Keeping Vows

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/24399211.

Rating: Mature
Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Category: F/M
Fandom: Game of Thrones (TV)
Relationship: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth, Jaime Lannister & Brienne of Tarth,
Jaime Lannister & Tyrion Lannister, Tyrion Lannister & Sansa Stark
Character: Jaime Lannister, Brienne of Tarth, Tyrion Lannister, Sansa Stark, Tywin
Lannister, Cersei Lannister, Selwyn Tarth, Bronn (ASoIaF), Joffrey
Baratheon, Olenna Tyrell, Shae (ASoIaF), Ramsay Bolton (minor),
Roose Bolton (minor), Petyr Baelish (minor)
Additional Tags: Marriage of Convenience, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Alternate
Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon through 04x01, BAMF Brienne of
Tarth, Angst with a Happy Ending, Pining, Jealousy, Tywin Lannister
Being Tywin Lannister, Idiots in Love, Past Cersei Lannister/Jaime
Lannister, Ramsay Bolton is His Own Warning, Torture
Series: Part 1 of First of Her Name
Stats: Published: 2020-05-27 Completed: 2020-07-03 Chapters: 41/41 Words:
118462

Keeping Vows
by BecauseBraime

Summary

Jaime returns from the Riverlands and does not receive the warm welcome he expected.
Instead of ignoring Tywin's request for him to leave the Kingsguard, Jaime agrees, but one
two conditions. Canon through S4 E1. It change everything including the events at the
Purple Wedding.
 No Longer One

“Don’t forget your oath, Ser Jaime.” The wench’s words were like a vice grip around his throat.
From the moment he walked through the gates of King’s Landing, Jaime felt the pressure to get
Sansa out to safety. He had hoped for a moment’s reprieve from Brienne’s righteous priorities by
basking in the excitement of his return.

It was not the homecoming Jaime expected.

Tywin should have been pleased to have his eldest son and preferred heir back, even if Jaime had
given up his inheritance in favor of the white cloak. Instead, Tywin inspected at him as he would
an asset. A damaged asset at that. “Well how do you expect to be of use with your sword hand
gone?”

Cersei should have been overjoyed to have her twin, her lover, back in her arms, even if Jaime had
begun to question what exactly their relationship was. Now, Cersei looked at him as though he was
a stranger. Someone not fit to lick her boots. “You took too long.”

Tyrion was the only one pleased to see Jaime. The only one relieved that Jaime was alive. Unlike
Tywin and Cersei, Tyrion did not recoil in disgust at the sight of him. Filthy, haggard, and missing
a hand. Despite that, Tyrion found himself in a precarious position. He was also the husband of the
very girl that Jaime sought to remove from King’s Landing.

Freshly bathed, shaven, and given a haircut, Jaime sat in his room as Qyburn strolled in. Cersei had
commissioned a golden hand to mask his new flaw. Will a golden hand grip a sword the way my
flesh did sweet sister? Will it feel the same against your skin?

Now that he was deemed visually acceptable, Cersei glided into his room at Qyburn’s exit. She
looked both beautiful and ugly at the same time. Jaime was surprised to find the lack of stirring in
his breeches that her presence usually prompted.

“Brother, I’m glad to see you looking more yourself.”

Jaime’s eyes raked over her body. Did my cock fall off in the Riverlands or is it now as lame as she
thinks me?

“Sister, here I wondered if you noticed my return at all.”

With an unimpressed sigh, Cersei swirled the wine glass that seemed to have taken permanent
residence in her hand. “As I said, you took too long. Much has happened and you weren’t here.”

“You’ll have to forgive me. I was busy rotting in a pen at Robb Stark’s camp.”

Anger flashed across Cersei’s features as she tried to hide her reaction. You can’t hide from me.
We’re twins. I know your mood as well as my own. “And did you truly do all that you could to not
get captured? Robb Stark is a child and you were supposed to be my golden lion.”

Rage simmered in Jaime’s gut as he appraised his sister. “Well you’ve figured me out. Yes, my
intent was to get captured by the enemy so that I may suffer in a cage for a year. Then for added
fun, I thought it would be enjoyable to get sent off by the always pleasant Catelyn Stark where I
subsequently lost a hand on the journey home.”

A moment of tense silence passed between Jaime and Cersei. Cersei was first to break. Her eyes
flitted away and out towards the balcony. “And I see you brought a new pet home. That great cow
from Tarth.”

At the mention of Brienne, Jaime’s stomach knotted. He did not want to discuss Brienne with
Cersei. Quite frankly, he did not want to discuss Brienne with anyone. Jaime struggled of late to
reconcile his own feelings for his captor turned co-captive, turned comrade.

The only thing more frightening to Jaime than giving name to his feelings for Brienne, was having
those feelings exposed to Cersei.

“What of her? She returned me to you. Should anything matter beyond that?” Jaime looked away
from Cersei; afraid his eyes would reveal away more than he intended to.

“If that’s all it is, why is she still here?”

Well beside the oath I swore that happens to conflict with our family’s desires?

“She was injured returning me here. I asked Pycelle to tend to her wounds. I’m certain she will be
on her way after.” With Sansa.

Gliding over to the chair Jaime sat in, Cersei sank to her knees before him; clasping his flesh hand.
Her eyes darted to the gold hand and Jaime saw the thinly veiled disgust in her eyes. “I want her
gone now. I want us back.”

Liar. You want your creature back. The golden idiot who did your bidding. Cersei pursed her lips
and let her hand fall from Jaime’s hand to his thigh. She tugged at the laces of his breeches and
kept her eyes fixed on his. Jaime searched them for something. Something he thought he used to
see, but now couldn’t find.

Was it ever love?

Cersei’s dainty fingers made quick work of the laces before moving to pull down his breeches.
Standing from her crouched position, she lifted her skirts and sat astride his lap. Reaching her hand
down between them, Cersei’s eyes locked on Jaime’s matching pair questioningly. A small smile
tugged at Jaime’s lips.

“What? Were Kettleblack and Lancel that quick to do their duty?”

At Jaime’s words, Cersei’s eyes darkened, and she leapt off his lap. “Mayhap more than your hand
was lost in the Riverlands, brother. Your cock looks rather sad and small, hanging from your
breeches like that.”

The words made Jaime laugh as he stood from his chair. His nonchalant attitude seemed only to
incite Cersei further. “Don’t worry sister. I’ll keep my sad, small cock away from that loose cunt of
yours. I wouldn’t want it getting lost in its vastness.”

Cersei slapped him across the face and turned on heel to leave. She was little more than a swirl of
skirts and seething indignation.

Well that went well.

Jaime tucked his cock back into his breeches and finished getting ready. He was to meet his father
in the study shortly. Donning his Kingsguard armor, Jaime looked down remorsefully at the gold
medal adorning his stump.
The walk to his father’s study was mercifully short. Jaime was still yet recovered from his journey.
His stomach growled in protest as his feet carried him in the opposite direction of the hall from
where he knew food was being put out.

Coming to stand before the door, Jaime took a steadying breath. He raised his hand to knock and
huffed a bitter laugh as the gold hand came into view. Wrong fucking hand. Lowering his right
arm, Jaime lifted his left hand and knocked.

Tywin bid him enter and moved around his desk in greeting. “Jaime. Good, you’re here.” Oh, now
my presence is ‘good’?

Walking into the room, Jaime’s eyes followed Tywin. His father retreated to a desk at the back of
the room. On it, two freshly forged swords were sheathed in crimson and gold.

Tywin produce one of the swords and handed it to Jaime for appraisal. The craftsmanship was
stunning, and Jaime admired it in the dim lighting. “Magnificent. It looks fresh forged.”

Turning back to his desk, Tywin muttered. “It is. Valyrian steel in fact.”

“They haven’t made valyrian steel swords since the Doom of Valyria. Where did you even get this
much steel?” Jaime’s tone was incredulous as he glanced back to his father.

“A man who no longer had need of it.” The implication was obvious, and Jaime’s jaw snapped
shut. Ned fucking Stark. Great. Another reason for their house to hate ours.

Jaime hummed and continued appraising the sword. “We’ve wanted one of these in the family for
a long time.”

“And now we have two. That one is yours. Joffrey will have its twin.”

“Two?” Jaime looked up to Tywin in confusion.

“The original was absurdly large. Plenty of steel for two.”

With a heavy sigh, Jaime met his father’s eyes. “Well, thank you. It’s glorious.”

Jaime moved to sheath the sword with his unpracticed left hand but struggled at the motion. The
exaggerated eye roll from Tywin did not go unnoticed. “You’ll need to train your left hand.”

“Any decent swordsman can use both.”

“You’ll never be as good.” Tywin’s words hit harder than Jaime cared to admit. He watched as his
father sat down behind the table and appraised him.

“No, but as long as I’m better than anyone else, I suppose it doesn’t matter.” Jaime spoke the words
confidently but felt anything but. I couldn’t even fell a squire if I needed to.

“You can’t serve in the Kingsguard with one hand.” Tywin’s voice took on a mocking intonation.

“I can and I will. The Kingsguard serves for life.”

“You will return home to Casterly Rock and rule in my stead.” Tywin looked to Jaime with fierce
determination in his eyes. Despite it, Jaime was unmoved.

Home? Casterly Rock hasn’t been my home in years. I spent most of my life here, in King’s
Landing. I don’t want to be lord of anything. I’m a knight.
Jaime huffed in annoyance and began pacing the room. “You are lord of Casterly Rock.”

“No, I am the King’s Hand. My place is here. I don’t expect to see the Rock again before I die.”

I won’t do this. Let me keep one fucking oath for once in my life.

“Do you know what they call me? Kingslayer. Oathbreaker. Man without honor. Now you want
me to break another sacred vow.”

“You won’t be breaking anything. There is a precedence that has been set for such situations.”

“No.”

“No?” Tywin snorted and looked to Jaime as though he sprouted a second head.

“No.”

Tywin stood from his chair and glared at Jaime. “I don’t believe I asked you a question.”

“Well that’s my answer regardless.”

Rounding the table, Tywin began to speak pointedly at Jaime. “If you think your bloody honor…”

The situation hit Jaime all at once. He tuned his father out and began to consider what was
happening. An oath. I can keep an oath. I can be removed honorably from the Kingsguard now that
I have one fucking hand. Surely they can’t fault me for that and regardless, I’ve already soiled the
cloak. I can’t accomplish anything more here, but I can be the knight Brienne believes me to be. I
can do something good in this shit life.

Interrupting his father, Jaime spoke commandingly. “I have two conditions.”

Jaime’s words caught Tywin off guard. Tywin’s head jolted up from where he had been studying
something on his desk. His eyes were wide in shock. “What conditions?”

“The first is that I name my wife. The second is that I take Tyrion and Sansa with me to the Rock.”

Tywin scoffed and moved back to his chair. “You may choose your wife, but Tyrion and Sansa
stay here. I need to monitor them and ensure an heir is conceived so that they may rule properly in
the North.”

Jaime shook his head and sat down quickly. “Cersei has done nothing but torture the girl and I
swore an oath to Lady Stark to see the girl home. Her kin is dead thanks to you and the Freys, but I
can at least see her to safety. I will watch over her and Tyrion at the Rock. When they produce an
heir, I’ll ensure they find safe passage to Winterfell. Either you agree to my terms, or I stay in the
Kingsgaurd.”

Tywin leaned back in his chair and appraised Jaime. “Tyrion and Sansa will remain here until you
name a woman of noble birth and marry her.”

“Brienne of Tarth. That is who I choose.”

Brienne is going to kill me.

 Are You Sure We’re Not Related?
Chapter Summary

Jaime breaks the news to Brienne about the arrangement with Tywin.

Chapter Notes

This is another scene from S4 E1 that everyone might remember. After this bit of
"background" we'll get into the primary plot.

Jaime and Brienne stood on a garden terrace looking down at Sansa who was praying near the
water’s edge. It was a sunny day and the wind kept the temperature tolerable. Despite the cool
breeze, Jaime couldn’t help but feel an anxious heat radiating off his body.

“There she is.” Brienne’s stoic voice floated through the air.

“Yes, there she is. And?”

Jaime tapped his fingers nervously on the top of the stonework that he leaned against. Turning
slightly to meet Brienne’s eyes, Jaime sighed at the sight of her judgmental expression.

“You swore a vow to return them to their mother.”

“Who is now dead.” Jaime raised a brow and waited for the incoming accusations.

“And you swore to keep them safe.”

“Well Arya Stark hasn’t been seen since her father was killed. Where do you suppose she is? I
imagine, dead. There is a certain safety in death. And Sansa Stark is now Sansa Lannister.” Jaime
extended his hand towards Sansa as though that solved all their problems.

Looking back down at Sansa, Jaime continued. “That makes her my goodsister which makes this a
complication.”

“A complication? That doesn’t release you from a vow.”

Jaime huffed in exasperation and shrugged. “What do you want me to do? Kidnap my own
goodsister? And then take her where? Where would she be safer than here?”

Brienne righted herself from her position leaning against the stone railing. “Look me in the eye and
tell me that you think she’ll be safe in King’s Landing.”

Jaime’s brows furrowed in irritation. Must you always point out the obvious?

“Are you sure, we’re not related?” Brienne’s brows knitted in confusion at Jaime’s words, but
before she could speak, he continued. “Every Lannister I’ve encountered since my return has been
a miserable pain in my ass! Mayhap you’re a Lannister too.” Or at least… you will be. Surprise,
wench.

Feigning indifference, Jaime turned to walk away. “You’ve got the hair for it… if not the looks.”

Yes, off to a good start wooing her. She’ll like that.

Brienne glared at Jaime and watched his retreat before turning back to lean against the railing.
Turning back at her, Jaime waited impatiently for her to follow. He felt a slight shock that she
didn’t immediately move to berate him for his failure on the matter. That’s what Cersei would do
at least.

Taking a deep breath, Jaime looked back at her. The glare of the sun off the water seemed to
surround Brienne’s blonde locks, making her glow. It was still jarring to see her out of armor.
While they had been captives of Locke she didn’t have her armor of course, but most of Jaime’s
time was spent fevered and hallucinating. Most memories of Brienne’s physical attributes were
imprinted into Jaime’s mind as that of a fierce warrior in her armor felling dolt Stark solders or
pulling him along on a rope.

Well… that and the bath at Harrenhal. Jaime’s mind conjured the image of her standing before him
in righteous indignation. Water beading off her clenched jaw and dripping to her breasts and hips.
The surprisingly feminine curve of her body despite being incredibly tone. The image made his
cock twitch. Seven hells. No time for that line of thinking now.

Clearing his throat, Jaime spoke to Brienne. “Well… are you coming along? I’m certain you have
more to pester me about.”

Glancing back at him, Brienne’s brows furrowed slightly. “You’ve made your position quite clear.
I’ll need to figure this out on my own.”

Annoying, stubborn, insufferable wench. “Well, I’ve made my position clear. I haven’t exhausted
all options however.”

At his words, Brienne turned to face Jaime fully. Her sapphire eyes glistened in the light and
distracted him from the speech he had prepared. “Options? Such as?”

Jaime rubbed the bridge of his nose and sucked in a deep breath. “Well by options, I mean option. I
can only find one solution, although I don’t much think you’re going to like it.”

Brienne looked at him warily. She took a hesitant step towards him as though something my spring
out from the shrubbery and assault her. Curiosity pooled in her expressive eyes as Jaime cleared his
throat before speaking.

“I was able to work out a deal with my father which would allow me to take Sansa from King’s
Landing. She and Tyrion would accompany me to Casterly Rock where she would be safe and
under my protection.”

Assessing her reaction, Jaime noted the shock and hope blooming in her eyes. “That’s… amazing. I
can’t believe he agreed to that.”

A nervous laugh pushed past Jaime’s lips as he looked to the ground and prepared for the worst.
“Well, the arrangement came with conditions. Now that I’m apparently of no use to the crown
given the loss of my sword hand, I’m to be released from the Kingsguard and placed as Lord of
Casterly Rock.”
“But Kingsguard serves for life?” Even when a situation worked to their advantage, Brienne had to
play the virtuous card. Typical.

“Yes, well apparently all that has changed. They dismissed Ser Barristan Selmy on account of age
alone. The idea of dismissing a guard whose sword hand has been misplaced hardly seems out of
question.”

Jaime’s words were bitter and Brienne’s returning frown conveyed her understanding. “I can’t
believe they dismissed Ser Barristan. I’m sorry to hear of it all. I know how important the
Kingsguard is to you.”

With a shrug, Jaime huffed a laugh and continued. “I only ever wanted to be in the Kingsgaurd
because of her. It was her idea to keeps us close. I was content to be a knight and fight for a worthy
cause.”

If Brienne had seemed shocked by his initial words surrounding dismissal from the Kingsgaurd,
this latest information nearly took her to the Stranger. “Oh. I’m very sorry, Ser Jaime. I…”

“I’m not. That was a mistake. A rather lengthy, regrettable one. Nonetheless, that reason for
staying is a no longer relevant.”

Brienne nodded in understanding and shrugged. “You said there were two conditions?”

“Yes, I’m to take a wife and do my duty to my house. He won’t let me leave King’s Landing with
Sansa and Tyrion until I’ve wed.”

Jaime didn’t know what kind of reaction he expected from Brienne, but it wasn’t what he received.
She looked disheartened at his words as though it was a lost cause. “That could take moons. Lady
Sansa won’t be safe here for that long. There has to be a better way.”

“Brienne, I’ve already named my wife. My father is rather eager to see the match made. He wants
the wedding to happen immediately; before Joffrey’s even. Of course, it just gives him a chance to
parade me about in front of court.”

“Oh. Well, I suppose congratulations are in order.” Brienne smiled warmly at him, but it didn’t
reach her eyes.

“Yes, congratulations to you as well.” Jaime laughed anxiously and looked to Brienne awaiting her
response.

“What?”

“I said, congratulations to you as well. I suppose we are going to be related after all.” A sly smile
spread across Jaime’s face, but it was short lived as a storm gathered across Brienne’s features.

“What!?”

“Not quite the reaction I was going for, Lady Brienne. The polite thing to do would be to swoon
over how handsome your betrothed is. No, wait, I take that back. Don’t swoon. I won’t be able to
carry you back inside.”

“You’re not funny in the slightest.” Huffing in irritation, Brienne began to stomp off.

“Brienne, wait. We need to talk about this. Is it really so bad? Look, I even managed to rid myself
of the flees in time for our vows.”
Brienne rounded on him and glared. “This is not funny Ser Jaime. I don’t know what you’re
playing at…”

“I’m doing what you asked! You said, ‘Don’t forget your oath, Ser Jaime.’ Well I don’t have many
options to get Sansa out. Mayhap you didn’t hear me when I told you that she is now my
goodsister. I can’t very well steal her away in the dead of night.”

The scowl on Brienne’s face was worse than her usual looks of consternation. Jaime ran his hand
through his hair and contemplated a different approach.

Dropping any jest from his tone, Jaime looked at Brienne beseechingly. “I don’t have many
options to fulfill my oath. Sansa is married to my brother. My father wants them to stay in the
capital. I don’t have another way to get them out that won’t end in a violent chase across
Westeros.”

Taking a deep breath, Jaime continued before Brienne could protest. “My father has wanted one
thing my entire life. For me to take my place as his heir. I never wanted a wife nor children, but I
am giving up the white cloak to fulfill my bloody oath that you asked me to honor.”

Brienne reeled back as if slapped. The look in her eyes was a mix of shock and offense. “So, this is
my fault then? I fail to see what this has to do with me. Find a proper lady to play the part.”

“It is our oath, is it not? I don’t want some vapid lady of court. They’re so… boring. Gods, could
you imagine it. I’d be busy failing at training my left hand while she prattles on about what tea to
serve for her luncheon.”

Jaime’s face scrunched in distaste at the thought. It had occurred to him that perhaps he should be
a touch more honest with Brienne, but that felt dangerously close to discussing feelings and that
was not something he was prepared to do.

Taking a deep breath, Jaime met Brienne’s eyes. “I don’t have another way. This is it. Either she
stays here in King’s Landing and I keep the white cloak or she is taken to the Rock and we are
wed.”

Brienne’s face was a sea of emotions, none of which Jaime could read. She huffed and looked out
across the sea. A slight sadness took hold of her eyes. Seven hells, I would give my left hand to
know what she is thinking.

With the excitement of a prisoner marching to execution, she answered. “Very well.”

Jaime’s voice took on a teasing lilt at her reply. “There’s the enthusiasm I was hoping for. Think of
how much fun we’ll have. Thank the Gods I wasn’t stuck in this oath with a man or that would
make for an awkward bedding.”

Brienne’s eyes went wide in panic at his words. It immediately occurred to Jaime realized how ill-
considered the jape was. He felt his ears redden as he immediately tried to dismiss the comment.
“Lucky for you, I’m not interested. Don’t worry, we won’t need to worry about any bedding
nonsense.”

There. Now she is sufficiently wooed. This is going better than expected.

Later that morning, Jaime and Brienne found themselves in Tywin’s study. They stood before the
desk as he sat on the other side, writing a missive with little acknowledgement of their presence.
Tywin continued speaking from his long list of already provided instructions.
“…after Joffrey releases you today, you will wed Lady Brienne in two days’ time. She will wear a
dress… I’ll have none of that nonsense she is in now. Joffrey’s wedding is in a fortnight and
afterwards you will take your place as my heir at Casterly Rock. Gods willing a babe will already
be quickening in your wife’s womb by then.”

Seven hells. So much for the bit about the bedding.

“That was not part of our deal.”

Tywin stopped writing and looked up at Jaime; a challenging brow raised as he considered them.
“What was not part of the deal?”

Jaime glanced briefly to Brienne who stood rigid as ever. Irritation was writ across her face as she
looked straight ahead at the wall.

“The deal was that I take a wife and wed before leaving with Tyrion and Sansa for the Rock. That
is all. Nothing more.”

“Don’t play at ignorance, Jaime. Why else would you take a wife save for making heirs? Lady
Brienne will birth you healthy sons and I’ll hear no more of this nonsense.” After boldly stating his
claim, Tywin looked back to the missive and continued writing.

Jaime snorted and looked to Brienne who was glaring at him. With a slight shrug and a look that
suggested that Tywin was to be ignored, Jaime knew they would be having a serious conversation
later.

When Tywin next spoke, any hint of amusement Jaime felt in seeing Brienne so vexed faded. “You
will not leave King’s Landing until I have proof that the marriage was consummated.”

“What!? How do you plan on that? Are you going to sit in the room with us and offer me bedding
advice?”

“Enough, Jaime!” Tywin turned to Brienne, a no-nonsense expression on his face. “You are a
maid, are you not?”

Glancing to Jamie and then back at Tywin, Brienne’s face paled. “Yes.”

“Good. Then the staff will be able to confirm your union the next day when the linens are
changed.”

Jaime felt his blood boil as his fist clenched at his side. “That is degrading, and I will not allow…”

“You will do as I say or Tyrion and Sansa remain here. Make your way to the hall with your armor
and cloak of the Kingsguard. Joffrey has his instructions. Take Brienne with you and give Joffrey
this.”

Tywin handed Jaime a folded missive that had been resting on the corner of the desk. It bore
Tywin’s seal and despite being lightweight, felt like an anchor in Jaime’s hand. I can only imagine
what this says.
 Blue Is a Good Color On You
Chapter Summary

Joffrey dismisses Jaime from the Kingsguard. Jaime and Brienne have a chat.

Jaime stood before Joffrey as the boy king looked down at him from the throne. An amused smirk
on his face. “Uncle, you’ve finally come to your senses and admitted your uselessness. Let me give
you a hand.”

Joffrey began clapping and his insult at Jaime’s physical state was not missed by anyone at court.
A small huff of laughter pushed past Cersei’s lips who stood on the left-hand side of the throne
room floor.

Standing from his seat, Joffrey moved down the steps and smirked at Jaime. “Well as it were,
you’re now the second Kinsguard unfit to protect me. I’m pleased to formally release from your
vows so that I may have proper guards tending to me.”

Jaime’s eyes flitted to Brienne who stood solemnly on the right-hand side of the room. Her eyes
rolled back in her head at Joffrey’s words which prompted a huff of laughter from Jaime.

“I’m sorry. Is this funny to you, uncle? Is my safety of so little concern that you mock your own
uselessness?” Joffrey’s facial expression was now devoid of any mirth it held just moments earlier.

“I find nothing amusing in this at all.” Jaime held up the missive from his father and offered it to
Joffrey. “Your Lord Hand regrets that he could not attend my dismissal, but he wished for you to
have this.”

Joffrey’s brows furrowed in consideration. Taking the missive, he broke the seal and read the
contents of the letter. A loud guffaw pushed past his lips. “Truly? Is this a jape?”

Jaime’s brows knitted in confusion as he awaited more context from his spoiled seed. Pacing at the
base of the stairs, Joffrey appraised Jaime with nothing short of amusement on his face. The boy
king turned to Brienne and smiled impossibly wider. Oh Gods.

With the nod of his head, Joffrey returned to his throne. “After conferring with my Lord Hand, we
have decided to appoint Ser Jaime Lannister as Lord of Casterly Rock and Warden of the West. I
am also announcing his betrothal to Lady Brienne of Tarth.”

