to shake. Like Brienne, Catelyn was
considerate with Jaime and offered practical advice. They tempered his worst impulses.

As Catelyn stood in the room and reprimanded Jaime for wrongs he had yet to commit, he rolled
his eyes. “If I forget what I’m supposed to do, will you give me a hand?”

Catelyn groaned and buried her face in her hands. “No. Not this again.”

From the edge of the bed, Brienne huffed and muttered just loud enough to be heard. “This is what
I’ve been dealing with.”

Unwilling to control himself, Jaime grinned at Catelyn and pointed between them as he gave
context. “See it works both ways because you are Hand and I am lacking one.”

“Yes, thank you, Jaime. I definitely got it.” Catelyn pretended at displeasure, but Jaime could see
her biting the inside of her cheek. A knowing smile stretched across his face and he nodded slowly.

“Do you want to hear another? I’ve been saving them up for small council meetings. I thought they
might come in handy.”
Ignoring him, Catelyn moved to Brienne and cupped the young woman’s cheeks. “Good luck with
all that. You look lovely. I need to get out there now.”

At Catelyn’s words, Jaime noticed Brienne’s face fall. It had taken some time to coax it out of her,
but Brienne admitted to why she was uneasy about Jaime taking the crown. The self-doubt she
expressed floated to the forefront of Jaime’s thoughts.

‘It was different when it was just Tarth that we would stand before. They’re used to me. My
appearance. Now all of Westeros will be coming to treat with you. Someone like me shouldn’t be at
your side. You should have a wife who won’t bring shame to the crown.’

Jaime understood her fear. Court could be a cruel and petty place. He would make it his personal
mission to punish anyone who dare insult his wife or make her feel unworthy.

Fortunately, the armies were enraptured by her. They had practically lined up to train with her
which gave Brienne a much-needed confidence boost.

If spending her days in the yards made her happy, Jaime would ensure that Brienne was left
undisturbed. This was his burden to carry and Jaime didn’t want her to suffer through it.

Selfishly, Jaime was also excited to start a family with Brienne. He hoped that her days might
someday be spent in the yards training their children. He prayed to the Seven they would all be like
her; honorable, loyal, kind, innocent, and loving.

When the effort to remove Cersei was complete, Jaime was thrilled to rid their morning routine of
brewing moon tea for Brienne. He spent the first week continuously asking if she was certain
about wanting a babe now rather than waiting.

While Jaime wanted a family immediately, he recognized that Brienne was younger and had
knightly ambitions. He didn’t want Brienne to resent him for hindering her goals. Jaime worried
that if the training yard was to be her reprieve from the drudgeries of court, a pregnancy and babe
might take away her only outlet.

When Brienne indicated a readiness to stop taking moon tea, Jaime was overjoyed. He immediately
set to the task of proving to Brienne just how much he enjoyed her body and any babe that may
come from their love.

As Catelyn moved away from Brienne and stood before him, she raised a brow. “Remember what I
said. Behave, smile, and no japes.”

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t listening. What was the first part? Misbehave?”

“Gods, help me. I’ll see you out there soon.” Moving from the room, Catelyn closed the door,
leaving them alone again.

Jaime sighed and sat beside Brienne on the bed. Wrapping his arm around her, Jaime pulled her
backwards onto the silks. There was nothing that felt so good as laying beside Brienne. Jaime
draped his left arm over her chest and nuzzled his head into her neck.

“Do we need to stay long after the coronation? Can we just come back here?”

Brienne snorted and ran a soothing hand through his hair. “I imagine you need to greet your people
and then stay for the feast. This day is for you after all.”

Jaime considered all who would be in attendance. He and Catelyn had already named some
members of the small council and appointed three new knights to the Kingsguard to account for
vacancies; two by force and one left unfilled after Jaime’s dismissal.

Genna would take on the role as Master of Coin. As a Lannister by birth, she seemed well-suited
for the position. Lord Paxter Redwyne was named Master of Ships. As restitution for Cersei’s
destruction of his wife’s House, House Tyrell, Lord Paxter’s twins saw their status elevated.

The eldest twin, Horas, would be awarded Highgarden. His younger twin, Hobber, would now
inherit the Arbor. In attempt to restore peace between Dorne and the Reach, Catelyn had arranged a
match for Horas with Lady Gywneth Yrnwood of Dorne.

It was the first of a few matches that Catelyn brokered between the Reach and Dorne to ensure the
kingdoms began to work together. Their history had always been tumultuous, but she aimed to see
that improved.

The new Lord Commander of the Kingsguard was the recently appointed Ser Brynden Tully.
Catelyn had rolled her eyes and teased Jaime mercilessly about how the job of the Lord
Commander was to follow the King around and protect him; not for the king to follow around the
Lord Commander begging for bedtime stories.