Murmuring throughout court reached Jaime’s ears as he again glanced to Brienne. Joffrey’s voice
took on a teasing lilt as he continued. “Uncle, now that she is to sit at our table, I just hope we can
tell your cow of a wife from the meat served during my wedding feast.”

The laughter that erupted throughout the assembled court was palpable. Cersei’s cackle was heard
loudest of all. It vibrated in Jaime’s chest as he looked briefly to Brienne. Her head hung in
embarrassment as she fiddled with the hem of her jerkin. A protective instinct washed over Jaime
as he felt his temper flare.

Jaime looked back to Joffrey with a vicious smile. “I can assure you that the only way you would
fail to differentiate my wife from your dinner is if you speak disparagingly of her again.”
At Jaime’s words, audible gasps were heard throughout the court. Jaime kept his eyes locked on
Joffrey whose face reddened with thinly veiled rage. “Is that a threat against your king!?”

A biting smile tugged at Jaime’s lips. “Of course not. I’m just a useless cripple, your Grace. What
harm could I possibly do.”

“Get out before I decide to send you to the Wall instead!” Joffrey waved his hand dismissively at
Jaime. With a mocking bow, Jaime moved quickly to Brienne and extended his arm. “My lady.”

Brienne hesitated, but one glance back at Joffrey was all the motivation she needed to accept
Jaime’s offered arm and exit the hall. The whispers as they passed were little more than those
Jaime had heard most of his life. He only felt badly that Brienne was now dragged through the
mud with him.

Making their way out of the room, Brienne immediately withdrew her hand. “This is a bad idea.
You have to find someone else.”

Jaime scoffed and spoke dismissively. “We’ve been over this already. It is you or no one.”

“Were you not in there? That will be your life everyday if you stand beside me.”

“Then I’ll stand before you! I won’t let anyone speak to you that way; king or not.” Brienne
flinched at Jaime’s tone and words, but then her eyes narrowed.

“He threatened to send you to the Wall. What if the next time he feels like taking your head. No
one could stop him. It isn’t worth it. Just let him have his fun. His words were hardly new to my
ears.”

The resignation in Brienne’s voice hurt to hear. Jaime knew the truth in it though. The first thing he
thought to do upon seeing her in the Riverlands was insult her. She hadn’t even spoken to him, but
he sneered and mocked her. All she had done in his presence was take breath, yet still she felt
compelled lash out.

A rising guilt gnawed at Jaime. Guilt that he had done little to consider Brienne’s feeling in this. He
had assumed she would be pleased to get Sansa to safety, but he failed to consider the implications
of their betrothal and ultimately their marriage.

Pulling her by the arm, Jaime spoke urgently. “We need to speak privately.” They made their way
through the hallways of the keep and to Brienne’s assigned room. The room was unsurprisingly
tidy, likely on account of its occupant. It hit Jaime how little she had.

When they arrived at King’s Landing just days prior, Jaime had an attendant send by some
garments for her. A couple of breeches and tunics, a brown jerkin, and a blue skirted top. Blue of
course because it brought out the color of her eyes.

Beyond that, she had nothing else. The Boltons had taken any other comfort from her. What little
coin she had on her was gone. Helping himself to a seat by the balcony, Jaime looked at Brienne
expectantly who was still hovering near the door.

“I think we can be in the same room. We are betrothed after all.”

Brienne rolled her eyes and took a seat across from him.

Jaime took a deep breath and ran his hand through his hair. “I didn’t think this through very well. I
saw an opportunity to get Sansa out with support of the crown and I took it. My intent was not to
put you in a position that brings you discomfort. You never answered me in the Riverlands. Do you
have siblings?”

“No. They all died in childhood.”

Seven hells. She’s an only child and heir. She needs a real marriage and yet she agreed to one for
duty to a dead Stark.

“I’m surprised your father hasn’t married you off already.”

Brienne fidgeted in her chair and looked out at the city. “He did try. Three times to be exact.”

Jaime visibly flinched at the words. “Three times? How is it that you’re unmarried? What are you
doing traipsing about the mainland in wars and serving as a sworn sword to the Starks?”

“My betrothals never worked out, obviously. The first died in childhood. I suppose that was a
kinder fate than marrying me. The second changed his mind when he saw me. I’m certain you can
understand why. The third retracted his offer when I broke his ribs. In fairness to me, he was quite
old and likely with brittle bones.”

The presentation of facts was so reticent that it was almost laughable. Jaime’s jaw went slack as he
digested the information. “Oh. Well, hasn’t your father has continued to seek out a match for you?”

“He gave up on all that. He sees the situation for what it is. That’s why he let me go fight. I
certainly hope your father isn’t planning to send a missive to mine. I would hate for my father to
suffer any false hope.”

“False hope?”

Brienne looked at Jaime as though he was the biggest dolt she ever met. “My father wants no
different than yours. He wants heirs. The difference is your father sees you as marketable. Mine
does not. I would hate for my father and Tarth to think this anything more than an extension of my
commitment to serve the Starks.”

Jaime felt his heart sink at her words. “Could you not accomplish both? I mean that, in time…
could you not see yourself with children?”

A bitter laugh escaped Brienne’s lips as she shook her head. “For someone who has sired three
children, you seem to forget how the process works. You see, typically a man beds his wife. Even I
know that and I’m a maid.”

“I lost my hand you know. Not my cock. I’m fairly certain that I have the required equipment.”

“It’s hardly the anatomy that’s the problem, Ser Jaime. Most men don’t take a woman as wife who
they find manish and ugly. For whatever reason, you seem a glutton for punishment.”

Yes, wench. Remind me again what an ass I am. I know the things I said to you and yes, they were
unworthy.

Jaime tapped the table with his knuckles. His brows furrowed in concentration as though searching
for an answer that wouldn’t see his head sailing over the balcony railing.

“I said a lot of cruel things to you when we met because I was angry at my situation. Quite frankly,
I say a lot of stupid things when I feel defenseless. You didn’t deserve that.”
“As I said, I don’t mind. I’m used to it.”

Liar. Your eyes are too expressive, wench. I saw the hurt when those Stark soldiers mocked you. I
saw the look on your face today at court.

“Well has it ever occurred to you that you shouldn’t be accustomed to hearing such comments?
They’re all worthless shits; Joffrey most of all. And besides…” Jaime smiled teasingly as he
continued. “For my part, I made one of my shit comments in the night, chained to a post while my
face was covered in mud and gods knows what else. I couldn’t see. I made the second shit
comment after I was unceremoniously thrown from a horse. I was dazed. You shouldn’t listen to
me when I’m unwell.”

“You strike me as always unwell.”

“Well see… you should never listen to me.” Jaime chuckled as he spoke before dropping his smile
and averting his eyes. “I won’t ask this of you if the thought of marrying me seems unbearable. I
only mean to say that I would not be averse all the things that come with marriage if you want
that.”

An awkward silence hung over them. Shifting in his seat, Jaime had to stop himself several times
from making an inappropriate jape to lighten the mood. He knew it would only serve to undermine
his sincerity. Jaime glanced at Brienne and saw her brows furrowed in concentration.

Unable to take the silence any longer, Jaime spoke again but with a teasing lilt in his voice. “I do
however hope that should we have any children, they are all little warrior girls like you who hate
dresses and want to wield swords rather than needles. Anything to piss my father off.”

Brienne snorted at Jaime words and he felt a small victory at the sound. Glancing to her, Jaime
noted the wide smile on Brienne’s face as she chuckled. The smile was breathtaking and
something deep within Jaime knew that this marriage of convenience might put more emotional
strain on him than her.

He knew that he couldn’t deny it any longer. No matter how much he tried to tease it away or
suppress the all too familiar emotions, Jaime knew. Fucking hells. I’m in love with Brienne of
Tarth.

Before either could respond, a firm knock came at the door. Brienne stood to answer it and was
quickly overrun by a team of seamstresses. The older looking of the four women curtseyed as the
others laid out spools of fabric. “My lady. Lord Tywin sent us to see to your wedding dress.”

Jaime bit back a laugh threatening to burst from his mouth at the look on Brienne’s face. “Oh.
Thank you, but I think I’ll be alright with what I have.”

“No, my lady. Lord Tywin was quite insistent. You’re to wear a proper dress and we only have two
days to fashion this. Please, we’ll need to start with your measurements.”

The four women looked expectantly to Jaime. A silently request for him to leave so that Brienne
could play the part of model. “Well this seems like quite a lot of fun. I’ll leave you ladies to it.”

With a mischievous wink at Brienne, Jaime began to leave the room. He took appraisal of the
various fabrics as he passed. Not surprisingly, the most Lannister of fabrics had been brought to the
room. Crimson and gold as far as the eye could see.

Jaime shook his head and pushed the fabrics around until he saw some blue material at the bottom
of the pile. “Blue. None of this Lannister shit. She is of Tarth and should at least wear her house
colors.” Looking to Brienne and ignoring the women bustling about, he continued. “Besides, blue
goes well with her eyes. They’re quite astonishing in any light.”

Without awaiting her response, Jaime left the room and made his way towards his quarters. He
would need to retrieve his things from the White Sword Tower. Do I even know where to move my
things to? Gods willing on an opposite wing from my batshit crazy sister.

Making his way to his old room, Jaime found the door ajar. He was shocked to see Cersei standing
by the window as he walked in. She turned to face him, and Jaime swore in that moment her face
was sharper than valyrian steel.

“Is this some fucking jape? Did you plan this all along? You fucked her in the Riverlands, didn’t
you?”

Jaime suppressed the urge to laugh in Cersei’s face, knowing that a scorned Cersei is a dangerous
Cersei.

“Unlike you, I have always stayed true. I fail to see how my betrothal concerns you, however. Now
if you don’t mind, I need to collect my things as I’m no longer qualified to stay in this tower.”

Jaime moved purposefully towards the chest at the foot of his bed. While the household staff
would move most of his belongings, there were select items that he trusted no one save himself to
move.

Cersei moved forward quickly and put a hand on his chest, shoving him backwards slightly. “You
can’t possibly mean to go through with this. You are mine. My other half. Born together, die
together. You can’t wed that beast and leave me here.”

“She is not a beast and yes, I can wed her and leave you here. Quite frankly, it’s the only thing I’m
starting to agree with father about. I’ve wasted too much time here.”

“You’ll be the jape of Westeros. The golden lion wed to the ugliest woman in the seven
kingdoms.”

A vicious snarl escape Jaime’s lips as he rounded on Cersei; moving her hand away from him.
“She is far more beautiful than you could ever be.”

At Jaime’s words, a shadow passed over Cersei’s features. She whispered unintelligibly.
“Valonqor.”

“What? What are you on about? I need to get my things and you need to leave. You shouldn’t even
be over here.”

Cersei’s eyes went wide as she stepped back from Jaime. “You’ll pay for this.” Before Jaime could
muster a reply, Cersei was out of the room and down the hallway.
 No Roses
Chapter Summary

Brienne and Jaime meet with Sansa and Tyrion. Tywin hosts a small feast the day
before the wedding.

Chapter Notes

Yay for double edit days! Hopefully I can get another two posted tomorrow, but we
shall see if the editing gods are on my side.

Brienne and Jaime sat at a small table outside awaiting Tyrion and Sansa to arrive. Brienne had yet
to speak with Sansa since arriving and was quite eager to meet her. Sighing heavily, Jaime looked
around the courtyard.

So many people milling about. So many ears belonging to Tywin, Cersei, Varys, Olenna, and
Littlefinger. It was a warm day and thankfully, Brienne had left behind the jerkin that she had been
wearing most days. Just looking at her in it would have been made Jaime sweat more. It’s too
bloody hot out here.

In the distance, Sansa and Tyrion came into view. Jaime smirked at the sight of Tyrion trying and
failing to elicit a smile from the Stark girl. Sansa’s handmaiden trailed behind them which amused
Jaime all-the-more since he knew the woman to be Tyrion’s lover.

On approach, Brienne stood up to greet them and Tyrion’s eyes went wide. Jaime had tried to warn
Tyrion about Brienne’s physical stature the day prior. “She’s tall. You’re short. No need to
mention either.”

Tyrion cast a raised brow at Jaime who stood at Brienne’s side. They exchange pleasantries and
quickly took their seats under the shaded canopy where Lady Olenna had taken to setting up her
own court oft late.

“Lady Sansa, I’m certain you remember my brother, Jaime.” Sansa glared at Jaime and he couldn’t
help but laugh. “I’d say she remembers me. That or she inherited the look from her father.” Brienne
kicked Jaime’s shin hard under the table. “Ow! Fucking hells.”

With a reprimanding glare, Brienne huffed and looked back to Sansa. “I apologize on Ser Jaime’s
behalf. I’m Brienne. I was your mother’s sworn sword.”

Offering a polite smile, Brienne looked eagerly at Sansa who offered little more than a scowl. “So
Tyrion has told me, but now you’re betrothed to the him.”

Oh, this will be fun. Jaime chuckled and leaned back in his chair with a smirk on this face. As
Brienne fumbled for words, he interjected. “Yes, it was your mother who made the match. She
thought we were just so wonderful together, it seemed unjust not to see a betrothal happen.”
“That is not how it happened!” Brienne spoke through gritted teeth.

“No… no it was. I remember the day quite vividly. You came into the lovely accommodations that
the young wolf afforded me…”

“You were in cage chained to a post.”

“… you were a bit standoffish, but you had the most remarkable scowl…”

“You were being a complete ass to Lady Catelyn.”

“… and Lady Catelyn said. ‘Wow. You two would make the most amazing little knights.’ I of
course reminded her that I’m a Kingsguard…”

“Are you unwell again?”

“… so she said, “Escort him back to King’s Landing so he can formally be released from his vows.
Then you two will wed and repopulate the rest of the shit Kingsguard with the bravest of
knights…”

“I can’t talk to you when you’re like this.”

Tyrion and Sansa sat still in their chairs, looking back and forth between the two. With a shrug and
slight smirk, Jaime looked to the pair across from him. “So there you go. It was very romantic and
here we are.”

Sansa’s brows furrowed and she glanced between the pair before turning to Brienne. “Why weren’t
you with her at the Twins if you were her sworn sword?”

Jaime watched as Brienne’s shoulders sank. “I’m very sorry about that. I was already well away
with Ser Jaime. She asked me to escort him back to King’s Landing, but only as a prisoner
exchange for you and Arya. That’s why I’m here. I wish that I had been there with her.”

What!? Jaime spoke through gritted teeth at Brienne. “Don’t you ever say that! You would have
been killed!”

Brienne’s return expression was equally determined. “Then so be it! At least I would have died
honorably fighting for her.”

The pair glared at one another before Tyrion cleared his throat to get their attention. Leaning in, he
spoke in hushed tones so as not to reach the ears of the gardens surrounding them. “So, I was
telling Sansa why you’ve agreed to wed.”

Jaime’s eyes flitted to the young wolf who was studying Brienne. Something passed through the
girl’s eyes that Jaime couldn’t read. With a slight sigh, Sansa looked to Brienne. “I can’t ask this of
you. I know how it feels to be forced into a marriage.”

Brienne shook her head and held Sansa’s eyes. “I swore an oath to your mother. I will do whatever
it takes.”

With an uneasy look towards Jaime, Sansa’s eyes narrowed. “Do you even like each other?” Both
Jaime and Brienne answered at the same time.

“No.” Brienne huffed in annoyance.

“Yes.” Jaime answered with a wide smile.

Hearing her answer, Jaime feigned offense and scoffed. “Wench! How could you say that?
Especially after your love confession last night. This is all so confusing to me.”

“What!?”

Before Jaime could needle her more, the attendants brought out food for the table. Of course.
Something that requires cutting up. Jaime sighed in resignation and accepted that it would likely be
hours before he had another chance to eat without failing.

Without being asked, Brienne reached out and cut the food for him. A fond smile spread over his
face as he looked to her. Unable to control himself from the sheer affection he felt for her, Jaime
pestered Brienne further. “That piece is still too big. What if I choke?”

A warning glare from Brienne suggested that choking would be a kinder death than what she
would do to him. Watching the exchange, Sansa’s brows furrowed as she considered something.

“How did you lose your hand?”

The question brought Brienne’s food cutting to a halt. Both Jaime and Brienne looked to Sansa in
surprise as a slight awkwardness settled over the table.

Trying to avoid the topic so as not to relive the torturous memories, Jaime japed. “A bear ate it.”

Brienne guffawed and immediately, Jaime was pleased with his decision. Gods, that smile. Tyrion
cocked a brow at them and leaned back. A knowing smile spread over his face as he studied Jaime.

Fucking hells. Where is his brain headed now?

“Truly though, how did you lose it? You said Locke did it? Why?”

Jaime looked at Tyrion in exasperation. Really?

Avoiding the question, Jaime prepared to make another jape, but Brienne spoke first. “It was my
fault. I should have been quiet and just… he lost his hand because of me.”

Sansa and Tyrion gaped at them, but Jaime hardly noticed. He was too fixated on Brienne. “It
wasn’t your fault. You did nothing wrong.”

“I should have done what you said. You would still have a hand.”

“And at what expense? Your maidenhead? Your emotional well-being? No. I’m quite glad I
stopped them.”

Sansa’s eyes went wide in understanding. “You lost your hand while saving her from… rape?”

And there it was. All the memories bubbled to the surface and Jaime wanted nothing more than to
flee the table. The thought of the blade coming down on his hand. The thought of Brienne being
abused and nearly assaulted. The fever. The pain. The belief that his life was over.

“Why would you do that for her? She was your captor?” Sansa’s confusion was evident in her tone
as she looked between the pair.

Jaime held the young wolf’s eyes as he responded. “No one should ever be forced.”

They ate in awkward silence for some time before Sansa spoke in hushed tones. “So, you’ll get us
out of here? Take us away from… them?”
Jaime nodded and looked to Brienne who had a pleased smile on her face. He again met the young
wolf’s eyes and spoke in a tone devoid of any mirth. “You have my word.”

Later that day, Jaime moved quickly through the keep towards Brienne’s room. Tywin had pulled
together a small feast to celebrate their wedding on the morrow. Given the short timeline, the
wedding would be small. It was the only thing that displeased Tywin about the circumstances.
There is nothing my father enjoys more than flaunting Lannister wealth and power to all of the
kingdoms.

Coming to a halt before Jaime’s door, he knocked and awaited her reply. The door pulled back
slightly to reveal Brienne. Her eyes narrowed and she grabbed Jaime by the jerkin, tugging him
into the room. He chuckled at her force and look of vexation. “I’m not wearing that!”

Brienne pointed to the dress that was set out on the chair in the corner. Oh Gods. What has my
father done? Jaime moved over to the dress and picked it up. Oh.

Jaime immediately guessed that this dress was not his father’s doing. There was nothing wrong
with the dress per say, but Jaime knew that it was not to Brienne’s taste. Gods. She spent the past
few days walking around in that bloody jerkin laced all the way up her neck. Now she has been
given a lowcut dress with sleeveless arms.

The first thought that crossed Jaime’s mind was that his sister had her hand in this. She would do
anything to make Brienne uncomfortable and this would certainly be one way to do it.

On second thought, Jaime doubted his sister would want anything so revealing on Brienne. Jaime
had seen Brienne naked after all. She was quite tone and she would look a bit too tempting in it.
Even if Cersei didn’t think Brienne beautiful as Jaime did, he doubted his sister wanted to risk a
positive reaction by the men at court.

Shaking his head, Jaime sighed and turned to Brienne who stood with her arms crossed a horrified
look on her face. “Who dropped this off?”

She shrugged and looked away uncomfortably. “An attendant.”

Oh good. That narrows it own. “Which attendant? One of my father’s? Cersei’s? Someone else?”

Brienne’s brows furrowed in confusion. “They all have their own attendants?”

Seven help me.

A pang of sympathy hit Jaime as he looked around the room. Visions of Brienne in a hideous pink
dress flooded his mind. “Do you have anything you would be more comfortable in?”

“Yes. Breeches and a tunic.”

Jaime chuckled and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I think we both know that won’t end well for
you. Why don’t you put this on and I’ll give you my jerkin?”

Judging by the look on Brienne’s face, she knew there was little option but to wear the dress.
Brienne muttered and grabbed the dress from Jaime’s hand. Moving behind the privacy screen, she
began to change as Jaime surveyed the room.

Tidy as always. So meticulous.

After some time, Brienne peered around the screen. “Would you mind fetching an attendant. I
can’t… I think it closes in the back.”

“I can do it. Just come here.” Well, I think I can. Then again, I can barely tie my breeches with one
hand.

Brienne shyly stepped out from behind the screen. She kept the dress pinched at the back and
averted her eyes to the floor. Jaime’s emotions were a mix of sympathy at her obvious discomfort
and shock at how stunning she looked.

Seven hells. How am I to avoid an awkward situation staring at her like this all night?

The dress was rich green with a deep cut neckline at the front. The shoulders were covered, but
completely sleeveless. Unlike bulky dresses of court, this was fitted well to her body and showed
off her subtle curves and tone body in all the right ways.

Jaime swallowed deeply as he bid her turn around. Oh fuck me. It’s low cut in the back too.

There were small hooks running up the middle of the back that Jaime was at least happy to see.
Better than laces that I couldn’t tighten nor tie. Using his left hand, Jaime managed to get the top
hooks easy enough which were the hardest for Brienne. Once those were taken care of, she could
manage the lower ones.

She refused to turn around and face him after the dress was on. Jaime could tell by the redness of
her ears that she was deeply uncomfortable. As Brienne refused to face him, Jaime walked around
to face her.

He almost wished someone had dropped off the hideous pink dress from Harrenhal. Jaime couldn’t
stop staring at Brienne and worried his cock might enter the great hall well before the rest of him.

Brienne clenched her jaw and continued to avoid his eyes. “Just… please don’t make japes. I know
how I look.”

“I truly don’t think you do.”

Crossing her arms over her chest, Brienne’s posture was unlike anything he had seen from her
before. The confidence she exuded in armor was lost to her now. Jaime knew that if ever there was
a time to not jape, it was now. He opened his mouth to compliment her, but the fear of exposing his
feelings outweighed reason. Opting for self-preservation, what instead came out was nothing short
of horrible.

“It could be worse. Remember Harrenhal?” Jaime chuckled and watched as her face fell more.

Right. Not helping.

Jaime extended his arm to her, but Brienne again didn’t move. Her arms remained crossed over her
chest and she walked towards the door without a word. Moving quickly to catch up with her, Jaime
tried to make small talk on the way to the hall, but Brienne looked nothing short of ill. She stared
ahead as though making a walk of atonement.

As they moved into the hall, Jaime bit his lip when all eyes fell on Brienne. The men looked
stunned, the Tyrell women looked amused, and Cersei looked pissed. It was a small gathering of
nearly twenty people.

Making their way to the head table, Olenna smirked victoriously. As they neared the Queen of
Thorns, she hummed in satisfaction and grabbed Jaime’s arm. “You can thank me later.” Jaime’s
eyes went wide at the Tyrell matriarch. Gods. She truly has it out for Cersei. Perhaps she even has
it out for me. I might die of want.

Tyrion stammered as Brienne sat down next to him and Sansa. “Wow… I, did not expect that.”

It was amazing to Jaime how everyone looked at Brienne in pleasant surprise, but she assumed it to
be mockery. Her eyes fell in a scene reminiscent of the throne room with Joffrey.

The feast started out well enough. Guests made their way to the head table to present various gifts
and well wishes. It wasn’t until Jaime saw Cersei approaching that dread pooled in his stomach.

Gods. What now?

Cersei walked towards them with a redheaded man offering his arm. Jaime didn’t recall seeing the
man before but suspected he might as well be another man on Cersei’s list of bedmates.

With a sigh of indifference, Jaime looked to Brienne whose eyes remained fixed on her hands as
though they held a lengthy novel.

Jaime looked back to his sister and the redhead. The man sneered as he appraised Brienne and a
victorious smile stretched across Cersei’s face. Seven hells. What now?

“Brother. Goodsister. I regret that the wedding is to happen on such a short timeline. I would have
so enjoyed meeting Lord Tarth and other members of the Stormlands. As it so happens, we have
some reformed Stormlanders here who joined our ranks after the Battle on the Blackwater. I
thought it might be nice for Lady Brienne to see a familiar face.”

Jaime turned to Brienne whose face had paled in recognition of the man. Her eyes filled with dread
as she shifted uncomfortably in her seat. The redheaded man bowed to Jaime before turning his
attention to Brienne. “It’s good to see you again Brienne. I apologize as I was invited last minute,
but I at least wanted to give you this.”

The man put down a single rose in front of Brienne as his lips curled into a smirk. Turning back to
Jaime, he raised a brow. “Good luck with that.” Jaime watched in confusion as the man retreated to
a table on the righthand side of the hall.

“Brienne, who was that?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does to me. Who was that?”

“We were betrothed once.”

Jaime’s brain ran through their conversation yesterday. The first one died in childhood. Alright
clearly not that one. The last was an old shit. That dolt didn’t look too old. The second one… the
second one ‘changed his mind when he saw her’.

And I’m sorry, but by the fucking way wench, how have I never heard of anything of this until just
the other day? These are things I must know. How am I to be angry on your behalf otherwise?

Looking back at the man, he watched the redhead laugh loudly with the guests at his table.
Straining to hear, Jaime could just make out the words “ugly beast” as they escaped the man’s lips.
Cersei had already made her way back to the head table; a mischievous look on her face.
Jaime turned to Brienne and leaned into her ear. “That was the second dolt I presume?

Brienne glanced to the man and muttered under her breath. “Yes.”

“Tell me what happened with him.”

Looking back to her hands, Brienne responded quietly. “It isn’t important.”

“You can tell me, or I can make a scene.” Jaime’s tone conveyed a casual indifference, but he was
seething internally. He already knew that it was very likely that he was going to assault the man.

Brienne looked to him imploringly. “Don’t. Do not make a scene.”

“Then tell me.”

With a huff of irritation, Brienne spoke in hushed tones. “His name is Ronnet Connington. He
came to Tarth to meet me and my father. Everyone lined up to receive him, but he took one look at
me and threw a rose in my face. Said it was the only thing I would receive from him.”

Well then…

Jaime stood up from his seat and grabbed the rose from the table. He distantly heard Brienne
calling out to him, but he was too focused on the redheaded dolt to stop.

Reaching the table, Jaime flashed his most charming false smile. “Ronnet. So lovely of you to join.
I apologize about before. My manners were lacking as I did not greet you properly.”

Without warning, Jaimes’s gold hand flew across the man’s face; cracking his nose and sending
him falling backwards to the floor. Jaime threw the rose on him and sneered. “That’s all you’ll
receive from me.”

Casually walking back to his seat, Jaime noted the shocked eyes of all guests focused on him. Any
sound in the hall had died as he began to whistle and nod in greeting to those he passed. Moving
past Tywin towards his seat, Jaime felt his father’s hand grab his arm.

Muttering under his breath, Tywin spat at him. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Mingling with the guests. Lovely dinner party by the way.”

Tywin’s eyes narrowed at Jaime as he again spoke in hushed tones. “You’re making a scene.”

Offering his father a raised brow and sly smile, Jaime replied coolly. “Come now father, a lion
does not concern himself with the opinions of the sheep.”

Tywin’s jaw went slack at the words. Tugging his arm from Tywin’s grasp, Jaime made his way
back to his chair. He took Brienne’s hand and placed a gentle kiss to her knuckles; enjoying the
sight of her rapidly spreading blush. “By the way, you look gorgeous tonight, my lady.”
 I'm Strong Enough
Chapter Summary

Jaime's and Brienne's wedding day arrives.

Chapter Notes

What is this fic rating even??? Smut ahead

It was the day of Jaime’s and Brienne’s wedding. Tywin called Jaime into his study not long before
Jaime was to make his way to the sept.

“About your little outburst last night, I trust that we won’t have any incidents today.” Tywin
shuffled the papers on his desk as he spoke to Jaime.

“That depends. Is Cersei planning on bringing anymore guests who mean to insult my bride?” At
Jaime’s words, Tywin’s head snapped up to look at him. An unamused expression played at his
features.

Ignoring Jaime’s comment, Tywin looked back down at his desk. “Now remember your duty to
this house. If you decide to pass out drunk as your useless brother did on his wedding night, rest
assured that neither you nor Tyrion will leave this city until both your wives have babes in their
bellies. Do I make myself clear?”

Jaime’s eyes narrowed and his tone dripped with disdain as he met Tywin’s eyes. “Perfectly clear.”

Several more inconsequential reminders later, Jaime found himself walking towards the keep exit.
The castle was abuzz with activity preparing rooms for guests that would be arriving in days for
Joffrey’s wedding next week.

Just ahead of him, Jaime saw Tyrion and Sansa preparing to lead. “Ah, brother. Ride with us.”
Jaime sighed and considered his options. Tyrion had been eyeing him suspiciously for some days
now and it was altogether unnerving.

Jaime loved his brother, but the way Tyrion’s mind worked was discomforting at best. He was
always ten steps ahead of everyone else and Jaime had little desire to sort through his riddles and
hidden intent.

As they entered the carriage, Jaime looked absently out the window. It was Tyrion’s voice that
brought him back to the carriage occupants. “Are you nervous?”

Jaime huffed a laugh and shook his head. “No.”

With an unimpressed hum, Tyrion looked to the side in contemplation before responding. “Well I
certainly was. Then again, I was forced into a marriage with an innocent child. You get to marry a
woman of your choosing who you’re in love with.”
As Jaime played with the hem of his crimson jerkin, he chuckled and responded without meeting
Tyrion’s eyes. “Well you at least make a better match for Sansa than Joffrey would have. The
miserable little shit would have done more harm than good.”

Sansa snorted and rolled her eyes but refrained from commenting. A knowing smile spread across
Tyrion’s face.

“So, you don’t deny it then.”

Jaime’s brows rose in question at Tyrion; his eyes flitting briefly to Sansa who also looked equally
amused as though they were in on some great jape. “What? That Joffrey is a miserable shit? No, I
don’t deny it. I wasn’t aware it needed saying.”

Tyrion’s tone was heavy with accusation as he responded. “No, that you’re in love with your
betrothed.”

“I never said that.”

“No, but you didn’t deny it either.”

Tyrion’s smile widened as he cornered Jaime. Scrambling to cover himself, Jaime stammered a
reply. “Well it didn’t warrant comment. We’re honoring our oath to Lady Catelyn. Nothing more.”

“Well you are correct in that it hardly needs commenting. Your actions and gawking at her say
enough.”

“Wow, you know what, I should have walked.” Jaime looked back out the carriage window and
tried to will away their presence.

“Is it truly so terrible to fulfill an oath and love the woman you’re marrying?”

“I don’t know what you’re on about, Tyrion.”

Sansa snorted at the exchange between the brothers before speaking absently to the carriage
ceiling. “A few years ago, the butcher’s son at Winterfell used to tease me mercilessly. I went to
my mother hoping she could make it to stop, but she only laughed and stroked my head. Told me
that when boys are very immature, they tease the girls they like because they’re afraid to make
themselves vulnerable. She said that she saw some of the exchanges and that the boy was quite
smitten. She said the look was in his eyes and his smile when I wasn’t looking. Now I know what
she meant.”

Jaime sat slack-jawed, staring at the young Stark. I think that is the most she has ever spoken at
one time. Also… how dare she point out my pathetic nature.

Tyrion guffawed and shook his head. “Brother, let me offer you some advice and then I’ll drop it.
Difficult as this might be for you, compliment her genuinely. No snark. No japing. Tell her how
you feel. Either she returns your feelings and you’re both all the happier for it, or she doesn’t, and
things are no different than they are now.”

The rest of the way to the Sept was spent in companionable silence. Jaime’s head swam with
conflicting emotions. He worried that if Tyrion and Sansa saw the truth of his feelings for Brienne,
surely everyone else did. Standing at the front of the Sept, Jaime felt his nerves begin to kick in.

Cersei was there glaring at him from the front row. If Jaime wasn’t so concerned for Cersei’s
treatment of Brienne, he would find the situation humorous. Tywin stood beside Cersei alongside
Sansa and Tyrion. A few members of Jaime’s family who were already in the city stood in
attendance as well; Uncle Kevan being the most visible from Jaime’s vantage point.

I wish Genna was here. She makes all Lannister affairs more tolerable.

The members of the small council and a small group of dignitaries stood throughout the rest of the
sept. Joffrey would be presenting Brienne in absence of her father which made Jaime nervous. The
boy had been unnecessarily cruel to Brienne from the moment she arrived. It was evident that
Cersei had been encouraging him along lately as his nastiness only increased.

Then the doors to the Sept opened and Jaime felt his heart stop at the sight of Brienne. Gods. She’s
stunning. Brienne’s dress was well fitted and the perfect balance of formal and attractive on her
form. Like the dress from the night before, it was not bulky like most dresses at court.

The front was lower cut than Jaime would expect to see Brienne in, but not so low as last night.
The dress was blue and had sleeves down to the wrist, but again, the sleeves were fitted
throughout. Jaime could see how uncomfortable Brienne was in yet another dress, but he thought
she looked gorgeous

Joffrey needled Brienne the entire way to the front of the Sept and Jaime felt his hand clench at his
side. It was obvious from the look in Brienne’s eyes that she was not being treated kindly.

The ceremony passed quickly with their vows being exchanged. Jaime felt his heart quicken as
they said the words to one another.

“Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger, I am hers and she is mine. From this
day until the end of my days”

“Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger, I am his and he is mine. From this day
until the end of my days.”

Jaime smiled anxiously at Brienne as he continued his part.

“With this kiss, I pledge my love.” Fuck. What do I do? I want to kiss her, but will she want that?
Would she prefer a kiss on the cheek?

Brienne glanced to the Septon uncertainly as Jaime stood frozen in place. It wasn’t until Jaime
heard Cersei snickering and Joffrey guffaw that he realized how much time had passed since he
spoke the words. Joffrey’s words echoed off the walls of the Sept. “Which one is the man meant to
give the kiss?”

Hanging her head in shame, Brienne’s face reddened as she spoke in hushed tones. “Please, just do
something. My hand will suffice.”

As if doused in cold water, Jaime snapped out of his stupor. He cupped Brienne’s cheek with his
left hand; his thumb resting by her ear. The flush on her face made her skin warm to the touch.
Jaime glanced to her plump lips and all he could think of was how kissable they looked. Stepping
forward, he wrapped his right arm around her waist, tugging her close.

Without removing his hand from her face, Jaime kissed her lips softly and for longer than propriety
would allow. It felt as though he had been doused in wildfire. Every part of him strained with want.

Cersei grunted in distaste from the crowd. “Ugh. Honestly, have some decency.” Stepping back
from the kiss, Jaime’s eyes went wide at the realization of what he did. Shit.
Glancing to the crowd, he could see that Cersei was fuming while Joffrey looked disgusted. The
larger part of those in attendance seemed pleased. Tyrion, Sansa, and, shockingly, Tywin, were
beaming. Olenna looked as though she had been handed the crown herself. The Queen of Thorns
eyes darted triumphantly to Cersei as she chuckled.

Soon they were back at the castle with the small feast underway. Jaime kept stealing glances at
Brienne and appraising her. She was truly breathtaking, and he cared little for what anyone else
thought of her appearance. He tried to jape with her, but Brienne was quieter than usual; nervous
almost.

“How long do you suppose before my brother passes out drunk? I think he’s on his third carafe of
wine.” Brienne offered a small smile, but she looked distant. “What’s wrong?”

As if shaken awake, Brienne looked to him. “What?”

“You seem somewhere else.”

“No, I’m fine. When do you think we can be done with this feast?”

“That eager for the bedding, wench?” Jaime teased, but the familiar flutters hit his stomach again.

Brienne rolled her eyes, but Jaime saw a slight flush spread across her cheeks. Before he could
needle her more, Joffrey stood from his chair. A grunt of frustration pushed past Jaime’s lips as he
looked to the little shit. Why the fuck did I ever think Cersei was a good idea?

The young king held a cup of wine in his hand. He had been sitting with Cersei all night and it was
evident they had both overindulged. Unlike Tyrion who kept his wits about him when drunk,
Cersei was usually unpredictable. Jaime imagined Joffrey inherited that from her.

Wine spilled carelessly from his cup as Joffrey gestured wildly to get the room’s attention. “Now it
is only fitting that I give a speech. After all, I am the King and I know these two will definitely
need my blessing.”

Jaime’s eyes darted to Tywin who sat warily at the table with Kevan, Sansa and Tyrion. Looking
back to Joffrey, the boy pressed on much to the dismay of the guests. “Now this is a bedding that I
wish I could witness. Two virgins with three hands between them.”

A loud guffaw escaped Tyrion’s drunken lips and Jaime wanted to crawl under the table. It was
obvious to a handful in the room why Joffrey calling Jaime a ‘virgin’ was absurd. Fucking hells.

“Uncle, have you even been able to take care of yourself lately? How can you hope to please your
new bride with one hand?” Cersei snorted from her seat as Jaime felt his ears redden in anger.

“As King, mayhap I should help my goodaunt out before you ruin her. Then again… I prefer my
women having a woman’s body so you might be on your own.”

“Rest assured, my wife is more than enough woman. The question is, are you enough man for you
betrothed? It seems quite late. Mayhap you should run off to bed.” Jaime sneered at Joffrey as he
spoke the words. Cersei stood in a rage to interject, but Tywin cut her off.

“I think it is time for Lord Jaime and Lady Brienne to retire for the night. Surely, your Grace, your
uncle was merely jesting. We are all aware of how man enough you are.”

Tywin glared at Jaime, but Jaime could barely suppress the laugh pushing past his lips. A wide
smile spread across Joffrey’s face. “Point well made grandfather. Time for the bedding! Lets see
what the cow looks like without her silks.”

Jaime stood quickly and puffed out his chest. “Touch her and you’ll receive a similar greeting to
Ronnet.”

“Jaime!” Tywin marched purposefully towards him. Grabbing him by the back of the jerkin like a
cat picking up her young, Tywin shoved Jaime towards the exit. Brienne was quick to follow as
they moved through the hallway and towards the room Tywin had assigned them for the remainder
of their stay in King’s Landing.

As they entered the room, Jaime kicked one of the chairs near the door. “That fucking miserable
shit.” Brienne pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed deeply. Looking to him, her eyes
conveyed her dissatisfaction. “You just threatened the king… again.”

“Well he was being a little shit… again.”

Brienne rubbed her face and muttered to herself. With a heavy sigh, Jaime looked around the room.
Fucking crimson and gold all over. Typical. Tywin has spared no expense to mark this night as his.

There was a bottle of wine and some food on a table in the corner. Jaime suddenly felt quite
nervous as he looked to Brienne. If her fidgeting was any indication, she was taking note of the
room and realizing what was to come next.

“Do you want some wine?” Jaime tried to force a smile, but it felt wrong on his lips. His left hand
began to feel clammy as his heartrate increased slightly. Brienne looked to him and shook her head
in denial.

Great. So, now what?

“Are you hungry?” Fucking idiot. We just ate.

Brienne shook her head in response. “No. I’m full.”

Suddenly, Jaime remembered what he meant to give her. “Oh! I got you something!” Retreating to
the chest at the foot of the bed, Jaime reached inside and smiled at the cloth covered sword. Like a
child presenting a loved one a gift he spent a year fashioning, Jaime moved quickly to Brienne.

“For you.”

Brienne eyed the gift curiously and removed the crimson cloth. Jaime had paid an absurd amount
of coin to get a sword belt made in a matter of days. It had lion heads alternating with sunbursts on
a deep crimson belt. The sword of course was the valyrian steel that his father gifted him.

Brienne unsheathed the sword and her eyes went wide. “Valyrian steel.” Good, wench. You know
your steel.

“It was forged from Ned Stark’s ancestral sword. Unfortunately, Joffrey is to receive its twin, but I
want you to have this. You’ll use it to keep Ned Stark’s daughters safe. We’ll get Sansa out of here
and then we’ll look for Arya.”

The widest smile that Jaime had ever seen spread across Brienne’s face. His breath was taken away
at the sight. Her eyes caught the glint of candlelight off the perfected steel. Gods she is beautiful.

“It’s beautiful. I can’t accept this.”

“It’s yours. It will be wasted on me anyway.” Jaime shrugged shyly and met her eyes. “They say
the best swords have names.”

Holding her perfect smile, Brienne met Jaime’s eyes. “Oathkeeper. We’ll fulfill our vows together.
Thank you.”

Jaime felt as though his heart might leap out of his chest as stared at her. His breathing felt shallow
and not enough to keep him conscious. Did the room get ten times hotter? Seven hells.

Averting his eyes, Jaime cleared his throat. He berated himself as Brienne stepped away and the
empty space before him felt infinitely cooler. I should have kissed her. I’m shit at this.

Brienne rubbed the back of her neck and Jaime couldn’t pry his eyes off her long fingers. “Should
um… do you want to just… do you need help with your dress?”

Words? Where did they go?

“Um, I think. Yes, please. But, I don’t think they brought my things in…” Brienne looked around
the room, presumably for her sleep garments. No, I don’t imagine they did.

Jaime moved back to the chest and realized that his things were missing too. “Fuck. They didn’t
drop off anything. I’ll give you my tunic.” Without awaiting her response, Jaime pulled off his
jerkin and then moved to unlace his tunic. His hand shook slightly from nerves as he tugged at the
laces.

Brienne tried to unlace the back of her dress, but the ribbon was positioned between her shoulder
blades and tightly laced around her lean body. With his tunic removed, Jaime moved to help her.
“Gods, I think they mean for you to die in this.”

With a slight chuckle, Brienne put her hands down and let Jaime tend to the lace. Once he pulled
the knotted bow apart, he put his right arm around her waist to hold her in place as his left hand
tugged the lace loose back and forth from left to right until it was loose enough that she could step
out of the dress.

Jaime handed Brienne his tunic and turned around to give her some privacy. Kicking off his boots,
Jaime wondered if it was preferred to keep his breeches on. He heard fabric falling to the floor
before glancing backwards at Brienne’s voice. “Thank you.”

Turning to face her, Jaime took in the sight of her standing in nothing but his tunic and her
smallclothes. His cock twitched slightly at the sight of her long legs poking out from below the
fabric. Thank Gods I kept the breeches on.

Extending an arm towards the bed, Jaime watched as Brienne moved quickly to get under the furs.
There was a nervous energy in the room that unsettled Jaime as he climbed in on the other side.
For a moment, they both lay on their backs, staring at the ceiling.

Not knowing how quite to begin, Jaime could think of little more than to try and laugh the
awkwardness away. “So, your second gift is a different kind of sword I suppose.”

Brienne snorted and shook her head. “Oh Gods. That was horrible.”

“Well… you’re welcome.”

Jaime turned to meet her eyes and they both smiled softly until awkwardness settled heavy in the
air once more.
Brienne looked back to the ceiling and swallowed thickly. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to
do.”

Jaime took that as his queue to do something other than lay there in a state of panic. “Well you’re
not alone. According to my bastard soon, I’m a one-handed virgin.” “

That earned him another smile for which he was immensely grateful. Sitting up in bed beside
Brienne, Jaime looked down at her. “I won’t force you, Brienne. I could never.”

“I know you wouldn’t. I also understand the situation. I just… you’ll need to tell me what I’m
supposed to do. Do I… do you prefer if I’m not facing you?” Brienne’s face flushed as she looked
everywhere but at him.

“I would much prefer to see you.” Jaime began to unlace his breeches only to realize that he still
had the false hand on. Staring at it, he wondered if she would prefer it stay on.

Seeing his confusion, Brienne looked to him with furrowed brows. “What?”

“Do you want me to keep this one?” Jaime raised his false hand in explanation.

“No. I can’t imagine it’s comfortable.”

Jaime shrugged. “I’m told it’s unsightly without…”

“It’s not.” Brienne interrupted him and began to undo the straps that kept the hand secured to his
arm. She removed the hand and placed it on the side table. Jaime marveled at how she didn’t shy
away from his maimed arm. Of course not, she never has. I’m alive because she cared for it in the
Riverlands.

Taking a deep breath, Jaime looked back to his breeches and finished untying the laces. He
shimmied his breeches and smallclothes down as Brienne removed her smallclothes as well. Just
knowing she was practically naked beside him got Jaime half hard.

Keeping the covers over his lap, Jaime looked to Brienne and smiled nervously. The tunic he had
given her hung loosely across her chest and he could see the scars from the bear at her collarbone.
It was strangely grounding as he took a deep breath and moved over her, pushing her legs apart
with his knees.

Uncertain what to do about the tunic, Brienne gripped it slightly and looked to him. An unspoken
question in her eyes. Jaime nodded in confirmation that she should take it off which she did. Her
arms came up across her chest as she laid down on her back.

Jaime’s eyes wandered over her body. Gods. She’s amazing. His cock was completely hard in no
time as he positioned himself at her entrance. I want to kiss her, but will she want that? Is it too
much? Too intimate?

Looking to her for permission, Brienne nodded and closed her eyes as if bracing for impact. “I
won’t hurt you, Brienne. Just… tell me if you get uncomfortable.”

Brienne’s eyes snapped open to meet his. With a nod, she looked to the ceiling as Jaime slowly
sank into her. Jaime watched her jaw clench as he filled her. Seven hells. She’s so tight.

With one more push, Jaime knew he would break past her maidenhead. He hesitated, making
certain she was alright. Brienne’s breathing seemed a bit labored as she wiggled slightly under him.
“Just breathe, Brienne.”
The palm of her hands pressed flat against the bed as Brienne took a steadying breath and nodded.
Pushing forward the rest of the way, Jaime sheathed himself completely in her. He paused to make
certain she was alright. A slight grimace took hold of her features.

Jaime couldn’t bear the sight of her discomfort and stroked her temple with his thumb. As
Brienne’s eyes met his, Jaime surged forward and kissed her passionately. When she didn’t push
him away or resist, Jaime deepened the kiss as he remained still inside her.

An overwhelming warmth spread through Jaime as his lips pressed against hers and his tongue
teased at Brienne’s thick lips. When Jaime felt her kiss him back, he felt as though he might
explode.

A deep groan rumbled in his throat. Moving his right arm down her side to her leg, Jaime hooked it
around the back of her knee, bringing her leg up as he began to move in out and out slowly.

Jaime dropped his lips to her jaw and then neck. His thrusting fell into a rhythm; burying himself
deep within her before moving back out. Brienne’s arms came around his back and her hips began
to arch up instinctively into him.

Every part of Jaime felt as though it was on fire with want of her. He couldn’t get enough. Couldn’t
get deep enough. Couldn’t kiss her enough. Couldn’t touch her enough.

Another deep groan pushed past his lips as Jaime breathed her name against her neck. “Brienne.”
His head dipped to her bear scars as he dotted gentle kissed there. Brienne’s right arm ran through
his hair as her head tipped back. Jaime could feel his release building, but he wanted Brienne to
experience her pleasure first.

Dragging his lips back to hers, Jaime released her leg to balance his weight onto his right arm. His
left hand came to her breast and teased at her nipple. The gasp that left her mouth was almost
enough to do him in. Brienne wrapped her legs around his hips as Jaime worked into a frantic
rhythm.

Brienne’s breathing quickened and her body began to tense. Jaime knew she was close, and he
silently begged every God that existed to let him hold out a while longer. His lower body pressed
close against her nub with every thrust as his fingers played with her hardened nipple.

As she began to reach her peak, Brienne tipped her head back. His name on her lips was the most
extraordinary thing he had ever heard. “Jaime.”

Brienne’s walls tightened around him, pushing him over the edge with her. Jaime spilled deep
inside her as he sheathed himself as far as he could. Bringing his hand back to her cheek, Jaime
placed his lips back on hers.

He knew there was no need to maintain their union nor continue kissing, but he couldn’t stop. It felt
as though life as he knew it would end if he stopped touching her. His kisses became more
passionate as his fingers played with her hair.

Surprisingly, Brienne returned his kisses. Whether it was naivety that this was part of the process
or genuine want on her part, Jaime only cared that she never let him go.

Jaime had no idea how long he remained on top of her, kissing her with everything that he had. It
wasn’t until his arms began to shake from holding up his own weight that he knew it was time to
move.

Shifting to his left side, Jaime dragged Brienne with him so that they were face to face. When they
fell asleep, they did so pressed close together; lips, noses, and cheeks grazing one another.
 Meeting the Pride
Chapter Summary

The Lannister family arrives for Joffrey's wedding. Brienne meets some of them and
struggles to make sense of what is going on with Jaime.

Chapter Notes

Brienne POV - definitely angsty because she has no clue what is going on, but the next
chapter (Jaime POV) get into it..

It had been a week since Brienne wed Jaime and given Tywin the proof he so demanded. The
relief she felt at Tywin’s agreeing to honor the deal made with Jaime was palpable. They would
leave the city after Joffrey’s wedding which was in two days’ time.

Brienne still couldn’t make sense of it all. Why wouldn’t he take a better wife? Someone he won’t
be embarrassed by. Someone he can be attracted to and have a family with.

More perplexing was the night of their wedding. Something in his eyes and the way he kissed her
made Brienne feel as though there was something more on his part. Brienne knew that Jaime could
never love her as she did him, but perhaps he could grow to find her tolerable.

The morning after their bedding had been awkward at best. Jaime seemed withdrawn and avoided
looking at her. Mayhap because I’m in the daylight now. It was a sobering feeling to a night that
felt hopeful.

Over the next week, they lay in the same bed, but he did not touch her. Brienne reminded herself
that they only did as Tywin bid them so that they could leave the city peacefully with Sansa. This
isn’t for me. This isn’t a marriage of love. This is a marriage born of duty to fulfill an oath. Best
not to get attached.

Jaime had been busy during the days at Tywin’s side. It was important to Tywin that Jaime leave
the city with full understanding for what was expected of him as Lord of Casterly Rock and
Warden of the West. Jaime often returned from long days spent under his father’s thumb; a weary
expression on his face.