Jaime was determined to get the Citadel to replace Grand Maester Pycelle. He never trusted the
man and he wanted Pycelle nowhere near Brienne; particularly if she became heavy with child.
Catelyn suggested having Maester Luwin reassigned from Winterfell to King’s Landing since
Maester Wolkan was still present.

For Master of Laws, Jaime appointed his friend, Ser Addam Marbrand. It had been the one
appointment that he and Catelyn disagreed on. Thinking on it amused Jaime. Catelyn claimed that
Addam didn’t have the maturity for such an important role; a role overseeing the laws, dungeons,
and king’s justice.

Jaime had teased that he needed Addam’s ribald tales to pass time in council meetings, but in truth,
Jaime knew that Addam was a man that soldiers respected and who would uphold the law. He was
a trusted friend and he would take things seriously when necessary.

“Gods, Catelyn. Renly was Master of Laws! The man couldn’t even figure out the laws of
succession between him and his elder brother. If he can be Master of Laws, I fail to see why Addam
can’t be.”

When Catelyn had continued to protest, Jaime shrugged and smirked.

“Well it’s a good thing that I’m king. Addam is going to be Master of Laws. It’s done. Besides, I’ve
already agreed to take on your youngest two as pages, one of whom isn’t even a boy, mind you.”

Catelyn had endured much heartbreak being separated from her children, so it hardly surprised
Jaime that her stipulation to taking the role of Hand required that Arya and Rickon join her in
King’s Landing. The prospect pleased Brienne who had told Arya in Winterfell that she would
train the young girl.

Arya and Rickon couldn’t possibly get a better instructor than Brienne. Between them and Pod,
we’ll have a new generation of Kingsguard.

In the North, Jon would act as castellan until Rickon came of age. For her part, Sansa had requested
to join Tyrion at the Rock. The young woman had made the request to her mother when she,
Tyrion, and Genna arrived for the coronation the day prior.
 Catelyn’s shock had amused Jaime, but in truth, Jaime saw it coming. Both he and Brienne felt that
something more was developing between the pair. While it was clear they had not addressed it yet,
there was an unspoken affection between Tyrion and Sansa.

As such, Jaime formally named Tyrion Lord of Casterly Rock. Aside from aiding Tarth, it was the
only other good to come from being king. He would ensure the West accepted Tyrion as lord or
they would answer to him.

When eventually Catelyn would find a suitable replacement for Jaime, he would spend his
remaining days on Tarth as Consort to the Evenstar. It was a role that Jaime very much looked
forward to. At his elevation to castellan, Brent had been shocked, but deeply honored. Jaime and
Brienne knew that he would do a remarkable job on Tarth leading the restoration effort.

With Tarth only being a two-day journey by ship, Brienne and Jaime agreed to visit the island
regularly to check on progress and see the people. Otherwise, they would accept life in King’s
Landing and do the best that they could for Westeros.

There were still other appointments to make, wardens to assign, and holdings in need of nobility.
There was also the matter of the Vale which had not been forgotten. Curiously, Lysa and
Littlefinger had sent Lord Royce on behalf of the Vale for Jaime’s coronation.

Jaime and Brienne walked hand in hand to the throne room. His heart was beating fast, knowing
what was to come. Stepping into the room, Jaime took a deep breath. The throne room was packed
to capacity with all manner of attendees.

Since word of his true reason for killing Aerys made its way through the armies and by
consequence to the people of King’s Landing and beyond, Westeros’ view of Jaime seemed to
change overnight.

He was a king already being celebrated. It seemed that after years of ill-equipped, mad, or cruel
sovereigns, the people sought a ruler with regard for their well-being.

The Septon stood at the front of the room as everyone turned to face Jaime. When he and Brienne
made their way to the front of the room, Jaime didn’t want to let Brienne go. It took only one look
for Catelyn for the message to be received.

‘Behave. Smile. No japes.’ Yes, well I much rather would focus on not vomiting.

The ceremony was relatively short and painless. Jaime thanked all Seven for it as he wanted little
more than to have Brienne back at his side. As they neared the end of the ceremony, Jaime knew
the words to come and he cringed inwardly.

“In the light of the Seven, I now proclaim Jaime of the House Lannister, first of his name, King of
the Andals and the First Men, and Protector of the Seven Kingdoms. Long may he reign.”

The Septon placed the crown onto Jaime’s head and stepped aside. At his words, all those amassed
in the throne room repeated the words loudly. “Long may he reign.”

Chapter End Notes

Thanks to all those who read along! I hope everyone is staying healthy and safe! Part 2
 is focused on a good deal of politic, dealing with Littlefinger, the arrival of Daenerys,
and the matter of dead things marching on the realm. The first chapter is going up with
this one.

Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!