To pass the days, Brienne took to walking the gardens with Sansa. It was a welcome distraction for
her shortcomings as a wife to Jaime and made her feel as though she was fulfilling her oath. She
would build a bond with the young woman and ensure her safety at any cost.

Sansa had begun to warm up to her after the wedding. The girl was still reserved and wore a mask
that made it difficult for Brienne to read her true feelings, but at least Sansa was speaking to her
more openly.

They sat in the gardens speaking of trivial things when Sansa’s brows furrowed in consideration.
Looking to Brienne, the young girl spoke in hushed tones. “When you… had the bedding… did it
hurt?”

Brienne felt her face flush and she began to shift in her seat. “At first, yes. Ser Jaime was very
gentle though. He made certain I was comfortable.”

Sansa nodded in understanding and looked to the fountain before them. “How has it been since?”

Embarrassment washed over Brienne’s features. She shifted and looked around the garden to
ensure there was no one close to hear her reply. “We have not. It was a condition of our getting you
out so soon. We did what he had to.”

Sansa’s eyes widened in shock as she studied Brienne. “Oh. Do you not care for him?”

“He is a good man, but I did not expect a true marriage in this.”

“Why not?”

“I am not someone a man would wish to take as a wife. I knew that going into this. My place in this
life is to serve. I meant what I said. I will protect you as I would have your mother.” Brienne smiled
to convey her sincerity, but Sansa did not return the sentiment.

I hope I did not upset her by mentioning Lady Catelyn.

“My mother was lucky to have you, as am I, but I don’t think you value yourself as much as you
should.”

Brienne’s heart went out to the young woman. Gods she is so young and naïve as I once was.
“Unfortunately, Lady Sansa, how I value myself matters little in this world. My worth is
determined by society and I have been found wanting. I learned this lesson long ago and I’ve made
peace with it.”

Sansa moved to protest, but Tyrion’s voice cut through the space between them. “There they are!”
Tyrion and Jaime moved quickly through the gardens with an older woman between them; a hand
on each of their arms.

“Our lovely wives. Lady Sansa, Lady Brienne, this is our Aunt Genna. She and our cousins have
arrived for Joffrey’s wedding.” Sansa curtseyed and offered a small smile as Brienne bowed.

Genna chuckled and met Brienne’s eyes; an inquisitive brow raised. “Was that a bow?”

Brienne felt a blush creep up her neck at the words. She noted the apparent disappointment in
Jaime’s features. “I’m sorry my lady. I never mastered the curtsey.”

“No, I imagine not. You’re more warrior than maid. Well… mayhap maid is no longer applicable.”
Genna snickered as Jaime’s face reddened to a shade rivaling Brienne’s.

He looked away and spoke through gritted teeth towards his aunt’s ear. “Aunt Genna! Gods.”

Sansa’s face settled into its usual cool mask. “I assure you, she is both maid and warrior. You need
only take the time to get to know her.”

Genna raised a brow and offered a pleased nod. “I see you’ve found your voice little one. Good.
Someone needs to keep my nephew in line. Come, lets go back to the castle. The cousins wish to
see you.”
Perfect. More beautiful Lannisters to meet and horrify. Brienne felt dread pool in her stomach as
they walked towards the Keep. Taking Sanas’s arm, Genna spoke to her on various topics that
Brienne paid little mind to. The brothers spoke quietly in front of her before Jaime fell back to walk
beside Brienne.

“My aunt can be a bit overbearing. She means well though. I think you’ll like her.” Jaime smiled
one of those smiles that Brienne could hardly figure out.

It wasn’t his cutting smile that he offered the people of court or an enemy before battle. It wasn’t
the fake smile he offered most of his kin. It wasn’t a polite smile that one would afford for the sake
of propriety. It was something that made Brienne’s heart flutter and her foolish heart read too much
into.

Like a passing cloud blocking the sun, Jaime’s smile dropped, and a shadow moved over his face.
“My entire family will be in there. If you rather not go, I can tell them you are not feeling well.”

Oh. Yes, he likely doesn’t want me there to embarrass him. “I understand. I can stay in the room
for the day.” One of Jaime’s fake smiles tugged at his lips and Brienne felt her spirits drop. As
they made their way inside, Brienne nodded slightly to Jaime and turned down the corridor to their
room.

When she pushed the door open and stepped inside, it truly Brienne her how miserable she was.
She had of course expected that Jaime would never attempt to bed her again. She did not however
expect to be deemed such an embarrassment that she would be relegated to a bedroom every time
guests arrived.

For the first time since Brienne left to serve Renly, Brienne missed home. She was always an
oddity there, but an expected oddity. The people of Tarth had endured her for nearly two decades
before she left home, so they had come to accept her presence.

On the mainland, she was preferred behind a helm or not at all. Confined to the shadows and now
in a marriage with a man who could never love her, Brienne realized how torturous this would be.
Remember what you are. My place is to serve and that is what I will do for Lady Sansa.

Brienne took a seat on the balcony and looked out over King’s Landing. She watched the bustling
city in the distance and wondered if her father had received any word of her. Brienne had not
written since leaving for Renly’s war. Eventually Brienne grabbed a book from the chest and sat
back down to read.

Brienne wasn’t aware how much time has passed, but soon the bedroom door burst open as a group
of Lannisters came inside. Standing in surprise, Brienne’s eyes met Jaime’s. “I’m sorry. I didn’t
realize you would come here. I can go the gardens.”

His eyes seemed to convey an apology; for what Brienne was not certain. Genna pushed past him
with a young child no more than three years old on her hip. Brienne felt her heart lighten at the
sight and a smile spread across her face. She always loved children, but it was made clear by her
Septa that her presence would only frighten an innocent child so she kept her distance.

Behind Genna were four young women clearly of Lannister decent. A babe was on woman’s hip
and Brienne could see Tyrion and Sansa hovering in the background.

Genna moved into the room and took a seat on the chaise lounge in the center. “Oh, hush now
child, we’re here to visit you. My dolt nephew thought it best to keep you hidden away from his
cunt of sister and Joffrey.” The way Genna said ‘Joffrey’ dripped with disdain and the young
women chuckled slightly as they looked to one another in obvious agreement.

Genna barked at Tyrion to close the door and then turned back to Brienne. “This is Janei, Kevan’s
daughter. This is Joy Hill, my brother Gerion’s daughter. This little one at my hip is hers, Tyrk.
This is Cerenna and Myrielle. They are my cousin’s girls. The babe there is Margot. Don’t worry,
we won’t quiz you later. I can barely remember my own name as it is. We have a rather large
family. The rest are still suffering through Cersei and Joffrey is tormenting some of the younger
ones.”

The women all sat down in what chairs were available. The two youngest looking women, Cerenna
and Myrielle, took seats on the bed and giggled about ‘what most go on here’.

Not much. Just your cousin begging the Stranger to take him.

Brienne sat on the chest at the foot of the bed and Jaime quickly sat next to her. His leg and hip
pressed against hers and it sent a jolt of want throughout Brienne’s body. Gods. Why must he
always sit so damn close?

Joy, Janei, and Genna sat before them and stared at Brienne as though she was on trial. Genna
smirked to the girls. “Didn’t I tell you.”

Joy chuckled as the babe on lap giggled and chewed on her tiny fist. “Please Aunt Genna. We’re
not surprised he fell for a female knight.”

“Alright enough.” Jaime crossed his arms and huffed in frustration at Brienne’s side.

Janei feigned innocence and looked to him. “What? Can’t we enjoy seeing you finally besotted and
married.”

Gods. This must be horrible for him.

Brienne tried to come to Jaime’s rescue as he gaped at them with reddening ears. “Married, yes. He
is just eager to due his duty for his family.”

With a firm nod and kind smile to Jaime, she watched as his brows furrowed before he stammered
a reply. “Alirght… let me have my cousin now. You ladies are annoying him and me.” Jaime
sprung up to grab Tyrk from Genna.

Genna waved him off dismissively as the Jaime took the giggling boy to the other end of their
room by the fireplace. The boy obviously knew Jaime as he squealed in delight once in Jaime’s
arms.

Tyrion was eager to join Jaime as Sansa took Jaime’s spot beside Brienne on the chest. The women
prattled on, but Brienne could hardly take her eyes off the sight of Jaime playing with Tyrk.

He was shockingly good with the young boy. Jaime played with him endlessly, throwing him up in
the air and giving piggyback rides. He let the boy climb on him like a tree and then they played tag
around the furniture and a half-conscious Tyrion who appeared to be napping in between sips of
wine.

At one point, the younger babe on Joy’s lap caught Brienne’s eye. Gods she is cute. The little one’s
soft curls were a wild mess and the babe’s green eye were locked on her. High pitched squeals
escaped the babe’s mouth as she animatedly pointed to Brienne.

“Margot seems to like you cousin.” Joy lifted a brow and extended the babe to Brienne. A wave of
anxiety hit Brienne as she tried to protest. “Oh no, babes don’t much like me. I think its more
shock at the sight.”

Joy ignored Brienne and plopped the babe into her lap. Margot giggled and reached for Brienne’s
face. Her chubby little legs bounced and tried to stand in Brienne’s arms. Sansa snorted from her
side. “I don’t think that’s shock. Margot seems quite content with you. She screamed in my face
when I held her before.”

Brienne shook her head. “She was likely just tired or overwhelmed. Here.” Trying to pass the babe
to Sansa, the little one began screaming and clawing back towards Brienne. Sansa chuckled and
shook her head. “Told you.”

Holding the babe up to face her, Brienne spoke to the little one as though she understood the
babbling. The babe giggled and grabbed at Brienne’s hair and nose.

They carried on together for some time as the other women spoke. Brienne was thrilled to be
allowed the opportunity to hold a babe. A slight sadness took hold knowing that she would never
have one of her own.

Eventually the babe fell asleep on Brienne’s shoulder as she rubbed soothing circles into Margot’s
back. It wasn’t until she looked up that Brienne saw Jaime staring at her with a strange expression
on his face. When their eyes met, he quickly looked away and went back to playing with Tyrk.

The next days passed quickly; filled with small feasts for newly arrived guests and more Lannister
introductions. Gods there are more Lannisters than there are people on Tarth.

Jaime had left their room early at his father’s insistence. He was to join Tywin for a morning
meeting with some of the vassals from the West. The attendants had come by and dropped off yet
another wretched dress for Brienne to wear that day. Gods help me. I can’t wait to get out of this
city and never wear another dress again.

A light knock came at the door and took Brienne from her thoughts. Making her way to the door,
Brienne surmised it was another attendant coming by with more instructions from Tywin. Brienne
pulled back the door and came face to face with Genna Lannister.

“Oh, good morning Lady Genna.” Brienne bowed stiffly, but Genna pushed past her into the room.
“Enough of that child. You’re my goodniece, not an attendant.”

Genna helped herself to a seat at the table near the balcony and motioned for Brienne to join her.
As Brienne sat down, she looked at Genna questioningly.

Before Brienne could offer water, Genna began speaking. “You know, when Jaime’s mother died,
I practically raised him and his siblings. I think of Jaime as one of my own and, if I’m being
honest, he’s my favorite of all the nieces and nephews.”

Brienne smiled at Genna, but kept her mouth shut as the older woman continued speaking. “Jaime
is very important to me and he deserves nothing but the best. I want to see him happy. Do you
understand that?”

With a small nod, Brienne began fiddling with the hem of her tunic. She knew where the
conversation was headed and worried over the implications. The obvious was about to be stated
before she even left King’s Landing with Sansa. I have no business being married to someone like
Jaime.

“You know what I’m about to say, don’t you?” Genna’s eyes were locked on Brienne. It was an
unnerving feeling and Brienne wanted nothing more than to flee the room. Looking to Genna,
Brienne nodded in understanding.

Genna looked to her expectantly and tilted her head. “Well…”

Oh. She means for me to say it.

“I…” Brienne closed her mouth and collected herself before continuing. “I understand how this
must look to all of you and I’m very sorry for it. I know that he deserves better. I told him that he
should take a wife worthy of him. Someone who wouldn’t embarrass him. Someone he could be
attracted to. I don’t know why he…” No, that’s a lie. I know he asked me because it is a shared
oath. Brienne shook her head and stopped talking.

Genna’s brows knitted in confusion. She leaned back in her chair and appraised Brienne. “I shall
need to have a conversation with my dolt nephew. I merely came by to tell you how important he is
to me and to treat him well… or you’ll answer to me.”

Standing from her seat, Genna patted Brienne’s shoulder and moved towards the door. She paused
and turned to assess Brienne. Her eyes narrowed in consideration. “Jaime has always had a difficult
time expressing himself verbally, but he has the most love to give. He puts everything he has into
protecting the ones he loves; even at the cost of his own wants and needs. Jaime speaks with his
actions. Just consider that.”
 I Hope You Choke On Your Pie
Chapter Summary

Joffrey's wedding day arrives.

Jaime walked out from the meeting with the vassals on the morning of Joffrey’s wedding. Heading
back to his room, he reflected on how miserable the meeting had been listening to the lords’ drone
on about petty disputes and trivial matters.

As he made his way down the hallway of the keep towards his room, a flummoxed looking Genna
came striding towards him. “There you are. Come speak with me now.” Seven hells. I need to get
ready for this shit wedding.

Genna pulled Jaime by the arm towards her assigned room which was just a few down from his
own. They stepped inside and Jaime scoffed at the sight before him. Chests were stacked all
around the room, filled with Gods knows what. His aunt never traveled light.

“Guess where I just was?” Genna crossed her arms and tapped her foot; a challenging brow raised.
Jaime knew the look all too well. After his mother died on the birthing bed, Genna practically
moved in to raise him, Cersei, and Tyrion. He saw that look many times over the years and it rarely
meant a pleasant conversation was coming his way.

“Oh hells. Did the kitchens run out of lemon cakes already? You seem pissed enough for that to be
it.” Genna huffed in annoyance at Jaime’s words and pointed to the chaise lounge. Taking a seat,
Jaime waited for the verbal assault to come.

Genna poured herself a glass of wine and sat down beside him. “The first thing I asked of you
when I arrived in this shit city was if your father forced this marriage on you. If you were happy. If
you loved the girl. Do you recall what you told me?”

With a heavy sigh, Jaime pinched the bridge of the nose. “Yes, I recall.”

“Good. Now for the past week I’ve watched you spend barely a minute with that girl. Last night
when I asked after your wedded life, you seemed less enthusiastic. You made it seem as though
you were neglected. Your affections unreturned.”

Jaime’s eyes widened and he reeled back. “I did not say any of that!”

“Oh, please boy. I practically raised you. Unlike your siblings, I can read you like a book. You’re
not happy. Well I went ahead and confronted the girl today.”

Jaime felt his stomach drop. The panic must have been as easy to read as his other emotions
because Genna huffed knowingly and took a long sip of her wine. “Yes, that’s right. I didn’t think
she deserved you, although I didn’t say that. I might have alluded to it.”

For the first time since their conversation began, Genna looked guilty, yet somehow still indignant.
Jaime’s mouth gaped as he mustered a reply. “Why would you do that!?”

Genna waved him off dismissively and shook her head. With a sigh, she turned back to Jaime. “Do
you know what she told me? That she was sorry for it and that you deserve better. Someone worthy
of you who won’t embarrass you. Someone you could be attracted to.”

Jaime grimaced at the words. His heart ached that Brienne was made to feel that way. More so than
anything, Jaime was enraged at the situation he found himself in.

An exasperated sigh pushed past Genna’s lips. “How could you marry this girl and not tell her the
truth of your feelings for her?” Jaime explained the whole of it to Genna; from the moment he met
Brienne until the moment Tywin bid him leave the Kingsguard. He spared no detail. Genna was
someone that he could trust implicitly.

She sat quietly taking it all in and shook her head at him. “Gods. You can be such a dolt, Jaime!
How have you not told her?”

The day after the wedding played out in Jaime’s mind. Just the thought of it sent him into a blind
rage again. He has slipped out of their chambers before Brienne awoke. He wanted to tell her the
truth of his feelings, but he also wanted to do so while she was comfortable. Knowing Brienne, that
would require clothing.

On his way to fetch her things, Jaime saw Joffrey and Cersei outside Brienne’s previously assigned
room. They were barking orders at the staff who were rapidly removing Brienne’s few belongings.
“What are you doing!?”

Cersei turned towards him and sneered. “Shouldn’t you be off fucking your cow?” Before Jaime
could respond, Joffrey took a step towards him. His lips curled into distaste. “You threatened me
last night in front of everyone. I will not be made to look like a fool by my cripple uncle. I’ve
decided on your punishment.”

The boy’s face transformed from disdain to one of sardonic pleasure. “Ser Loras tells me that your
cow killed Uncle Renly. He wants her head. Mother and I have discussed the matter and she gave
me a wonderful idea. You’re obviously smitten with the beast. If you make her feel loved or
included, I’ll place her head on a spike as punishment for the death of Uncle Renly. Then you can
watch the crows enjoy her.”

Jaime looked to Cersei’s; eyes wide in shock. This is her idea. Joffrey would never think of such a
scheme on his own. A cruel smile curled at Cersei’s lips. “You know how far my reach here
extends brother. Don’t try anything foolish or King Joffrey will know. The cow is easy to read with
her wide eyes. We’ll know if she is miserable or pleased.”

Consumed with despair, Jaime shuffled back to his room and moved into the bed. His heart broke
at the sight of Brienne, but her safety was more important than his heart.

Sitting now in Genna’s room, he told her all of it. Genna was horrified at the situation and had half
a mind to introduce Cersei to the Stranger. After talking Genna down, Jaime sighed and looked to
her. “This will all be over on the morrow. I’ll leave this fucking city with Brienne, Tyrion, and
Sansa. Cersei and Joff can’t touch us then.”

Genna pulled Jaime close against her chest and ran a soothing hand through his hair as she used to
in his childhood. For a moment, his problems seemed to melt away. “It’s alright child. We can fix
this. We’ll get her to the Rock. Mayhap invite her father to visit and have a special feast. You can
tell her the truth of your feelings and why this shit happened. She hasn’t left you yet.”

Making his way back to his room, Jaime took a deep breath as he opened the door. He moved
inside and found Brienne struggling with yet another dress that his father had forced on her. This
dress looked very Lannister and Jaime knew it to be his father’s influence.

Brienne’s voice reflected her surprise at seeing him. “Oh. I’m sorry. I thought you had left already
or were still at the meeting.”

“Has my family not provided you a handmaiden for this?” Gods they are truly the worst.

“It’s alright. It’s not worth the effort.”

Moving quickly to her, Jaime offered to help, but Brienne backed away. “Truly, it’s fine. You
don’t need to. I’ll figure it out.”

Appraising the dress, Jaime sighed and ran a hand through his hair. I can’t do this with one hand.
“Just, give me a moment.” Moving quickly back to his aunt’s room, Jaime tugged Genna along
and explained the situation.

“Truly, Jaime. I would hardly blame you if you decided to throw Cersei off the highest balcony of
this shit keep. I could be a witness and say that she did not receive the news well that the last of the
wine barrels was empty.” Something in Genna’s tone sent Jaime into a fit of laughter.

They reached the door and Genna shushed him. “Stop it! Brienne will think you’ve been laughing
at her.” With a pat to Jaime’s cheek, Genna moved inside and rushed to aid Brienne.

Genna brought Brienne back to her room while Jaime got dressed. When everyone was ready, they
made their way to the Sept for the ceremony which, mercifully, passed quickly. They were soon
back at the keep for an outdoor feast.

Jaime appraised the décor and his nose wrinkled in distaste. Gods, what a waste of coin. And what
the fuck do they intend to do with these ridiculous, gold lion heads after this feast? I’m not
escorting this shit back to the Rock.

Jaime and Brienne were soon ushered to the head table by Tywin. The table was long and
rectangular. The Tyrells sat on one side and the Lannisters sat on the other. Brienne sat at Jaime’s
left next to Sansa and Tyrion. On Jaime’s right was Tywin, with Cersei and Tommen next to him.

The feast started out traditional enough with guests coming up to offer their blessings to the new
couple. Joffrey, the little shit he was, quickly dismissed most of the well-wishers.

Then everything took an unexpected turn. Joffrey stood up to announce a surprise entertainment for
the assembled guests. “As you may know, my uncle and new goodaunt wed just a week ago.
Sadly, most of you had no time to prepare nor attend. It was quite rushed.”

The insinuation was clear. He made Brienne out to be a whore with child. Why else would nobles
wed so hastily. Joffrey glanced sideways at Jaime and Brienne before looking back to the guests.

“In honor of their union, I’ve requested a retelling of their love story. I do hope they enjoy it as
much as I imagine all of you will.”

Seven hells. What is he doing?

Several performers came on stage before them. One was dressed as a large bear. The other was in
costume as a cow in silks. Several performers played the part of the Bolton soldiers, singing the
Bear and the Maiden Fair. And of course, there was a fool with a missing hand.

The performance made Jaime out to be some useless dolt who jumped into the pit but was
ultimately the one needing to be saved. The bear pretended to cower away at Brienne’s ugliness.
Brienne ‘the cow’ was even mounted by the one-handed fool at the end in ‘thanks’ for saving him.

The guests laughed uproariously, and Jaime felt a deep hate pool in his gut as he looked to Joffrey.
Brienne kept quiet but hung her head in embarrassment. It was Tywin who eventually stood and
called for an end to the shit performance.

Unwilling to stand for it any longer, Jaime pushed back his chair and encouraged Brienne to leave
with him. “We’ve been here long enough. Lets go.” Before Brienne could move, Joffrey turned his
attention on Jaime.

“Uncle. I did not dismiss you. Sit down.”

Jaime had to fight the urge to grab a sword and run his shit seed through with it. Sitting back down,
Jaime seethed and took a sip of his wine. At his side, Tywin muttered in warning. “Do not make
another scene Jaime. He is your King.”

Joffrey smiled viciously and walked over to stand behind Jaime. With his cup of wine in hand,
Joffrey slowly poured it over Jaime’s head. Jaime heard Brienne’s huff of irritation beside him, but
he put a calming hand on hers in a scene reminiscent to their dinner with Bolton.

Jaime sneered and spoke without turning to face Joffrey. “I’m the fool with one hand, yet it is you
who can’t hold his own wine.”

Joffrey snapped at Jaime and leaned down towards the side of his head. “I can hold my wine,
uncle! It was not an accident.”

Margaery’s voice carried over the silenced crowed. “My love, come back here. It’s time for
father’s toast.”

Joffrey moved back over towards his new bride but cast a mocking glance back at Jaime. “Of
course, but sadly, it seems I’ve no wine left. Uncle, surely you can lend a hand. Come, be my
cupbearer.”

Jaime returned the false smile from his seat. “Your Grace has done me a great honor.”

The young king snapped back at Jaime; a grunt of frustration pushing past his lips. “It was not
meant as an honor.”

Jaime stood slowly and looked to Brienne. Her eyes were filled with worry as he moved around the
table. Moving towards Joffrey, Jaime extended his left hand to take the cup.

“It is customary to receive with your right hand, uncle.” Jaime scowled at Joffrey’s words and
tilted his head. It took every bit of restraint not to offer his right hand to the side of Joffrey’s head.

“Oh… that’s right. I forgot how useless you are. Go on then. Use your left.” Before Jaime could
take the cup, Joffrey dropped it. “Gods, you are useless with that hand. Have you truly so little
practice with it?”

Jaime bent at the waist to pick up the cup, but Joffrey quickly kicked it away and under the table.
“Bring me my cup.” Moving towards the table, Jaime moved to retrieve the cup, but it was Brienne
who reached under the table and stood to hand it to him.

As she handed Jaime the cup, their hands brushed against one another. The contact sent a spark
throughout Jaime’s body. Just keep your mouth shut. For Brienne. Keep her, Sansa, and Tyrion
safe by not killing this miserable shit. This will all be over soon.

Jaime brought the cup back to Joffrey who scoffed at him. “What good is an empty cup? Fill it!”

Jaime put the cup down on the table and picked up the carafe. With barely concealed hate for the
boy, Jaime glared at Joffrey and extended his hand which held the cup.

“Kneel before your king.”

Jaime stood still and continued glaring at Joffrey. How about I just strangle the life from you here
and now?

“Kneel.”

Still, Jaime stood still and held his gaze.

“I said… kneel!”

Before something more cataclysmic could happen, Margaery shouted out. “Look! The pie!”

Joffrey and Jaime glared at one another for a moment longer before the little shit took the cup and
turned away. Retrieving Widow’s Wail from the table, Joffrey smiled and looked to the pie after
taking a sip of his wine.

Jaime moved back to his place between Tywin and Brienne who now stood along with the guests
in anticipation of the pie Joffrey was to slice into. His father muttered under his breath. “Next
time… kneel.”

Ignoring Tywin, Jaime looked out at the massive pie that he knew to contain the stupid bids meant
to fly away when Joffrey valiantly slew the lifeless object. I hope the birds shit on his head as they
fly off.

“Are you alright?” Brienne whispered at Jaime’s side. Turning to meet her eyes, Jaime felt his own
eyes go soft. I’m sorry I haven’t been able to tell you. I’m sorry you’re made to feel as miserable as
I do.

Jaime’s attention was drawn back to Joffrey at the sound of cheering. The birds had either flown
off or had their entrails dripping down the side of the stupid pie.

Looking back to Brienne, Jaime brushed his hand against hers. “Lets go now.”

Joffrey and Margaery stood together before the guests. The new queen began to feed Joffrey pieces
of pie, but after a few forkfuls, Joffrey turned towards them. “Uncle! Where are you going? You’re
my cupbearer, remember?”

Jaime cast an apologetic look at Brienne before turning to Joffrey. “I thought that I would change
out of these wet clothes.”

Joffrey continued shoveling pie into his mouth as he shook his head. “No. You’re perfect the way
you are. Get me my wine.”

With a despondent look back to Brienne, Jaime rounded the table as Brienne sat back down. “Well
hurry up, uncle! This pie is dry.”

Jaime went back to Joffrey’s place setting to retrieve the wine that he had previously handed the
brat. Joffrey took the offered cup and began guzzling the liquid. “Mmmm, that’s good.”
Jaime stood to the side and huffed. “Your Grace, my wife and I are quite tired. Newlyweds and
all… you know how it is.”

“No!” Joffrey looked to Jaime and glared. “You’ll stand there and bring me more…” Joffrey began
to cough before he could finish his sentence. Moving to speak, his voice again failed him as he
struggled to clear his throat.

Joffrey sipped more wine and continued to struggle as Jaime took a few steps forward. “Your
Grace?”

Joffrey clutched at his gold jerkin as though it was the source of discomfort. His eyes became
watery as he continued to cough. “It’s nothing.” The boy could muster little more than that as he
continued coughing violently.

Jaime watched as the head table slowly rose in concern. Silence fell over the assembled guests as
Joffrey struggled for breath.

“He’s choking!” Margaery shouted out for aid as Joffrey began to stumble forward. His face began
to purple as air eluded him.

“Help your king! Someone!” Olenna jumped from her seat and waved at the guards. Jaime felt as
though everything was happening in slow motion. Joffrey dropped the cup and fell to the ground,
gasping for air. His eyes were bulging and red as his faced turned an even deeper shade of purple
than it had moments prior.

Cersei ran from her seat and pushed past Jaime. Looking at Joffrey, Jaime could see the boy
beginning to vomit up the pie he had just eaten. Jaime took a few steps towards Cersei and Joffrey,
but it was as though he was watching everything from outside his body.

Tywin moved quickly to Jaime’s side and looked down at the scene before them. As Cersei rolled
Joffrey over, blood could be seen spilling from the boy’s nose and mouth. “Joffrey! Please!” Her
cries were piercing as Joffrey looked to her in fear. “Joffrey! What is it!? Please!”

The boy began convulsing violently as the veins in his face bulged; matching the swell of his eyes.
Looking around at the ground as though it held the answer, Jaime saw the discarded cup. He
picked it up and inspected it before looking back to Cersei and Joffrey.

As he sucked in his last breaths, Joffrey pointed a condemning figure at Jaime. The boy took his
final breath before meeting the Stranger. Cersei flew into a rage as she glared at Jaime. “You did
this! You poisoned my son! Our king! Take him! Take him now!”

The guards moved quickly and grabbed Jaime’s arms, pulling him towards the keep. Jaime’s eyes
darted to Tywin who stood in a stupor. Quickly looking back at the table, Jaime’s eyes sought out
the only person who mattered. Brienne. I didn’t do it.
 Nothing Else Matters
Chapter Summary

Jaime is brought to his cell following the Purple Wedding. He receives two visitors
that day.

The guards threw Jaime into a cell in the bowels of the Keep. At least its not the Black Cells. The
small cell smelled of mold and a small amount of light cast lazy shadows on the floor. One corner
of the cell had a small bed with straw lazily thrown on top of it.

With a heavy sigh, Jaime sat on the floor against a single beam that stood in the center of the room.
He had no idea how much time passed, but the door slowly opened to reveal Brienne. Jaime
scrambled to his feet and offered a small bow. “My lady.”

Brienne rolled her eyes. “What? No, ‘Is that a woman?’ You’ve lost your edge, Ser Jaime.” Taking
appraisal of the room, Jaime smiled at the sight of her. She was still in the dress she wore to the
wedding; likely having come to see him without finding something more comfortable to wear first.

The thought that she came to see him before seeing to her own comfort warmed Jaime’s heart.
Continuing to follow Brienne with his eyes as she walked around the room, Jaime watched the
remnant rays of sunlight catch her hair and eyes; making them shine even brighter than usual.

“Are you alright? Well… aside from all this…” Brienne gestured to the room and the implication
of the situation which hung heavy between them.

Jaime smiled and replied sarcastically. “I’ve spent so much time in a cell these past years, that I
feel more at home in here than any bedroom levels up. Truly though, we need to stop meeting
under these circumstances. You’ll start to think me incapable of doing anything other than
wallowing in my own piss and shit while chained to a post.”

A sad smile flickered across Brienne’s face as she reached into the bodice of her dress, producing a
small flask of water. “Here. I don’t imagine they have the attendants coming by to tend to you.”

Jaime snorted at the sight. “Leave it to you to find a more functional use for a dress. I’m afraid to
ask what you’ve stashed under the skirt.”

With a very serious expression on her face, Brienne reached down and unstrapped a dagger that she
had tied off around her right thigh. “I brought this for you too. Just in case.”

Gods I love her.

“What? No sword? By chance, do you have a sandwich tucked somewhere in the dress? I’m quite
hungry. I was only served wine atop my head during the feast.” At his words, Brienne rolled her
eyes and Jaime could not longer suppress his laughter.

Pulling Brienne towards the bed, Jaime sat down beside her. He placed the flask on the floor and
ran his flesh hand through his hair. A brief silence hung heavy in the room before Jaime turned to
meet Brienne’s eyes. “I didn’t do it.”
“Of course. I know you wouldn’t murder your own…” The words died on her tongue, but it didn’t
need saying.

“Oh no, to be clear, I would kill him. I conjured a number of ways in fact, but not poison. Not my
style.” Jaime chuckled as his brain began to recall it’s roaming thoughts over the past week. When
he wasn’t fantasizing about bedding Brienne, he was inventing new and more painful ways to rid
Westeros of Joffrey.

“You have every right to be upset, but…” Before Brienne could finish, Jaime cut her off. “He
insulted you. He did so on more than one occasion and in a very public setting. Trust me, by the
time I was done with him, he would have been begging to meet the Stranger.”

As she took in his words, Brienne’s mouth gaped in shock. “He insulted you far more than me.”

Jaime locked eyes with Brienne. He wanted her to see the sincerity in what he was to tell her.
“Nothing he said about me was untrue. I have one hand. My maiming has rendered me useless.
That did not bother me. What he said about you and what he implied about you is untrue and that
insults me. I told you that I would never let him insult you again and I failed on that promise.”

“You did not fail, and you are far from useless. He was the King and he could have killed you!
Your life is worth more than words spoken to me. I’ve heard it all before and I am well aware of
my appearance. Refraining from speaking it aloud doesn’t make it untrue.”

“You’re wrong! All of Westeros calls me Kingslayer, except you. And why is that?”

Brienne’s brows knitted in confusion at the question. “Because I know the truth of it, and they
don’t.”

“Just like all of Westeros could say you’re ugly, but I know the truth of it. You’re the most
beautiful woman I’ve ever met; inside and out.”

Brienne sighed and began to argue his point. “I appreciate what you’re attempting to do, but we
both know that I’m…”

Jaime pressed his lips firm against Brienne’s; effectively halting her protest. He kissed her with
everything he had, hoping she could feel all his love poured into one kiss. Once the initial shock
had worn off, Brienne kissed him back; her hands shyly moving to cup his jaw. Jaime felt his cock
harden instantly at the contact.

Pushing Brienne back down onto the dingy bed, Jaime moved over her as his kisses became more
urgent. Without halting the torrent of kisses, Jaime tugged at the laces of his breeches and pushed
them down to his knees along with his smallclothes.

Jaime hiked up Brienne’s skirt and pushed into her as though his life depended on it. The cell
around them faded away as Jaime found himself consumed with all things Brienne. The feel of her
around him. The touch of her lips on his. The sight of her sapphire eyes meeting his eyes.

Jaime’s lips grazed Brienne’s as he refused to break eye contact. “I love you so much.”

Brienne gasped at his words and ran her hands through his hair as her hips arched up to meet his
thrusts. “I love you too.”

“I really hope you don’t have any other weapons hidden under here.”

Brienne chuckled at his words, but the small laughter turned into a gasp as Jaime angled her leg
higher and thrust deeper. The feeling was unlike anything Jaime experienced before.

On their wedding night, being with Brienne felt amazing, but being with her now when he knew
his love requited was an altogether different thing. His heart felt full and he momentarily forgot
about the dread of what was to come. Accused of killing another king, but this time he was
innocent of the crime.

As Jaime felt Brienne’s walls begin to tighten around him, he allowed his own release to follow;
his seed spilling deep into her. Brienne’s release heightened his own as Jaime felt her body spasm
around his cock. Placing a tender kiss to her lips, Jaime thrust deep once or twice more before
stilling. Abruptly, the cell door flew open.

Both Brienne and Jaime turned their heads in surprise to see a stunned Tywin Lannister staring at
them wide-eyed. Before Jaime could scream at him to the fuck out, Tywin threw up his hand in
apology and quickly moved from the room. “Take you time in there!”

Jaime looked back apologetically to Brienne whose face was bright red and radiating heat. “Gods.
Your father really wants heirs, doesn’t he? I’ve never seen him so accommodating.”

A loud guffaw pushed past Jaime’s lips. “Brienne Lannister of Tarth, was that a jape? Truly my
family is rubbing off on you.”

“I um… should go.” Brienne muttered the words and looked everywhere but at Jaime.

I could kill my father. At least then they could try me for both crimes at once since they’ll find me
guilty no matter what.

Gently placing his hand on Brienne’s cheek, Jaime forced her eyes back to his. “Do you trust me
still?” Brienne’s facial expression grew serious as she held his eyes and answered. “Of course.”

“Then trust what I said. To me, you are beautiful. I love you. I have for some time and I should
have told you sooner.”

A shy smile spread across Brienne’s face and she nodded. Jaime knew that he had to break their
union, but he feared that when he did, the despair would creep back in. Despair at not having her in
his arms. Despair at forever being separated if the trial did not go his way.

Sitting back on his heels, Jaime pulled up his breeches, shoving his half hard cock back into his
smallclothes. Brienne took pity and helped him tie the laces faster than he could with one hand. He
smiled warmly at her before a teasing smile tugged at his lips.

Brienne looked at him curiously. “What?”

Jaime bit back a laugh as he watched her smooth out her skirts. “Very functional indeed. I quite like
you in a dress.”

Brienne swatted his chest but glanced sideways at him; a warm smile on her lips. Standing with
her, Jaime pulled Brienne into a tight embrace. “Will you visit tomorrow?”

Jaime could feel Brienne smile into his neck. “Of course.” Breaking the embrace, they both looked
to the door and grimaced. Brienne’s face began to redden again knowing she would be walking
right by Tywin on the way out.

With a final glance over her shoulder, Brienne opened the door to make her exit. As expected,
Tywin stood just outside the door.
Biting back a laugh as Brienne scurried past Tywin, Jaime moved to sit on the bed as his father
came into the room looking far too delighted for Jaime’s liking. “Well, I’m pleased to see you have
not been neglecting your duties to our house.”

Looking to Tywin as though he was half mad, Jaime scoffed. “Yes, well there is the minor
complication of my being accused of killing the king. It will matter little whether I’ve done my
duty to house Lannister when my head is on a spike.”

Tywin stood rigid with his hands clasped behind his back. “Nonsense. The trial will be in three
days’ time. You will be found innocent and cleared of the crime. Then you will leave for the Rock
with your wife.”

Rolling his eyes, Jaime leaned back against the wall. “You don’t know Cersei very well if you
think she won’t be spending every minute until the trial begins seeking out false witnesses.”

“Let me handle your sister. You just don’t do or say anything stupid at the trial. You will sit there
silently without causing a scene. This will be over with soon.”

Sighing and looking around the dingy room, Tywin’s lips curled in distaste. “Obviously you can’t
stay in the family wing while standing accused of murdering the king, but I’ll see you moved to
somewhere more accommodating and befitting your status. I won’t have the future leader of our
house planted in your wife’s womb from within this cell.”

“Yes, we wouldn’t want that, now would we? Lets be certain that only the finest satins are laid
down when I’m between my wife’s legs. In public however, we will let everyone continue to call
her a cow and put on plays where I take her maidenhead before we’re wed.”

A shadow passed over Tywin’s face as he hummed in distaste. “That was… regrettable.”

“Regrettable!? My wife was insulted repeatedly by that miserable shit. I didn’t kill him, but I wish
I had.”

Tywin snarled at Jaime and took a menacing step forward. “That is exactly the kind of thing that
you won’t say during the trial! You threatened the king twice in public that I’m aware of. You have
made this challenging enough for me as it is.”

Jaime snorted and looked out the small window in the cell. “Well… might have been three times. I
lost track to be honest.”

The returning look from Tywin was enough to melt the iron throne itself. “Do not disappointment
again. I will deal with Cersei and the details of the trial. You just work on that heir. The staff
should have you moved form here on the morrow.”

Without another word, Tywin turned on heel and left the room. Jaime flopped down onto the bed
and stared at the ceiling. Thoughts of Brienne pushed away the darkness as he smiled to himself.
Brienne loves me. Nothing else matters. Only us.
 A Plan for the Valonqar
Chapter Summary

Cersei plots as Jaime sits in the cell.

Cersei stood before Tywin in his study and narrowed her eyes in anger. To Tywin’s right stood
Genna, who Cersei hated almost as much as Tyrion. Is Jaime among that list now?

“I will call whatever witnesses I like! He murdered my son. Our king. The entirety of court was
there.” Cersei felt her body shake with rage as the words poured from her mouth.

Tywin straightened to full height and gritted his teeth. “I will not see this family tear each other
apart. Jaime is Lord of the Rock and Warden of the West. He and Brienne will ensure our house’s
future and support Tommen’s crown. You will not destroy this family over petty squabbles and
thirst for blind revenge. You know as well as I, that Jaime did not poison Joffrey.”

In her heart, Cersei knew the words of Jaime’s innocence in the crime to ring true, but she cared
little for truth. She wanted revenge and to ensure the prophecy received in childhood did not come
to pass.

Growing up, Cersei always believed Tyrion to be the valonqar from the prophecy of the woods’
witch. It never would have crossed her mind that her golden twin, her other half, would be the
younger brother the woman spoke of.

To add insult to injury, Jaime had chosen that beast over her. How can he sully himself with that
great cow when he had me? The most beautiful woman in all of Westeros. What a great jape.

Cersei tilted her chin and looked to Tywin defiantly. “I will call my witnesses as I see fit. I suggest
you worry about finding your own in defense of your preferred child.” Cersei’s tone dripped with
disdain. Tywin made it no secret from the time she was a child that Jaime was his only concern.
She lacked a cock and Tyrion lacked physical perfection.

Without awaiting her father’s response, Cersei turned on heel and stormed out of the room. Her
mind was already focused on the task at hand. Her plan already laid out.

Moving towards the yards, Cersei spotted her intended target in the distance. A smile spread across
her face as she moved swiftly towards the massive man before her. Cersei watched as Ser Gregor
landed blow after blow to his sparring partner before gutting the man. Wide eyes from awaiting
sparring partners exposed their fear of the man.

“Ser Gregor. If I may, a word.” Cersei’s honeyed tone floated to the Mountain’s ears. With a grunt
of irritation at his killing spree being interrupted, Cersei directed the man towards a side wall away
from prying ears.

“I’m certain you’ve heard of yesterday’s events.”

The Mountain took a long sip of water before nodding. “Aye. What of it?”

A small smile tugged at Cersei’s lips before she turned continued. “My brother is to stand trial and
it is my intent to force a trial by combat. His stupid cow of a wife will not doubt push to be his
champion since he is useless with his one hand. I want you to be the crown’s champion.”

Ser Gregor snorted and shook his head. “You think I’m so dumb to ensure the death of Lord
Tywin’s heir? He’ll have my head on a spike as soon as I gut the bitch.”

Cersei held her smile and spoke in hushed tones. “When you’re my consort, that will matter little.
It is you who will be in control.”

The Mountain’s eyes narrowed at her. “What are you on about?”

“I know you’ve long resented playing the role of my father’s dog. He may be Hand, but I am queen
regent. Tommen is but a child; barely off the wet nurse’s teat. I will hold the power until Tommen
comes of age. Any threat to you is a threat against me. We will deal with it accordingly.”

The implication was there and understanding shone in Ser Gregor’s eyes. They would kill Tywin
after Jaime was disposed of. Ser Gregor would be able to claim more power and freedom to
implement his preferred form of justice across the kingdoms.

Of course, Cersei hardly planned to follow through on her promise, but she needed the Mountain to
trust her words and believe her level of authority true. Tywin holds the power with Joffrey’s death,
but Ser Gregor is too stupid to understand the political power schema.

Cersei planned to save her hand for the second phase of her plan. With Jaime and his cow dealt
with, Cersei would need to secure the throne for herself. That would mean a temporary truce with
Stannis.

Words had reached King’s Landing of Stannis’ survival of the Blackwater. The man would stop at
nothing to gain what he believed his and Cersei would take advantage of that. She would make a
deal with Stannis.

Cersei would encourage Stannis to ‘deal with’ his wife and take her hand instead. Tywin would of
course allow this as he would think the matter over claim settled and the Stormlands brought to
heel.

Once wed, Cersei would promise to declare Tommen illegitimate, thus giving power to Stannis.
When he thought himself safe in their marriage, she would deal with him as she had Robert. Death.
Cersei would then be rightful queen of the Seven Kingdoms with no one to stand in her way.

As she assessed Ser Gregor’s facial features for response, Cersei smiled inwardly at the nod of
approval he gave. “See it done then and I’ll champion the crown.”

With a returning smile, Cersei left the yard and moved to track down her next target. The person
who would deliver the testimony pushing Jaime over the edge and forcing him to demand a Trial
by Combat. Loras Tyrell.

If there was one thing that Cersei observed of her twin, it was his inability to keep his mouth shut
where it concerned Brienne. He could sit there and take every insult or false accusation about
himself, but the moment Brienne was mentioned or put in harm’s way, he would make a mistake.

Fool. Weak of heart and mind.

When eventually Cersei found her betrothed, she saw the distaste cloud his face when their eyes
met.
Don’t flatter yourself Loras. You are hardly alone in the sentiment.

Approaching the Knight of Flowers, Cersei’s eyes flitted to those around them. She moved close
and spoke in a hushed tone. “Walk with me. I have something that you’ll be most interested in.”

With a degree of reluctance on Loras’ part, Cersei eventually pulled him away from his small
group of knights from the Reach. They walked along the garden path until Cersei saw only her ears
roaming the gardens. Her hand was still wedged into the crook of his arm as she surveyed the area
once more. Keeping her voice low, she spoke without meeting Loras’ eyes.

“I have a way that you can get your revenge against the cow. We both know what she did to your…
Renly.” Glancing sideways, Cersei saw Loras stiffen at the mention of his dead lover. The knight
did not move to speak, so Cersei continued.

“You will testify at Jaime’s trial and speak to what Brienne did to Renly. This will establish her as
someone more than capable of committing or assisting in such a crime against a king. My father of
course will accuse you of speaking to information irrelevant to the case, but you will say that this
information is the very reason why Jaime wed her. You will say that Jaime only married Brienne
knowing her past experience dealing with ‘kings’ in need of putting down. That when she handed
him the cup from under the table, she placed the poison then. You will say that you saw this from
your vantage point.”

Loras scoffed. “Why would I risk my head by lying in court? It is your brother’s trial. Not
Brienne’s.”

The question was exactly what Cersei anticipated and hoped for. “Because my brother fancies
himself in love with the cow. He will be incensed at the accusation and jump to her rescue by
demanding a Trial by Combat. We both know he can no longer fight, so who do you suppose will
fight for him?”

A knowing smile spread across Loras’ face as he turned to Cersei. “Very well. When is the trial?”

“Two days from now. If anyone asks, you and I spoke of a way to avoid our own betrothal and not
this. Rest assured, my father will not force our match when he loses his preferred child. He’ll need
to marry me off to someone in the West who can help him keep the kingdom at heel. The West
would never accept Tyrion, so it will fall to me.”

Nodding in understanding, Loras stopped walking and placed a formal kiss to her knuckles. “My
lady. It was a pleasure chatting with you.”

Cersei made her way back through the keep and towards her room. She ran through the list of
witnesses that she would call. Ronnet Connington of course would make a fine witness. He could
testify to Jaime’s temper. There were ample witnesses for Jaime’s three public threats against
Joffrey. Cersei would call herself as well. She would spin the tale of Jaime’s obsession with her
and anger when Cersei refused his sinful desires.

I’ll say he turned to the cow out of desperation and to seek revenge against my rejections in the
form of my son’s death. Yet another stab at the cow in the process.

Cersei rounded the last corridor near her room. Moving inside and as expected, her handmaidens
were there awaiting her instruction. She sent them all off in different directions, save the
handmaiden she had assigned to watch over Brienne’s movements.

Now alone with the handmaiden, Cersei poured herself some wine and turned to the woman.
“What news do you have for me?”

“The cow visited your brother in the cells your grace. I was able to convince the guards to share
what information they could on the visit. It seems they fucked again.”

Cersei felt bile rise in her throat. The thought of her twin, her lover, her other half, fucking that
beast sent her into a rage. Throwing her wine cup across the room, Cersei screamed as her body
shook with rage. Stroking her chin in contemplation as she paced wildly, Cersei moved towards the
woman.

“I want you to go into the city and procure moon tea. Prepare it for the cow and leave it in her
room tonight.” With a dismissive wave, the handmaiden set off on her mission leaving Cersei to
stew on the matter.

Unbidden, the words of the woods’ witch came back to her. “Queen you shall be... until there
comes another, younger and more beautiful, to cast you down and take all that you hold dear…
And when your tears have drowned you, the valonqar shall wrap his hands about your pale white
throat and choke the life from you.”

Cersei’s lips curled into a vicious snarl at the thought. Piss on your prophecy. I’ll see the cow dead
and my brother killed before he can dare think to set his hand near my neck again.
 Shut Your Mouth
Chapter Summary

The day of Jaime's trial arrives

The day of Jaime’s trial arrived, and he woke up to Brienne sleeping soundly in his arms. True to
his word, two days prior Tywin had Jaime moved from the moldy, dark cell into a small, well-
guarded room within the guest wing of the Keep.

Tywin had raged last night, bursting into Jaime’s room with Brienne and Genna at his back. He
instructed the attendants to bring a small amount of Brienne’s belongings into the room, indicating
that she was to stay that night and the day of the trial.

Jaime had listened with barely suppressed rage as Tywin explained that his informant in the city
observed Cersei’s handmaiden purchase moon tea and scurry back to the Keep. Cersei of course
denied any involvement in the matter, but the handmaiden admitted to brewing the tea and leaving
it in Brienne’s room.

The idea that anything had been given to Brienne without her knowledge set Jaime off. While they
had not yet discussed children together nor how to prevent a pregnancy should Brienne prefer to
wait, Jaime was incensed that the control had been stripped from her.

“Brienne will stay in here with you until this trial is over with. Then I want you both out of the city
and headed to the Rock immediately. I’ll deal with your sister.”

When Tywin left, Genna expressed her worry that Cersei was up to far more than serving an
unknowing Brienne moon tea. All food and drink brought to them would be prepared and provided
only by Genna’s staff that had arrived with her.

When eventually Genna left the room, Brienne stood stupefied in the corner. “I didn’t know. I
drank the tea.”

Jaime pulled her into a firm hug and felt his rage simmer as his thoughts went only to Brienne.
“I’m sorry that you’re stuck dealing with my cunt of a sister. Are you alright?”

Brienne shrugged and met his eyes with confusion still writ across her face. “Honestly, I had not
even thought about such things. We only… well it was just the two times. I didn’t think on it
much.”

With a heavy sigh, Jaime pulled Brienne down onto the bed beside him. “Do you want children?”

Again, Brienne shrugged. “I never thought much on it. I didn’t think it was a choice I would ever
have. I always liked babes, but… I had hoped to find Arya first and get the girls to safety.”

Jaime nodded in understanding. “We will. We’ll fulfill our oath.” Before meeting Brienne, Jaime
had not given much thought to having children he could call his own. He had always accepted his
role as little more than seed for Cersei’s womb, knowing he would watch from afar as another man
claimed his babes.
Since acknowledging his feelings for Brienne, the thought of having babes of his own began to
occupy his thoughts. When Jaime saw Brienne holding Margot near a week earlier, something
buried deep within emerged. A longing that he would someday see Brienne hold their babe in her
arms.

Now as he appraised Brienne’s sleeping on the morning of his trial, Jaime felt a mix of emotions
wash over him. He felt anxious for what was to come. Cersei would have some scheme in place to
ensure his demise. He felt despair that he may never get to build a family with Brienne. He felt
anger that he was even in this situation.

Jaime pulled Brienne closer and kissed her awake. He wanted to spend every moment he could
with her until the guards came and chained his wrists. As Brienne muttered into wakefulness and
her eyes fluttered open, Jaime moved over her; pushing apart her legs.

“Wench. Wake up.” Jaime tugged at her smallclothes and pushed them down along with his own.
He held himself at her entrance until he could tell she was fully awake and willing. Pushing into
her, they both let out a contended sigh before he slowly began rocking away any vestiges of sleep.

Jaime tried to commit everything to memory. Her thick lips. Her wonderfully pale and freckled
skin. Her scars from the bear. Her surprisingly soft, blonde locks. Her lean body and long legs. Her
eyes. The eyes most of all. Deep and blue and emotive.

The slow pace prolonged their coupling just as Jaime hoped it would. When Brienne peaked, he
moved into a more frantic rhythm. His breathing shallowed as he dragged his lips along her jaw
towards her ear. Lifting her left leg higher over his hip, Jaime buried himself as deep as he could. A
guttural moan pushing past his lips as he spilled deep in her.

Falling on top of her and burying his face into her neck, his voice was muffled and raw. “Good
morning.”

Brienne chuckled and ran a hand through his hair. “Good morning.”

They laid like that for some time as their heartrates returned to normal and their breathing steadied.
Jaime trailed kisses along the scars on her collarbone and hummed contentedly as he went. “I don’t
want to leave this shit room. Lets just stay here.”

Brienne sighed and turned her head to meet his eyes. “I believe that your father would be the only
one willing to hold a trial while we’re in this state.”

Jaime snorted and ran his hand up her side towards her breast, enjoying as she jolted when he
reached her nipple. Before he could tease her further, a loud knock came out the door.

Seven hells.

Tywin’s voice seeped through the gaps between the door and its frame. “Jaime. I’m coming in.”

“Fucking hells, father. Just wait a moment.”

Well at least he’s knocking now.

Reaching down, Jaime pulled up Brienne’s smallclothes and gave her his tunic that had been
discarded carelessly on the floor. He pulled up his own smallclothes and grabbed his breeches. As
Tywin entered the room, Jaime pulled up the covers to protect Brienne’s modesty. He sat beside
her on the bed as Tywin moved across the room and helped himself to a chair.
“I’m meeting with the other jurors shortly. I’ve selected Mace Tyrell and Oberyn Martell. Mace is
an idiot and will do as I say. Oberyn is impartial, but seems to hate Cersei just as much, if not more
than me. Seeing her upset by you going free is likely enough to ensure he judges in favor of your
innocence.”

Jaime rolled his eyes and looked to Brienne who was doing everything should could to avert her
eyes from Tywin. Her discomfort at Tywin’s presence so soon after their coupling was evident, and
Jaime tried to see his father removed from the room as quickly as possible.

“Great, well I don’t suppose there is much for me to do then. I’ll see you at the trial.”

Tywin narrowed his eyes at Jaime and sucked in a deep breath. “Remember, no matter what
nonsense your sister tries to pull, you are to sit there quietly. I will not have your emotional
volatility ruin this. Swallow your pride at whatever words she speaks or has the witnesses speak.
Do I make myself clear?”

Why must he always speak time like I’m the greatest dolt he has ever known. Jaime spoke
sarcastically in reply as he held Tywin’s stare. “Sorry, wait… to be clear, when you say, ‘sit there
quietly’, do you mean don’t use words and can I at least groan in protest? How about a
longsuffering sigh?”

Tywin stood from his chair and pointed a finger at Jaime. “Keep your mouth shut and let me
handle the rest. As for you, Brienne.” Tywin’s eyes darted to Brienne and narrowed in warning.

“You are to stay here. I can’t have you in there eliciting unnecessary reactions from Jaime. He isn’t
clear of mind when you’re around.”

Jaime felt his temper flare and he stood from the bed, glaring at his father. “Do not blame her for
any of this. She can go where she pleases.”

Tywin approached, gazing down at Jaime in anger. “She stays here.” Without another word, Tywin
stormed out of the room. Jaime’s frustration mounted and he could do little more than kick the
chair that his father had been sitting in.

Brienne swung her legs over the edge of the bed as Jaime sat down beside her. Her long, lean legs
brushed against his as she patiently waited for his breathing to steady. Always so fucking patient,
wench.

Looking to her, Jaime felt his anger dissipate. He couldn’t spend the remainder of his time in a rage
with her beside him. They got dressed for the day before Jaime pulled her back into the bed to lay
together. Just being around her had a calming effect.

My father doesn’t understand. I need her there or I might murder someone. Probably Cersei.

When the guards finally came for him, Jaime couldn’t take his eyes off Brienne. They shackled his
wrists and yanked him to the door, but she was all he could see. Her worried eyes and knitted
brows. “I love you.” It was all his brain could think to say as they shoved him forward and
slammed the door between them.

The walk to the throne room seemed longer than usual. No matter how much Tywin insisted this
would be over and done with, Jaime knew better than that. He knew Cersei and what she was
capable of.

Moving into the throne room, Jaime’s eyes scanned the crowd gathered on each side. To his right,
Genna, his cousins, Tyrion, and Sansa sat in silent support as he was pushed towards the stand.
Another fifty or so people lined the sides of the hall.

He could feel their distaste for him pouring out. Kingslayer. Oathbreaker. Man without honor. I’m
certain they would side with Cersei could their voices be heard.

Looking to the throne, Tommen sat solemnly and watched Jaime approach. Tywin stood at his side
and offered a warning glare. When Jaime was positioned in the accused’s stand, Tommen stood,
and the amassed crowd followed his lead.

Tommen gave his little speech and recused himself as Jaime glanced to Cersei in disgust. How
could I have ever though myself in love with such a hateful woman?

Tywin, Oberyn, and Mace took their seats as Tommen exited. Jaime could feel Cersei’s eyes on
him, but he would not afford her the satisfaction of a returned glance.

To open the trial, Tywin asked Jaime if he killed King Joffrey. No, but I wish I had. “I did not.”

“How would you say he died then?” Tywin’s tone betrayed his frustration at needing to lead this
farce of a trial.

“I believe he complained of his pigeon pie being a bit dry. Mayhap you should ask the kitchen
staff.”

If his father’s tone was any indication, that was not the answer he wanted to hear. “So you would
blame the bakers?”

“Or the pigeons. Either way, leave me out of it.”

Tywin glanced sideways at Cersei before continuing. The crown called its first witness.
Grandmaester Pycelle. The dolt recounted Jaime’s threat to Joffrey in the throne room when he
was dismissed from the Kingsguard. Jaime rolled his eyes but bit his tongue.

When Pycelle spoke of Joffrey’s comment to Lady Brienne which had incited Jaime’s threat, the
crowd chuckled at the words. Jaime could no longer contain himself once he heard the laughter
and whispers at Brienne’s expense. “So it’s a crime to tell one’s dolt nephew not to insult his future
goodaunt?”

“Silence! You will not speak unless spoken to.” Tywin’s tone and facial expression were more than
a warning. If he had a means to knock Jaime unconscious then and there, Jaime knew that Tywin
would. Jaime slouched back into his seat and looked to the ceiling.

The next witness was Ronnet and it took every ounce of restraint for Jaime to not leap over the
railings and strange the man with his chains. Glancing to Tywin, the warning look was enough to
keep those fantasies to his mind alone.

Then Cersei herself took the witness stand. She started by recounting Jaime’s threat against Joffrey
at his wedding to Brienne. Jaime chuckled in amusement at her fake tears but still, he said nothing.
Then Cersei launched into a fabricated encounter wherein Jaime supposedly tried to force himself
on her and begged for her to flee Essos with him upon Robert’s death. She said that he was madly
in love with her, but she was repulsed by his desires and rejected him flatly.

Jaime interrupted her tale with a loud guffaw which earned him yet another glare from Tywin.
With a snarl at her lips, Cersei turned back to the jurors. “He sought out the cow only to try and
seek revenge at my rejection of him. She has been accused of kingslaying before and he thought
that if he could get her to fall in love with him, he could use her love to assist him in killing my
son.”

At the telling of her tale, Jaime threw up his chained hands in exasperation. Tywin glared at her
from the throne. “It is a crime to lie as a witness. I could have your head for this. Do you
understand that?”

Cersei nodded in understanding but held to her claim. It was Oberyn who pressed the matter
further. “I’ve seen your brother with Lady Brienne. I’m sorry, but you can’t fake pining. He looks
at her and his heart is in his eyes. Any fool can see it.”

Jaime looked to his wretched twin and tilted his head. A snide smile pulled at his lips. “Mayhap
sister, within this fantasy you’ve described, you’ve confused me with cousin Lancel. I hear we
Lannisters look alike after all. He seems to have been spending quite a lot of time in your bed this
past year.”

A chorus of laughter and gasps echoed off the walls and vaulted ceiling. Cersei glared at him and
shook with rage. From the throne, Jaime saw Tywin lean forward in vexation. Catching Jaime’s
eye, he mouthed the words. “Shut Up.”

With a smug smile, Jamie slouched back into his seat. The crown called its next witness. Loras
Tyrell. Jaime noted the surprise on Margaery’s and Olenna’s faces as Loras took the witness stand.
Loras? What the actual fuck is this shit?

Clearing his throat, Loras began his testimony. “When I was in service to the false king, Renly
Baratheon, I met Lady Brienne. A pathetic spectacle really, she insisted on serving in his Rainbow
Guard and entered the Melee at Bitterbridge to earn her spot. She was hopelessly in love with
Renly. An unrequited love, but an obsession that became a jape among the men. Hideous as she is,
Renly hardly noticed her, but he did grant her a spot on his guard. That is how she got close enough
to kill him.”

Before Jaime could move to speak, Tywin beat him to it. “Lady Brienne Lannister is not on trial
here. Ser Jaime Lannister is. Have you confused them? We don’t need to hear these false accounts
of her time in the Stormlands forces.”

“With all due respect Lord Hand, it is this very incident that caused Ser Jaime to seek her out. As
Queen Regent Cersei stated, he was blinded by jealousy and used Brienne to carry out his plan. He
knew of her experience for ridding Westeros of kings, whether self-proclaimed or true. During the
feast when King Joffrey kicked the wine cup under the table, I saw Lady Brienne take the cup and
deposit the poison before handing it to Ser Jaime with a nod.”

Jaime felt his heart quicken at the words. Brienne. They’re trying to set her up. Cersei means to
come for us both.

Standing from his seat within the accused’s stand, Jaime screamed at Loras. “Liar! You and my
cunt of a sister stand before Gods and men speaking falsely! Brienne has nothing to do with this
trial nor does she have anything to do with Joffrey’s death. It is my trial and mine alone!”

“Jaime…” Tywin cast a warning look, but Jaime could hardly hear the plea in his father’s voice.

“I will not see you drag Brienne into this! I demand a Trial by Combat!” Jaime’s chest heaved with
rage as a victorious smile settled over Cersei’s face. A collective gasp from Jaime’s kin seated to
his right reached his ears, but Jaime cared little.

His mind was consumed by a desperate need to see Brienne left out of Cersei’s schemes. He was
not his sister. He did not use words to fight, but rather a sword. He would not leave his fate to her
schemes nor would he allow them to implicate Brienne. Looking to his father, Jaime saw Tywin
pale.

I will kill whoever they throw at me. Then I will kill Cersei.

The guards moved to his sides and dragged him out of the throne room. Passing by his family,
Jaime saw the panic on their faces. The reality of the situation began to hit him. Seven hells. I did
exactly what Cersei wanted. I don’t have my sword hand any longer.

As they reached his room and he was ushered inside, Brienne stood quickly from the bed where
she had been sitting. She looked at him questioningly as the guards removed the shackles from
Jaime’s wrists. The door closed leaving Jaime and Brienne to themselves.

“Well… is it over?” Brienne’s eyes were more of a plea than a question.

Jaime grimaced and looked to the floor. “Remember when you dragged me about the Riverlands
and kept yelling at me to shut my mouth?”

Brienne’s eyes widened in worry. “Gods. What did you do?”

With a nervous laugh, Jaime rubbed at his neck. “I could have used with the reminder.”
 Who Wants to Die Defending A Lannister?
Chapter Summary

Tywin confronts Jaime after the trial. They decided on how to approach the Trial by
Combat.

Tywin slammed open the door to Jaime’s room with Genna at his side. “What did I say!? You
were given clear instructions and still, you did not comply. Do you have any idea what you’ve
done!?”

Jaime raised a brow in mock consideration. “I do believe I’ve demanded a Trial by Combat. It is
my right to request…”

Tywin interrupted Jaime before he could finish. “It is not your right! You are my son and you will
do as I say! How do you plan to fight with one hand?” Standing chest to chest with his insolent son,
Tywin looked down his nose at Jaime with narrowed eyes.

Jaime winced slightly and looked to the side. “Admittedly, I had not considered that when I made
the decision.”

“What had you considered!?”

With a shrug of indifference, Jaime met his eyes. “That I wanted to punch Cersei in the face. You
should at least be grateful that I didn’t do that.”

Genna moved to push them apart as they stood glaring at one another. “This isn’t helping! Both of
you, stop this nonsense. Apparently, Cersei had anticipated this outcome. Ty, tell him who she has
named as champion.”

Tywin felt panic course through his body for the third time since Jaime made his foolish decision.
Closing his eyes and taking a steadying breath, Tywin pinched the bridge of his nose. “Ser Gregor.
It seems she has some kind of deal with the animal. I stripped him of his holdings, but he cares
not.”

Opening his eyes, Tywin watched as Jaime paled and nodded numbly. His voice was but a whisper
when he finally spoke. “Well then… I suppose I should train my left hand.”

“I’ll be Jaime’s champion.” All eyes turned to Brienne who stood resolutely behind Jaime. Tywin
stared at her as though she proclaimed herself queen.

I need my son alive. I need him to carry on the Lannister name. I need him to become the man that
he was meant to be. I can’t do that if he is dead and surely, this woman being his champion will
only end in both of their deaths.

Tywin and Jaime spoke at the same time. “No!”

Finally. My idiot son and I agree on something. Jaime held her gaze. “You will not risk your life
for me.”
Brienne snorted and muttered something to Jaime that Tywin hardly understood the context
behind. "Who wants to die defending a Lannister?" Jaime guffawed and the pair chuckled to
themselves; seemingly forgetting that Tywin and Genna were there.

Tywin huffed in irritation. “I'm glad you both find this so amusing! Jaime needs a proper
champion. Someone who stands a chance. I’ll be bringing in some of our best from the West to
select a champion. I’ll delay the trial until then.”

Both Brienne and Jaime looked to him in shock and rage, but it was Jaime who spoke. “Don’t
speak of her that way! She is a proper champion! She could beat any miserable shit you try to bring
in, but I won’t risk her. I’ll fight the Mountain myself.”

Ignoring Jaime’s words, Brienne stepped forward and kept her eyes on Tywin. “If you want your
son to live, you’ll name me his champion.”

This woman is out of her fucking mind.

“I said, no. I don’t much care for who you think you can defeat where it concerns my son.”

“I don’t much care for what you prefer where it concerns my husband.”

Tywin reared back at her words. Did she just tell me off?

All three began shouting at one another, but Genna yelled over them. “Enough! All of you. This
won’t solve anything. Brienne, do you truly think you can beat anyone my brother brings in?”

“I know that I can. Ask Jaime for his opinion on the matter if you doubt me.”

Jaime again moved to argue against Brienne playing the role of champion, but Genna cut him off.
“Jaime! Put aside your worry for Brienne for a moment and answer the question. Can she beat our
best?”

With a resigned sigh, Jaime lowered his eyes before looking to Brienne. “Yes, she can.”

Tywin watched as a silent conversation passed between his son and gooddaughter.

“I will not see you make exaggerated appraisal of her skill based on your maiming. If you had two
hands, you would not feel as strongly of her competency with a sword.” Tywin’s tone was snide as
he looked to Jaime.

Jaime turned his eyes back to his father. Straightening to full height, he spoke with warning in his
tone. “Do not underestimate my wife. I tried to kill her in the Riverlands, and she bested me. I had
two hands then.”

Tywin’s eyes darted to Brienne who stood smugly behind his son. He felt his jaw go slightly slack
as he appraised Brienne. Who the hells did I marry my son off to?

“You mean to tell me that this woman could beat our best military commanders? Any of the West’s
knights?” Tywin’s tone was incredulous. He assessed Brienne who tilted her chin up defiantly.

Jaime’s confident posture mirrored Brienne as he answered. “Yes, she can. She killed three Stark
soldiers in a heartbeat. She beat me when I had two hands. She beat Loras in a melee to join
Renly’s Rainbow Guard. She fought a fucking bear! I’m confident that I’ve assessed her skill
objectively, but it matters not. I am not accepting any champion. I will fight…”
Tywin ignored the rest of Jaime’s words as he considered the woman before him. She certainly
carried herself as someone who could hold her own in the training yard. It was impossible to ignore
her physical prowess as her height nearly matched his own. She was lean and appeared strong.
Meek in matters of court, but bold in matters of war. She did after all escort my son home in almost
one piece with enemies all around them.

Interrupting Jaime’s rant, Tywin looked to Brienne commandingly. “Very well. Lady Brienne will
be your champion. I’ll match her with the best we have in the city to train. I want to see this for
myself. If at any point I have doubts, we will bring in a new champion.”

“No, she will not! I will not have her risk her life…”

“Oh, do shut up!” Brienne’s outburst captured everyone’s attention. “You’ve said quite enough
today. Even if we call the match in the Riverlands a draw given circumstances, you can’t fight at
that level currently. You will someday, but not now. If you try to protest this, I will knock you
unconscious myself and see you revived when the Mountain is dead.”

Hmm. I think I like my Goddaughter.

Jaime stood slack jawed looking at her. Another wordless conversation passed between them, and
Jaime’s jaw snapped shut. An irritated look crossed his face as he muttered to himself.

“So that’s what it takes to shut you up? Your wife reprimanding you? Mayhap I should have let her
in attend the trial after all.”

Ignoring the sarcastic reply threatening to push past Jaime’s lips, Tywin looked to Brienne. “What
do you need to train?”

Narrowing her eyes at Tywin, Brienne spoke in a tone that brokered no argument. “Breeches. No
more dresses. When I beat the Mountain, I’ll hear no more of what I choose to wear.”

Tywin snorted at the request. “You are to be the Lady of the Rock and the Lady of the Rock must
wear…”

“Whatever makes her most comfortable.” Jaime interrupted Tywin and smirked. “Is the cut of my
wife’s attire more important to you than you precious legacy?”

“He agrees. Anything else, child?” At Genna’s promise, Tywin gawked at her. What is wrong with
these people?

With a deep sigh and hesitant look on her face, Brienne spoke quietly. “I’ll need to get a missive to
my father. I need him here to train with.”

Tywin’s brows furrowed as he looked to Jaime and Genna who looked equally perplexed. “Why do
you need your father to train? I imagine he’s close to my age and nowhere near the physical
conditioning of the Mountain.”

Brienne huffed a laugh but provided little context. “You’ll understand when you see him.”

With a final look back at his son, Tywin stormed out of the room. From his back, Genna’s voice
berated Tywin as they walked hurriedly through the halls. Gods, here we go.

Walking towards his study, Tywin guided Genna inside by the elbow. She began yelling at him the
moment the door was closed.
”Are you satisfied Ty!? You think you’re so smart. One step ahead of everyone else and immune to
the plotting and will of others. You don’t even know your own children! You don’t even see what
is right before your face!”

“See what? That my children disappoint me at every turn? That they undermine my authority with
their childish outbursts!?”

“Gods, Ty. Can you truly be so willfully ignorant?”

Tywin’s brows knitted in confusion at his sister’s accusations. “What are you on about Genna?”

Genna scoffed and paced the room, rubbing her forehead as she spoke. “The war for the crown was
not built on a lie. All the children are Jaime’s. Don’t you see what is going on here? He finally did
it! He finally broke free from Cersei’s hold and she is lashing out! She is going to see him killed for
daring to love someone more than her.”

Tywin recoiled at the words and barked at her. “You will not speak such filth nor spread false
claims! I could have you thrown in the cells for such a threat!”

“The claims are as false as accusations that Tyrion is a dwarf. You choose not to see the truth.
Even Joanna saw it! Why do you suppose she had them separated at the Rock? Do you know what
nonsense your daughter has been feeding your son all these years? Do you know why he has
neglected to take on his duties as your heir?”

What is she saying? This can’t be true! I won’t accept this!

“Sit down, Ty. You look as though you might pop a blood vessel.” Genna shoved him into a seat at
the table in the corner of his study. She took a seat beside him and grabbed his forearm.

“Jaime followed Cersei into this world. He has followed her in every way since that day. Since
they were old enough to walk, Jaime followed her. Since they were old enough to talk, Cersei
spoke and he listened. Since they were old enough to think independently, Cersei thought for both
of them.”

Tywin listened as Genna sighed and looked out the window of the study. Her face contorted into a
grimace. “I tried to stop it just as Joanna did, but I couldn’t. Gods, I tried. He was a little boy who
missed his mother. A little boy who needed love from his father; a man who could not spare it.
Your heart died with Joanna. All Jaime has ever wanted and longed for in this life is love. All
Tyrion has ever wanted is acceptance. Your daughter on the other hand…”

Genna’s face turned into a scowl as she spoke of Cersei. “Cersei never needed acceptance nor love.
She craved power. She craved the crown. She convinced herself that she would marry the prince
and become queen. Everything she did in life was to achieve that goal. She thrives on power in all
forms; particularly over Jaime. She used his love to get what she wanted. She always has. Cersei is
the reason he joined the Kingsguard, you know. He would not have pursued it otherwise.”

Tywin’s brows rose in shock. “What!?”

With a mocking laugh, Genna nodded emphatically. “Oh yes, your son. Your boy. He only wanted
to be a knight and fight for a worthy cause. Cersei warped him though. His entire life, she has told
him that they are two halves of a whole. That they will die together because he can’t live in world
where she does not draw breath. She told him that he was to join the Kingsguard, as it was the only
way they could remain close. She used his love to control him. Now, she has lost him. You don’t
know what this means for him to finally see her for what she is.”
This can’t be true. I cannot accept this. Tywin poured through everything he knew of his twins. Of
course, they are close. They are twins. The maester said it is not an uncommon occurrence for
twins to form a close bond. A reliance of sorts. Surely, they haven’t bonded to such an extent.

The more Genna forced his hand to consider it, the more Tywin begrudgingly recognized the signs
in fleeting memories. As more memories piled up and confirmed her words, the strange
conversation with Joanna came back to him. His wife would not tell him explicitly why they twins
had to be separated and watched closely by staff, but there was something in her tone. Something
he cared little to think on nor see at the time.

Gods. How did I miss this? How did I not see it?

Mulling everything over, Tywin considered the twins. Cersei is going to destroy my family. My
line. My son. I have to save him. Not just from this trial, but from Cersei. She is the evil dragging
this family straight into the Seven Hells.

“What do I do?”

Genna exhaled audibly and crossed her arms. “I think Lady Brienne has done what was needed the
most. She broke Cersei’s hold over Jaime. There is something about them together. A fate of sorts.
Pushed together by the Gods. Individually they are physically imposing. If Brienne is as good as
Jaime says she is, no one could defeat our House in battle with them at the front lines.”

Stroking her chin in contemplation, Genna sighed. “They wear an armor both seen and unseen to
play the roles Westeros has cast them in, but beneath it, they are broken. They are both insecure
and their self-loathing can be worrisome. Together though… together there is a strength in them
that could be something most powerful. They fill in each other’s emotional cracks. They make
each other strong.”

Tywin took in Genna’s words and hope sparked. We can rebuild this House on them.

Genna snorted and nodded her head at Tywin. “You know… he lost that hand protecting her.”

For the second time, Tywin felt his brows shoot up to his hairline. Genna chuckled at his reaction
and continued on.

“He saved her from rape at the hands of Locke’s men. He saved her from death when they threw
her into a bear pit with nothing but a fucking wooden sword to defend herself. If you ask him of it
though, she saved him just as much along the way. Kept him alive and protected him from Locke’s
men. Made him realize how far from love his sister’s affections were. In that sense, I do believe
Brienne saved Jaime in ways that can never be repaid. She saved his soul. She reminded him that
he is a good man. He isn’t hateful like Cersei.”

Tywin considered the words. Here I thought their marriage the product of an infatuation on
Jaime’s part. I did not think it love. Tywin had known love once, but it was when he lost that love
that he stopped believing in it. He stopped seeing it as a possibility for his children. Instead, he
thought them little more than pieces to maneuver in a game for power and security.

Genna again captured his attention. “They need us, Ty. They need us to keep them safe. We must
get them through this trial and get them to safety. So long as Cersei is alive, I fear they will never
be safe. Cersei never liked sharing. As we are seeing now, she will stop at nothing to see them both
killed.”

A protectiveness for someone other than his kin bubbled in Tywin’s chest at the thought of
Brienne. I do believe I may owe that girl a debt.
 The Island
Chapter Summary

Tywin surprises Brienne and Tarth arrives.

Brienne heard a knock at the door to her newly assigned room. While she enjoyed spending time in
Jaime’s makeshift cell, if for no other reason than it contained Jaime, Tywin thought it best that
she have a separate space to move between.

What this truly meant, was that Tywin wanted Brienne to focus on training rather than spending
the day with Jaime between her legs. Jaime had snorted at Tywin’s mindset on the matter. “Make
heirs. Don’t make heirs. This is all very confusing to my cock.”

Tywin was as displeased by the interrupted heir making process as he was Jaime’s nonchalant
attitude about the situation. “Brienne will train during the day and lay with you at night.”

“Can you define ‘lay’? You know how confused I get over what should be simple instruction.
Also, I would remind you that there is all manner of sword training. How is variety factored into
her training schedule?” Jaime’s tone dripped with derision and hardly won his father’s favor.

The room Brienne stood in now was slightly larger and right next to Jaime’s, albeit without guards
stationed outside. The instruction to the staff was clear. No one save Tywin, Genna, and Brienne
were to enter her room without prior consent. With guards stationed outside Jaime’s room, it would
be easy enough to accomplish as they could monitor Brienne’s room.

She had spent much of the morning in the yards training and had returned to her room for a bath.
The past two days had been disheartening as Tywin’s supposed ‘best in the city’ were a far cry
from the knight she was accustomed to challenging. Mayhap he has knights on the way?

Moving to the door of her private chambers, Brienne was surprised to be greeted by a small group
led Tywin pushing their way in. He began barking orders as a woman requested Brienne stand still
so that she could take measurements.

Brienne’s eyes flitted to Tywin in irritation. “We agreed on this. No more dresses.”

Tywin sat down in a chair at the far end of the room and helped himself to a cup of water. “I’m
well aware of what we discussed. Unlike your husband, I remember what is or is not agreed to.”

A man approached the woman taking measurements and began taking notes. From his chair,
Tywin barked at them. “The pauldron must fall higher than usual. She’ll need the mobility to
swing upwards. She may be tall, but she is not taller than Ser Gregor.”

Pauldron? Is Tywin Lannister having them fit me for armor?

“Yes, m’lord. I was thinking we could do the standard lion head at the chest instead of the
shoulder. It would add too much bulk and restrict her movement further.”

“Yes, yes. She’ll get a proper set after the fight. And extend that breastplate lower than usual! He’ll
attempt to land some blows to her gut to knock the wind from her.”
Tywin made some additional comments as the team worked around Brienne. They took
measurements and sketched a design as they went. When they were done, Tywin appraised the
drawing and pointed out several additions. “…Add the Tarth sigil here and here. She is a lion and
the future Evenstar.”

The team bowed before exiting and Brienne was left standing in shock with her goodfather before
her. “Alright now, don’t dawdle. Your father’s ships should be docking soon. We’ll greet them at
the there.”

“My father’s ship? I only sent him a missive two days ago.” Brienne’s brows knitted in confusion.
Even with the fastest raven from the rookery, it would take her father’s fastest ship at least two
days to get to King’s Landing.

“Well that’s nice of you. I sent a raven the day of that sham trial. My men spotted his ships nearing
and yes, I said ships. Not ship. I’m not entirely certain what your father is planning, but the point is
to have you kill the Mountain. Not his army.”

Brienne followed Tywin as he moved quickly to exit the castle. Stepping outside into the sun filled
courtyard, Brienne eyed an escort of Lannister soldiers holding two horses for them. Without
looking to her, Tywin spoke. “I assume you will ride instead of requiring one of those godsawful
carriages?”

“Yes, I much prefer that.”

Tywin smirked while continuing to walk forward. “Yes, I thought as much.”

The ride to the docks was fast on horseback. In the distance, Brienne could see the sails of two
Tarth ships. Her anxiety increased at the sight, knowing her father only had enough men to fill
three ships as it was. Gods. What is he doing?

Brienne felt her heart quicken as the ships began to dock. Tywin stood to her right with their
contingent of Lannister soldiers. She put up a hand to block the glare of the sun off the water and
looked for her father. There, standing tall at the bow of the deck was her Lord Tarth. Selwyn had
his hands clasped behind his back and his chest puffed out as he scanned the port.

His hair and well-trimmed beard were even blonder than Brienne’s tresses. His massive frame was
outlined by the sun’s rays and made him look godlike. Glancing from the corner of her eye,
Brienne saw Tywin’s eyes widen slightly at the sight.

Yes, I know. This is why I need him to train.

Her father was the only man who made the Mountain look unimpressive. Brienne knew from a
young age that his size was not common. He dwarfed the people of Tarth and Brienne’s septa
fretted she may match his size if she didn’t stop growing in her adolescence.

The well-disciplined soldiers of Tarth lead their Evenstar down the gangway, but Selwyn quickly
moved to the front of the lines. His eyes narrowed in on her before glancing to Tywin.

Looking past her father, Brienne gasped at the volume of Tarth soldiers pouring off the ship. Shit.
He’s ready for war.

“Lord Tywin.” Trepidation laced Brienne’s tone. “You’ll want to stand back.”

Tywin scoffed at her side. “Why would I do that?”

“Because my father might punch you.”

“What!?”

Brienne stepped forward and the Lannister soldiers took a defensive position before Tywin. Putting
up a warning hand, Brienne locked eyes with her father as he neared them. “Father, do not!”

“Brienne, get on the ships! We’re going home. Enough of this nonsense!” Selwyn’s face was
awash with fury as he looked to Tywin and the Lannister soldiers.

“Father!” Brienne took several more steps forward to put more distance between herself and the
Lannister soldiers. “I don’t know what you think is going on…”

Selwyn cut her off; his attention shifting back to Brienne as though she was half mad. “What I
think!? I get a missive that my daughter is married to the Kingslayer! That she is to fight the
fucking Mountain in a Trial by Combat on behalf of the Kingslayer! What do you think that I
think!?”

I suppose I did ask the he not be contacted. “I realize that I should have written sooner, but things
have been a bit complicated.”

“Complicated!? That is certainly an understatement, Brienne. Get on the ship, now!”

“No!” Brienne stood tall and her fists clenched at her side like a petulant child.

“No?” Selwyn’s brow raised and his eyes widened.

“I agreed to wed Ser Jaime. I offered to be his champion. No one forced any of this on me.”

“You did what!?” Selwyn took a step forward and grabbed her face in his hands. He began tilting
her head from side to side and appraising her frantically.

Trying to bat him away, Brienne huffed in irritation. “What are you doing!?

“I’m checking you for head injury! Hold still. You’re unwell.”

“I am quite well, thank you!” Brienne pulled her head back and narrowed her eyes.

With an exasperated sigh, Selwyn looked to his men who stood at the ready behind him. “Oh,
stand down boys! We won’t kill anyone… yet.”

Looking back to Brienne, Selwyn’s features softened slightly. “Daughter.”

“Father.”

Selwyn sighed and pulled her into a tight embrace. Memories of her childhood flooded back as she
was engulfed by her father. His large arms always felt as though they could shield her from
anything.

Stepping back from the embrace, Selwyn appraised her. “Gods help me. You take years off my
life, girl. Can I truly not kill anyone?”

With a huff of annoyance, Brienne sighed. “No.”

“Very well. Lets go speak to your goodfather, Lord Hand Tywin of House fucking Lannister.”
Brienne snorted at his words and took his offered arm. His voice mellowed as he began to walk
forward “It’s good to see you child. I worried after you.”

They made their way to Tywin who barked at his men to stand down. Pushing past them in
annoyance, Tywin tilted his chin up at Selwyn. “Lord Tarth. Welcome to King’s Landing.”

Brienne elbowed his side and spoke in hushed tones through gritted teeth. “Be nice.”

Selywn responded similarly. His jaw clenched and his words for her ears only. “I wish to punch
him.”

“Lord Hand.” Selwyn bowed cordially before raising himself back to full height.

Tywin held his usual unimpressed mask as he spoke to Selwyn, but Brienne had seen the cracks in
it when her father appeared on the boat and then approached. “Shall we head up to the Keep and
discuss matters?”

Selwyn glanced between Tywin and Brienne cautiously. “Yes. This is one tale that I am most
interested to hear.” Before moving forward, Selwyn looked back at his men. “Ser Endrew!”

The young Master-At-Arms strode quickly and confidently towards Selwyn. “Yes, my lord?”

“Tell the men they’ll take quarters on the ships tonight. I want them on curfew. They will treat the
capital as they treat Tarth.” Endrew bowed in acknowledgement, but before he could turn away,
Tywin spoke loudly.

“Your commanders are welcome to take quarters with you in the guest wing. We’ll have a carriage
bring up your things from the ships.” Tywin’s tone brokered no argument as he began giving
instructions to the attendants working the docks.

“Bring horses from the stables for Lord Tarth and his commanders.” Tywin glanced sideways at
Selwyn before continuing. “At least one destrier.” Brienne muffled the laugh threatening to push
past her lips at Tywin’s request for a large horse.

Some time later, they found themselves back at the keep. Selwyn and Tywin spoke in his study
while Brienne visited Jaime.

“So, your father is here… with his army…” Jaime nervously paced the small room and rubbed at
his brows.

“He might have overreacted a bit, but he’ll be alright.”

“I might need you to champion me from him.” Jaime tried to jape, but his voice betrayed his
anxiety.

Brienne sat on the edge of the bed, watching Jaime wear a hole in the floor with his repetitive
steps. Before she could get him to calm down, the door opened to reveal Tywin and her father.
Brienne stood quickly and watched as her father ducked slightly to enter the doorway; angling his
shoulders as he passed.

Glancing to Jaime, Brienne could see him pale. He muttered more to himself than anyone in
particular. “Seven hells. He ducked.”

Clearing her throat to break Jaime from his stupor, Brienne glared at him. “Jaime, this is my father.
Selwyn Tarth.”
“Big. He’s big. Shit… did I say that out loud?”

Selywn’s eyes narrowed as his eyes shifted between the pair. Glaring at his son, Tywin moved to
stand beside Lord Tarth. “Jaime! Present yourself properly to your goodfather.”

Shaking his head of the remnant shock, Jaime stepped forward and extended his left hand. “Lord
Tarth. It’s an honor to meet you.”

Brienne could tell by the set in her father’s features and his eyes that his returning smile was as
false as his reply. “Ser Jaime. An honor to meet you as well.” Looking to Brienne, Selwyn gave a
look that indicated they had much to discuss.

“I would like to speak with you about some things, but first I need some time with my daughter.”
Selwyn tilted his head to Brienne and raised a brow. Nodding in understanding, Brienne took a step
forward and glanced to Jaime. “I’ll come back later.”

Jaime’s smile always made her breathing falter and her heart skip a beat. His hand captured hers
and pulled it to his lips; placing a gentle kiss on her knuckles. “Yes, we wouldn’t want to alter the
training schedule.” As their fathers moved out from the room, Jaime winked at Brienne before
pulling her closer.

“Gods, wench. You should have warned me. Forget a mountain. Your father is the whole fucking
island. Can I call him that? The Island.” Brienne rolled her eyes at Jaime’s words, but he quickly
dropped any jest in his tone. “Listen to you father. If he doesn’t want you doing this, that makes
two of us.”

Brienne sighed and shook her head. “I’ll see you later.”

Exiting the room, Selwyn draped his massive arm around her shoulders and tugged her close at his
side. “Daughter, walk with me. I have so many questions and so little opportunity to strangle
people.”

They made their way outside and towards the gardens. Brienne waited for the onslaught of
questions and condemning remarks. What she instead received was a wary sigh.

“I have received two missives about you since you left home to serve in Renly’s war. The first was
from a group of men demanding ransom. The second was from Tywin Lannister that you were wed
to his son and play the same man’s champion against the Mountain.”

Selwyn turned to face her fully and appraised Brienne. Since she was a child, Brienne hated the
look. She felt powerless under his judgmental gaze. Brienne began to fidget as she struggled for
where to begin.

Mercifully, Selwyn guided her in that direction. “Lord Tywin has given me the gist of it. He gave
his son an ultimatum to leave the Kingsguard after returning without his sword hand. Jaime named
you, to which you agreed. After wedding each other, his nephew…” Selwyn cast a knowing gaze at
Brienne before continuing.

“…choked on his own pie. Shockingly, his sister now wants his head. And you… you went ahead
and volunteered to take his place in a Trial by Combat because you so enjoy self-sacrifice.”

Selwyn exhaled audibly and looked away. His face flushed red with irritation as his body tensed.
“Damnit girl! You never mind the thought of dying for others, but why not live for yourself!?”

“He’s my husband! How can I not fight for him?” Brienne was incredulous as she took on a more
defensive posturing.

Selwyn scoffed. “Isn’t Jaime Lannister supposed to be some great, mythical swordsman? Why the
hells can’t the boy fight for himself?”

“He has one hand!”

“Good, a challenge then! From what I hear, his arrogance could use such a thing.” Selwyn shook
his head in vexation as he leaned against the railing on the veranda.

“He lost that hand defending me from rape.” At Brienne’s words, Selwyn stood upright and took a
step back in horror.

“What!? By the Gods, Brienne! What has happened since you left home?” Selwyn looked pained
asking the question. Afraid of hearing things that no father would want to think on.

Brienne told him everything from the time in Renly’s camp to Lady Catelyn, to escorting Jaime to
King’s Landing. She told her father everything except the truth of why Jaime killed Aerys. It
wasn’t her place to share that tale.

Selwyn sighed and closed his eyes; leaning forward on the railing. “You’re in love with him.”

“Yes.”

“I appreciate what the boy has done to keep you safe, but don’t get dragged into this mess between
him and his sister. I want to see you with someone who reciprocates your love or at least
appreciates it. If this is some sick, twisted game that he and his sister are playing...”

“It’s not. Just… talk to him for yourself. Then form an opinion. I made the mistake of judging him
before knowing him.” Brienne smirked as she looked to Selwyn. “Oh… and he slapped Ronnet
across the face.”

Selywn’s eyes went wide in shock before he guffawed. “Alright, alright. I’ll talk to the boy.”

Brienne looked out over the yards as Selwyn turned to walk inside. He chuckled as he went and
muttered to himself. “I wish I had slapped Red Ronnet.”

Making her way inside, Brienne found her way back to her room. She cleaned up before supper
and sat down to read a book. The one enjoyable part about being stuck in confinement when she
wasn’t training or with Jaime, was having access to more books than could fit on all of Tarth.

So lost in her book was Brienne that she barely heard the knock at her door. “Brienne? Gods child
have you fallen asleep with a book on you again?”

Brienne rolled her eyes at the sound of her father’s voice. He had caught her more than once during
childhood fast asleep under the sun’s rays on the beach with a book on her chest. When she wasn’t
training in the yards and knocking the boys into the dirt, she was known to take to the water and
then dry off in the sun while reading a good book.

“Come in.” Brienne stood from her seat and put down the book as Selwyn entered the room. He
chuckled as he looked to the novel on the table and closed the door behind him. Slumping into the
chair, he let out a sigh and rubbed at his knee.

He had taken a nasty fall at the cliffs some years back and his leg had never been the same. He
trained with her as best he could after the injury, but he never kept up quite the same.
“You look properly worn out. I imagine you’ve been speaking to Jaime... or rather listening to his
monologue. He can prattle on endlessly.” Selwyn chuckled at her deadpan tone. Running a hand
over his face, he let out a longsuffering sigh.

“The pair of you deserve each other… great dolts.” His words held no bite as he smiled warmly at
Brienne. “I think you’ve met your match, although he has better perfected the pining than you
have. At first, I thought he was playing me false, but it’s in the eyes. Gods, help me. My daughter
is in a love match with Jaime Lannister. When do we start training then?”

Brienne beamed at her father and flung herself into Selwyn's arms in appreciation. “We can eat
first, then I can knock you around the yard.”

Selwyn chuckled and nodded. “Good, good. Oh… one other thing.”

Brienne stood back to search her father’s eyes. He looked worried and his tone was no different.
“That reason I always stayed off the mainland after Aerys… well, your goodfather is quite
observant. He knows.”
 A Meeting of the Tys
Chapter Summary

Genna worries as she watches her big brother scheme. Tyrion proves himself the most
like Tywin.

Chapter Notes

Not so much Braime in this one, but i get back to that in the next couple of chapters
(hopefully I can edit and post at least one more today)

Genna waited outside Tywin’s study after rapping her knuckles against the wooden door. An
attendant had summoned her on Tywin’s behalf just before she was about to enjoy her afternoon
tea. By the Gods, this man will be the death of me.

The door swung open to reveal her big brother looking pleased as ever. Tywin grabbed her by the
arm and tugged her inside wordlessly. “Gods, Ty! What now!? Did you walk in on your son and
Brienne going at it again?”

Leading her into the room after ensuring the door was shut firmly, Tywin barked at her. “Sit
down.”

With a huff of irritation, Genna looked to her brother. He has that look in his eyes. Scheming.
“You’ll never believe what I’ve come to learn about our new alliance.”

Oh no. Genna sighed loudly and leaned her left elbow on the armrest. Resting her chin in her left
hand, Genna looked to Tywin and gave a feeble shrug. “Do I want to know? I so hate when you get
this way.”

“Her father, in addition to being the size of whole bloody Keep, has quite the bloodline. The Tarth
line dates back far. Here. Look at this.”

Tywin threw a book in front of Genna. He pointed aggressively to a page and Genna took note of
the Tarth sigil on the upper left-hand corner.

“I went to the library last night to do a little research on House Tarth. Like the Starks, they trace
their ancestry back to the First Men. Being an island, they likely weren’t as overwhelmed by Andal
culture and rule. This is no great secret of course. The Evenstars were kings before the Andals
came.”

Tywin’s tone changed from emotionless to teasing; something Genna hadn’t heard since the twins
were born. The inflection reminded her so much of Tyrion. “They say that giants roam the lands
north of the Wall with unblemished bloodline to the First Men. I can believe that now that I’ve met
Lord Tarth.”
Genna sighed and rubbed at her brow. “Truly, Ty. I don’t know why you deny it so much. Tyrion
and you are absurdly similar. The boy spends his free time with his nose in books, reading up on
other houses and the history of these lands.”

Begrudgingly, Tywin hummed in acknowledgement. “Yes, I saw him in the library last night. I will
say, he did prove useful in one matter. We were looking through these pages together.”

Tywin flipped to a section that succeeded the House Tarth background. His hand traced down from
the first known Tarth to a later branch of the family tree.

“By the Gods, Ty. Were you bonding with your son? Stranger take me now!” Genna’s tone
dripped with sarcasm, but inwardly she smiled at the thought of Tywin finally interacting with
Tyrion in a healthy way.

Tywin glared down at her as he continued to point to the page. “Have you had enough now,
Genna?”

After taking a deep breath, Tywin went back to the pages. “What more intrigues me however, is
the relationship between the Tarths and the Targaryens.”

Oh, no. I fear that I know where this is going.

“The Tarth Triplets. Do you remember the tale?” Tywin’s finger moved to the family line that
dated to the days of Aegon the Conqueror.

Genna hummed from her seat. “Yes, yes. The Evenstar’s wife birthed triplets. A most rare
occurrence. One of Aegon the Conqueror’s sister-wives arranged betrothals on behalf of the girls.
What of it?”

Tywin smiled from his seat. “Why do you suppose they might do that? Why would Aegon the
Conqueror give two shits about triplets born to a descendent of the First Men on Tarth?”

Rolling her eyes, Genna huffed at Tywin. “You’re going to tell me regardless of what I say, so get
on with it.”

“I’ll concede, this is where Tyrion proved useful. He said that in most records of noble family
lines, spousal names were not recorded or removed when they meant to protect secrets. Even
bastards were listed where it concerned a marriage to a noble. I didn’t realize what the Tarths
might be hiding until today. The reason Aegon cared about these triplets is because of the mother.
She was a Targaryen. A cousin of Aegon who wed the Evenstar of Tarth to establish an alliance
between the Tarth First Men and the Targaryen Valyrians. Just as the First Men of the south wed
the Andals, the Valyrians hoped to make allies across lines. Selwyn confirmed as much today
when I confronted him on his appearance and his line. He thought it was his size that tipped me
off, but it wasn’t just his size.”

Tywin’s eyes sparkled with delight as he looked to Genna.

“Well let me preface this by saying, Selwyn did not wish to disclose his maternal heritage. His
mother was a bastard and he tried to play off his grandparents as nothing of note, but I saw it in his
eyes.”

Genna’s brows furrowed in confusion “What are you on about, Ty?”

With a smug smile, Tywin sat down in his chair and crossed his arms. “When he came off the
boat, he was enraged. Brienne warned me to stand back as he might try to lop my head off with his
fist. I almost wish he had, because it might have knocked the shock from me. It wasn’t just his size
that struck me. It was his eyes. Yes, I suppose they’re a passing shade of blue, but when he is
enraged… they are most definitely a violet storm. It reminded me of Aerys. He couldn’t play his
game any longer when I pointed that out.”

Tywin’s smirk became impossibly wider as he looked to Genna for reaction. “His father’s side of
course is the Tarth line, but his maternal side demonstrates just how strong the bond between
House Tarth and House Targaryen became over the years. His grandmother is Princess Rhae
Targaryen; sister to Aegon V. His grandfather is Ser Duncan the Tall. They had an affair while
Duncan served in Aegon’s Kingsguard. They secreted the babe to Tarth where many Targaryen
bastards have gone.”

Genna felt her eyes widen in surprise. Gods. It certainly explains a lot. Tywin nodded at Genna’s
reaction. “Similar to his hesitance to disclose his mother’s side, the man refuses to tell me of
Brienne’s mother. If his discomfort is any indication, Brienne may have an even more recent
Targaryen blood.”

This. This is exactly what I was afraid of.

“And what of it? Clearly, he doesn’t want it known. They would have pressed their claim sooner.
Hells, the girl supported Renly when the war broke out!” Genna glared at Tywin as she watched
his mind spin with possibilities.

“Don’t you see, Genna? My son! My wonderful idiot of a son may have fallen in love with,
potentially, a princess. And here I thought Tarth would bring us little more than improved trade
routes. My gooddaughter could bring us a stronger claim to the crown. A Lannister could sit on the
Iron Throne! A bloodline uniting the First Men, Valyrians, and the Andals.”

Tywin stood from his chair and began to pace excitedly. “If Brienne does have strong enough
claim, Tommen will abdicate on account of Brienne’s bloodline. This solves the issue of concern
over Tommen’s lineage. Men like Stannis will have no cause to rally against. This also solves the
issue of the Targaryen girl’s claim across the sea. She fancies herself the last living Targaryen.”

With a hum of excitement, Tywin continued. “Tommen will be Lord of Storm’s End as is his right.
You and I both know that Tommen is not strong enough to rule Westeros. He is too kind of heart
and far too young. Not enough military clout nor political savvy for it.”

“No.” Genna’s voice was stern and she stood from her chair, glaring at her older brother.

Tywin scoffed at her words and puffed out his chest. “No? I don’t recall asking for your opinion.
I’m merely explaining to you what will happen if my theory holds.”

“Have you learned nothing from the past days’ events? Get to know your children, Ty. Jaime
doesn’t even want to be Lord of the Rock. What makes you think he wants to play King?”

With a raised brow, Tywin met Genna’s eyes. “I’m not asking him to play king. I’m telling him to
play consort. He loves this woman and will stand by her. She will be queen. Brienne Lannister of
Tarth.” Tywin’s chest swelled with pride as he looked out the window.

Genna felt her frustration mounting and she grabbed Tywin’s arm. “Enough, now! Do you realize
the severity of what is going on!? You might lose your son. You might lose this gooddaughter
you’ve come to enjoy. What difference will anyone’s bloodline make if their heads are on a
spike!?”
Taking a steadying breath, Genna released his arm and spoke imploringly. “Promise me that you
will not act on any of these theories until after the Trial by Combat. Jaime and Brienne don’t need
this added pressure. Before Joanna died, you were different. A protector. Loving. Since she died, I
have seen you turn cruel and bitter. Obsessed with your own name. Even now you talk of a
Lannister on the throne. Your son and gooddaughter need that brain and power of yours
concentrated on what matters most. Getting them through this fight. No scheming!”

Tywin nodded in agreement. “I’ll see them through this first and we’ll deal with the rest later.”

Genna spoke her next words hesitantly. “As Tyrion said last night, this is a secret for a reason.
Selwyn is no fool. His daughter will be in danger if she is outed as having Targaryen lineage.
Clearly, they had been hiding this on account of Robert’s killing of Targaryens. Stannis will come
for her! He wants his crown.”

Tywin’s head snapped to Genna. His tone devoid of any excitement it previous held. “No one will
touch my son and gooddaughter. I will protect Brienne as though she were my own blood… as I
would have before Joanna passed.” A flicker of a memory crossed Tywin’s face.

“She reminds me of her. Personality of course; not looks.”

Genna’s brows furrowed in confusion at his words.

Tywin hummed as if unaware he had made the comment out loud. “Brienne. Do you remember
what they used to say of me and Joanna?”

A loud guffaw pushed past Genna’s lips as she nodded enthusiastically. “Yes! They japed ‘Tywin
Lannister rules the Seven Kingdoms, but his wife rules at home.’ I hadn’t much thought on it until
you just mentioned it, but if ever someone is ruling that marriage, it is Brienne.”

A fond smile spread across Tywin’s face. “Jaime needs that. A strong woman, but not a poisonous
one. You say he is driven by love. That he followed Cersei’s orders. Well mayhap you have the
right of it. Brienne will do him good. She seems a good influence… and she may even have a
claim.”

With a heavy sigh, Genna shook her head. “I hope you’re not getting your hopes up over a theory. I
can understand Selywn’s hesitance to be transparent given his family background. Clearly Tarth is
accustomed to hiding Targaryen bastards of royal connection. It could be that and nothing more.”

“I’m telling you Genna, you didn’t see the man. There is something more to this. He would not tell
me who Brienne’s mother was. He was uncomfortable enough when I confronted him on his
bloodline, but he became even more disconcerted when I asked after his late wife. I’m going to
obtain the information that I seek, and I would wager all the gold at the Rock that this girl has
claim.”

Genna rubbed at her forehead. “I see no good that can come of this. Besides, if he won’t admit the
truth of his wife’s lineage, I can’t imagine how you plan to find out. Clearly it is a well-kept
secret.”

At Genna’s words, there was a knock on the door and Tywin’s smile grew impossibly wider. She
gave her brother a questioning look and watched as he shrugged. “What? You told me to get to
know my children better. I’m not as ignorant to their desires as you might think.”

Tywin moved to the door and pulled it open to reveal an unamused looking Tyrion. The young
man’s tone dripped with sarcasm. “My lord, father. You summoned.”
Directing Tyrion into the room, Tywin indicated for him to take a seat with a silent instruction to
Genna to do the same.

Taking a seat himself, Tywin straightened his back to full height and Genna couldn’t help but roll
her eyes. He always feels the need to posture himself like that when speaking to his children. Idiot.
It doesn’t make you appear more authoritative to them. It puts them on the defensive and makes
them want to work against you.

“Tyrion, I’ve been considering some things at the behest of your aunt.”

Genna muttered in reply. “Don’t bring me into this nonsense.”

“Beyond what we discussed last night, some additional information has come to my attention about
the lineage of your new goodsister. I’m aware of her father’s background, but her mother’s remains
elusive. I have reason to believe that Brienne may have claim to the throne. Her mother is likely to
have Targaryen blood. This does not leave this room!”

Tyrion’s eyes flitted warily to Genna as he straightened from his slouched position. Tywin held his
gaze and continued. “I need you to find out the background of Selwyn’s wife, Lady Tarth.”

With a guffaw, Tyrion slouched back into this seat. “Why would I do that? Why can’t you figure it
out? Aren’t you the omnipotent Tywin Lannister? Hand of the King. Savior of the city.”

Genna bit back the laugh threatening to push past her lips as she looked to her brother with
amusement writ across her face. Taking a deep breath and summoning every ounce of patience he
had, Tywin forced a false smile as he looked to his youngest child.

“I am your father and you will do as I ask or…”

Gods here we go. More threats. More delusions of grandeur.

Tyrion interrupted Tywin’s words with a mocking lilt in his voice. “Oh, I so enjoy when your
requested aid comes in form of a threat against my person. It makes me so eager to help you and
solve your problems.”

Tywin’s face contorted in thinly veiled rage. “Are you done now!?”

With a shrug of indifference, Tyrion motioned for Tywin to carry on.

“As I was saying, I am your father and you will do as I ask or lose the opportunity for what you
desire most. It may be that your brother finds himself unable to take on his duties as Lord of the
Rock if my belief in Brienne’s lineage rings true. Jaime will need to stay here, in the capital. The
Rock will need someone to lead. In name, Jaime will be lord, but you will have the Rock in his
stead.”

Tyrion’s eyes went wide in disbelief and Genna felt she may die from shock. None of this is real.
Jaime in love with and married to a good woman. Tywin offering Tyrion the Rock. Seven take me.
What will he say next? Cersei is to face the Mountain?

“Can I get this in writing?”

Tywin’s eyes narrowed in irritation at Tyrion. “Is your aunt’s presence here not enough? You think
this insufferable woman will give me a moment’s peace if I don’t follow through on my word? As
I said, Jaime will be lord in name, but you will have the Rock. Of course, any heirs he and Brienne
have would be first in line after filling the throne. Should they fail to produce the necessary number
of heirs, any children you bear will be in line for the title. Of course they will have Winterfell as
well.”

Tyrion still seemed uncertain and Genna could hardly blame him. “Why would I believe that you’ll
give me the Rock? Why wouldn’t you return there to lead if your suspicions are true? You would
have Jaime and Brienne here.”

Tywin scoffed and held Tyrion’s gaze. “I’m to be Hand of course! You think those two know the
first thing about ruling? They can barely handle speaking to each other without tripping over
themselves.”

Ah, there it is. Lannisters on the throne and Tywin to do the actual ruling .

Considering his father, Tyrion leaned back in his chair. “I quite like my new goodsister. I quite like
my brother. Why would I do this to them? Surely you realize that neither of them would want
this… assuming they live to see it come to fruition. By the way, have you still failed to figure out a
way to save them from this nonsense with the Mountain?”

Genna smirked at her brother. For his part, Tywin offered little more than a frustrated sigh. “This
isn’t about what they want. It is about what they need. So long as Tommen sits on the throne,
Cersei will have power. What better way to remove any threat she brings to them by ensuring she
has no substantive claim to the throne? I always thought her love for her children outweighed
anything else. Now I fear that not even the children outweigh her thirst for power. She must be
removed.”

Tyrion stroked his chin in consideration. “You’ll need to make this about Brienne and her claim.
Westeros will not be pleased to see the Kingslayer playing the role of Consort. Tarth is removed
enough that it has no ill will with any of the Kingdoms. The Tyrells seem to like Brienne enough,
but they won’t be pleased if Margaery loses the chance to be queen. Sansa has come to like Brienne
and hopefully could sway the North. Dorne, the Riverlands, and the Vale may pose an issue, but
our combined forces would protect the crown.”

Genna observed the impressed gaze from Tywin. Humming in agreement, Tywin looked to Tyrion
in quiet contemplation. With a challenging brow, Tyrion spoke again. “How long do I have?”

“Tonight.”

An amused laugh echoed off the walls as Tyrion shook his head. “I’m good, but I’m not that
good.”

“To rule the Rock, you’ll need to be that good. Get me the information tonight.”

With a sigh, Tyrion moved from the chair and gave a mock bow. “I’ll see what I can do.”

Tyrion left the room and Genna cast a warning glance to Tywin. “Tread carefully on this. I do not
want to see harm befall Jaime nor Brienne.”

With a shockingly sincere nod of agreement, Tywin held her eyes. “Nor I. They may fight me on
this, but it is the surest way to keep them and our houses safe. Cersei will never be able to touch
them.”

Much later that evening, Genna took to the yards with Tywin. They had dined with the Tarths and
overheard the father and daughter planning to train that evening. Neither Genna nor Tywin had the
opportunity to see Brienne with a sword in hand yet. They had heard rumors around the Keep. The
men Tywin had sent to train with Brienne came back limping and near tears.
Tywin of course had reserved his knights to first see what Brienne was capable of. It wasn’t until
he ran out of willing Lannister soldiers that he realized it was time to witness the girl in action. One
of his senior commanders was in the city and joined them in the yards. Ser Bryan was a kind man
nearly Jaime’s age. He joined Genna and Tywin at their request.

Brienne and her father had just entered the training yard when Tywin sent Ser Bryan to them.
Neither Genna nor Tywin could hear the conversation, but the body posture of the Tarths told them
that the spar had been accepted.

Selwyn moved to the side and continued stretching as he watched his daughter spar. To say that
Brienne handled the commander with ease would be an understatement. At Genna’s side, Tywin
sucked in a sharp breath as he watched Brienne easily disarm and embarrass one of his best men.

“Gods. She’s horrifying.”

Genna chuckled and nodded in appreciation of the girl’s skill. “No wonder Jaime fell in love with
Brienne. He probably enjoys getting knocked around by her.”

Tywin muttered at Genna’s side. “I need better training partners for her. She’ll win this fight with
Gregor.”

After a few more failed rounds on Bryan’s part, the knight bowed out graciously and winced as he
hobbled back to them. Selwyn moved to take Bryan’s place and the pair began sparring. They
needled at one another before clashing swords; amusement writ on both of their faces.

Selwyn was all force and no speed. His style similar to the brute strength of the Mountain, but it
was evident that his knee ailed him and he was not as conditioned as Ser Gregor. Genna continued
to watch the match with Tywin at her side when Ser Bryan reached them.

“Seven hells. That’s no ordinary lady. I hope my son finds a woman like that. Lady Brienne will
make a fine Lady of the Rock, my lord. No one will mess with the West between her and Ser Jaime
leading us.”

A knowing smile tugged at Tywin’s lips and Genna could do little but roll her eyes. From the
corner of her eye, Genna saw a smug looking Tyrion approach. Coming to stand beside his father,
Tyrion looked out at the match; brows raised in awe.

“Remind me never to piss off my goodsister. She is horrifying.”

The resemblance between the two men was striking. The way they postured and looked out at the
yard. The way their minds worked. How they calculated and schemed. Yes, even their description
of Brienne’s skill. Horrifying. You truly are your father’s son, Tyrion. Big Ty and Little Ty.

Tywin glanced down at Tyrion without moving his head. “Tyrion. What information do you bring
me?”

With a wide smile, Tyrion kept his eyes locked on Brienne. “All hail the queen.”
 Remember Who You Are and What You Fight For
Chapter Summary

Brienne reflects on things and trains with someone new.

Brienne stared at the wall while Jaime snored behind her; his arms wrapped around her body. She
had not found much sleep that night. The conversation with Tyrion was too fresh in her mind.

The younger Lannister had come to see her before supper. Her father had just left to see to the
Tarth commanders before supper. Tyrion always seemed to have an agenda and his visit was no
different.

“Ah, goodsister! Mind if I speak with you for a bit?”

Brienne had welcome Tyrion in and offered him some water. The younger man snorted. “Water.
Poor man’s wine I suppose. No, thank you.”

She had watched as he appraised the room and smiled warmly at her. Then he let out a dramatic
sigh. “I do apologize that my father confronted yours about his bloodline. Your father is vey
stubborn though. He wouldn’t admit to your mother’s lineage.”

Seven hells. Not more of this.

“Well its hardly important. As I’m certain your father now realizes, it is not my mother’s side that
is all that interesting.”

A knowing smile pulled at Tyrion’s lips. “Oh, you truly don’t know my father dear goodsister.”
Tyrion extended a hand towards the chairs, encouraging Brienne to sit.

As she took her seat, Tyrion placed a warm hand on Brienne’s forearm. “My father was Hand to
Aerys. They knew each other for many years. He was even at Jaehaerys’ coronation.” Brienne
watched as Tyrion nodded knowingly.

With a deep sigh, Tyrion offered a sympathetic smile. “My father knows Brienne. He hasn’t told
anyone save myself and my aunt. Not even Jaime knows. I’ll admit, I wasn’t surprised to hear of
your father’s more distant Targaryen line, but your mother’s bloodline…”

Tyion tilted his head and Brienne felt panic swell in her chest. Had my father truly read Tywin so
wrong?

“He won’t say anything, will he? Please Tyrion, can you ask him not to?”

Tyrion sighed and sat back in his chair. He offered only a small shrug. “I don’t think he will say
anything right now. There is a lot on the line as it is. Tell me truthfully Brienne. Is it true? I half
think my father as mad as Aerys himself.”

With a resigned sigh, Brienne nodded in affirmation. Tyrion tilted his head and scratched at his
chin. “On the bright side, maybe the claim won’t be seen as strong. She was a bastard Targaryen,
no?”
“What!? No. Duncan and Jenny were wed. Well… I suppose my mother was raised as a bastard…
she had to be.”

Something flickered in Tyrion’s eyes that Brienne couldn’t read. He narrowed his eyes in
consideration. “Ah, yes. He said that. I forgot since she went by Storm despite not being one. My
apologies. Well either way, your secret is safe with me. I just wanted to ensure you were alright. It
has been a long day I imagine.”

Tyrion had left after that and Brienne spent more time trying to read before supper, but she
struggled to concentrate. She decided to return the book she borrowed from the library before
heading to the great hall. Not surprisingly, Tyrion was there pouring through some old records. He
seemed to be as much a constant in the library as the books.

With a polite smile, Brienne returned the book she had borrowed and made her way to supper.

Now as she lay in Jaime’s arms the following morning, she realized that she had to be honest with
Jaime. Tywin Lannister was not a man who sought information without purpose. She worried that
Tywin had been testing her father’s honesty.

Thoughts of her mother rushed forward from a long-suppressed compartment in her mind. She
barely remembered her mother, but she knew of her. Brienne knew that her mother was the only
child of Prince Duncan Targaryen and Jenny of Oldstones.

Prince Duncan and forfeited his claim to the throne when he went against his father’s wishes and
wed Jenny. In anger, Aegon then named Jaehaerys next in line for the throne. Over time, Aegon’s
acceptance of Jenny brought a shift in his attitude. All of Aegon’s children wed for love. All of
them cast aside the betrothals made for them to other notable houses.

Aegon had called the family to Summerhall for multiple reasons. They were celebrating the
looming birth of Jaehaerys’ first grandchild, Aerys’ first babe. They were also coming together to
discuss the line of succession. Aegon was reverting his decision to name Jaehaerys his heir. He
would instead honor birthright and give Duncan the crown when he passed.

From Selwyn’s parents had, Jaehaerys was happy of this. He and his sister-wife did not wish for
the crown. Duncan had been groomed all his life for the position. Duncan and Jenny would be a
love match sitting on the throne.

Selwyn’s parents were at Summerhall when the tragedy happened. They were close with Aegon’s
family on account of Selwyn’s mother being the bastard daughter of Duncan the Tall and Rhae’s
Targaryen. Of course, it was a well-guarded secret. Rhae had since been wed to another and it
would have been scandalous to expose the truth of what she had Ser Duncan had done so many
years ago.

Aegon always looked for opportunities to let his sister and Duncan see their daughter; albeit from
afar. Aegon was not pleased when he first learned of Duncan’s affair with his young sister many
years ago, but his bond with Ser Duncan was so strong that he overlooked it. Duncan appreciated
the king’s generosity in allowing him and Rahe to look on from afar at their daughter, Alysanne,
and their first grandbabe, Selwyn.

During the visit to Summerhall, Selwyn was a boy of one and ten years. He was rambunctious and
massive for his age. Brienne’s grandparents said that it was the one thing that worried Aegon of
having Selwyn and Ser Duncan in the same space. He worried that people would see the
resemblance in their unnatural size. For her part, Alysanne looked like her mother, Princess Rhae,
but she was much larger. Again, another nod to what Rhae and Duncan had done.
A private council with only Aegon, his children, goodchildren, Lord Commander Duncan, and
Maester Corso was held. Selwyn’s parents took him and Brienne’s mother, Arianne, into the
gardens while Aegon and his kin met. Arianne was the infant daughter of Prince Duncan and
Jenny. According to Brienne’s grandfather, that is when the fire happened.

Wildfire erupted and flames consumed the castle. Ser Duncan saved all of Aegon’s children except
Prince Duncan and Jenny, who died immediately with King Aegon. The three had remained behind
in the council room to discuss details of their succession after informing the others just moments
earlier of his decision.

Ser Duncan dragged Maester Corso out after getting the remaining Targaryens to safety, but upon
returning inside to find other survivors, Ser Duncan perished in the flames. Ser Barristan Selmy
had remained behind to guard the surviving Targaryens. Barristan said that Ser Duncan did not
hesitate once; running in to try and save the family he had become an honorary member of.

Maester Corso wrote an account of what happened at Summerhall, but the missive became illegible
as the ink smudged. The maester succumbed to his injuries before he could better document the
incident.

Jaehaerys was inconsolable and was rambling madness. Something about thinking Aerys was
behind the wildfire. Selwyn’s father claimed that Aerys heard rumors of Aegon’s shifting position
on who should succeed him. Those who survived conferred on the matter. Jaehaerys was afraid to
expose the survival of baby Arianne; fearful Aerys would get to her.

Those who survived the tragedy were sworn to secrecy. Any record of the babe removed from
history. Selwyn’s parents were asked to keep her safe on Tarth as past Targaryens had been. The
Tarths left with the heir to the Iron Throne while Jaehaerys mournfully set about the task of
preparing for his coronation.

Jaehaerys would rule until Arianne came of age and then he would abdicate to her. The mourning
king provided a sealed missive to Selywn’s parents which validated Arianne’s birthname and
birthright. The missive confirmed that Jaehaerys was merely ruling until Arianne came of age.

Until that day, she was no longer Arianne Targaryen, but rather Arianne Storm. Out of Aerys’ sight
and mind, the heir to the Iron Throne would be safe on Tarth. The future queen of Westeros would
grow up side by side with Selwyn Tarth.

Selwyn fell in love with Arianne much to his mother’s, Alyssane’s, displeasure. She felt the
bloodlines too close as Selwyn and Arianne were second cousins. Jaehaerys, despite wedding his
own sister, acknowledged the Targaryen madness openly. Many thought it had to do with their
inbreeding.

Nonetheless, Selwyn was a man in love and his affections were returned by Arianne. They wed and
had Galladon and Brienne before his wife died on the birthing bed delivering twin girls who would
not live out the year.

Selwyn named the twins after his mother, Alysanne, and his wife, Arianne. They still had the
sealed scroll on Tarth, but to Selwyn, it might well have never existed at all. Selwyn grew up in
Aerys’ Westeros. Few were safe as word of the king’s descent into madness circulated.

Jaehaerys’ reign had been short-lived; a mere three years. Jaehaerys had never been a healthy man,
but an illness took him. To Westeros, he was merely a sickly Targaryen king who fortunately had a
son and young grandson ready to see the line of Targaryen kings continue.
To those on Tarth and closest to the Targaryen family, suspicion spread like wildfire. Selwyn’s
parents always thought that Aerys had something to do with his father’s death. It was evident that
Arianne was not safe and the Tarths decided to stay put on the island. Reaffirm their loyalty to
House Baratheon and act as though they had no ties to the crown.

Only the occasional missive from Ser Barristan Selmy made its way to Tarth. The knight felt honor
bound to ensure Arianne’s safety, but he understood it wasn’t safe for her to lay claim. Ser
Barristan relayed to Selwyn that he thought Rhaegar would make a good king. The undertone of
his missive was there. Sane, unlike his father.

The missives were always vague enough to not rouse suspicion if they fell into the wrong hands.

Rolling over to face Jaime, Brienne felt his arms pull her closer as his forehead pressed to hers.
“Wench. You’re thinking too loudly. Disturbing my sleep.”

“You’re snoring too loudly. Disturbing my thinking.”

Jaime snorted and opened his eyes. Brienne’s favorite eyes.

“What are you thinking about that has you disturbing my snoring then?” His tone was light, but the
topic was anything but.

I shouldn’t say anything yet. He has a lot on his mind with the Trial by Combat. Surely if I fail him,
his father will find a way to secret him out before execution.

“Nothing. I should get to the yards and train.”

Jaime groaned in protest and rolled to his back, staring at the ceiling. “No, don’t leave me here.
It’s terribly boring. They don’t let me go anywhere.”

“You’re a prisoner accused of killing the king. What would you have them do? Take you sailing or
on a countryside horse ride? Mayhap you would like to attend a tourney?” Brienne’s tone dripped
with sarcasm, but Jaime chose to ignore it.

“Exactly! Like when I was your captive. Gods, we had so much more fun then.”

“That was not fun, Jaime.”

“Of course it was. In fact, I recall you taking me on a horse ride the day we set out from Robb
Stark’s camp.”

Brienne guffawed and looked to Jaime. “We had to put ground between us and the camp. They
would have just dragged you back.”

Jaime chuckled and shook his head. “No, that’s not the real reason. You wanted to go on a
romantic evening ride. It was lovely. Then we spent days on end skipping through fields together.”

“Are you mad? We did not skip anywhere. We walked.”

“I didn’t say anything about frolicking, wench. We skipped as in cut through fields. Now you’re
just overromanticizing. Such a girl. Anyway…then you took me on a wonderful canoe ride.”

Brienne could do little more than chuckle at his absurdity.

“I got to lay there sunbathing. You looked so gallant in your armor, rowing me down the river. It
was quite nice.”
“Uh huh. Yeah. That’s exactly what I was going for. I in no way had visions of throwing you into
the river or drowning you.”

Jaime ignored her and kept prattling on. “Then you protected me from those horrid Stark soldiers
who looked at me a bit too lasciviously. Truly, Brienne. I was worried for a moment. They seemed
to have a thing for lions.”

“Now you’re just unwell.” Brienne sighed as she looked to the ceiling and shook her head. A smile
tugging at her lips.

Jaime’s arms began to flail dramatically as he fake swooned over the tale. “So brave. A true
knight. You just went ahead and cut them all down.”

“Yes, and not long after you tried to kill me on a bridge. A lot of thanks I get.”

Jaime scoffed indignantly. “What!? I did not try to kill you! I asked for a dance and it was
beautiful.”

“Shall I call for the maester? You don’t seem right in the head. I think I preferred you snoring.”

Jaime moved over her, pushing her legs apart with his knees. He had a wide smile on his face as he
looked down at her. “How do you remember it then?”

With a sarcastic smile, Bienne began her version of the adventure. “I got stuck downwind of your
shit covered garments as I tried to put ground between us and Robb Stark’s camp so they wouldn’t
lop off both of our heads. Once we were far enough away, I got rid of the horse so they couldn’t
follow our tracks. You immediately began antagonizing me. Things like ‘You’re much uglier in
daylight’ and ‘Have you known many horses?’ I had to summon every bit of restraint to not run
you through with my sword.”

She could see that Jaime was biting back a laugh as he tried to protest. “What… I do not recall…”

Ignoring his interruption, she pressed on. “We were surrounded by enemies or Robb Stark’s men
hunting us down. I nearly died of exertion rowing you downstream while fully armored. I was
convinced that if I passed out of exhaustion and toppled out of the bloody boat, I would drown with
all that armor on.”

Again, Jaime bit back a laugh and tried to interrupt. “That dour head of yours would have bubbled
right up to the surface. I considered it.”

With a warning glare, Brienne continued. “Then you insulted the only man who was ever kind to
me. The man I swore to protect and who died on my watch. Then you nearly got us killed by those
Stark soldiers. We would have passed through fine had you not insisted on trying some horrid
attempt at a Northern accent. Stealing a pig… really.”

Jaime chuckled and shook his head. “My accent was fantastic. It’s this beautiful face they couldn’t
help but recognize.”

“Then you stole my sword and tried to kill me on a bridge.”

With a wide smile, Jaime continued laughing. “No, no. You ruined the entire story. I much prefer
my version. We’ll stick with that when our twelve children ask me to tell them how I met their
mother.”

“Twelve!?”
Before she could protest further, Jaime’s lips were on hers; swallowing any protest.

When she emerged from the room sometime later, the guards offered an amused chuckle. Gods. I
don’t even want to think on what they heard. I imagine Jaime is the only prisoner with such
pleasurable visits.

Brienne made her way to the yards to train. Her father was already there and speaking with some of
the Tarth men as the group drilled. “Ah! There you are. Gods, girl. I didn’t realize your form of
training these days involved shuttered lids and snoring. Good of you to join us.”

Well… shuttered lids a bit. I won’t tell you what kind of sword I was dealing with.

Brienne spent hours drilling with the Tarth men and her father. Not long before she meant to break
for lunch, Obery Martell approached.

“Lady Brienne. You’re quite formidable with a blade. The Mountain would be foolish to
underestimate you.”

Brienne offered a small smile in return and nod of the head. “Thank you.” Starting to walk away,
Oberyn’s voice halted her.

“You’ll still lose though.”

Brienne turned back towards Oberyn slowly. “Why do you say that?”

With a smirk, Oberyn wandered to the rack where the various weapons were held. He picked up a
spear and tossed it around in his hands. “The Mountain’s reach is longer than yours. Yes, you are
faster, but to cut him with that blade of yours, you’ll be dangerously close. You need a spear. Have
you used the spear before?”

“I have not.” Brienne moved towards Oberyn and studied the spear in his hand. The logic made
sense. She had been training with her father on the same issue. Trying to stay out of his reach while
finding openings to safely move in and attack. Her father was slower than Ser Gregor though.
Mayhap she underestimated the Mountains’ speed.

With a wide smile, Oberyn offered to train with her. The pair worked in the yards for quite some
time. Brienne was thrilled to be challenged by Oberyn’s style of fighting. She learned much of the
spear during their time sparring and Brienne concurred that she would need the weapon in the fight
to come.

After both were sufficiently worn out, Oberyn smiled and offered some water from his flask. They
spoke for some time as they caught their breath. Most of the topics covered were mindless. When
Brienne decided to head inside and clean up before lunch, she took pause to thank the Dornish
prince.

“I appreciate you helping me learn the spear. Your advice is much appreciated.” Brienne smiled
warmly as Oberyn rose from his seated position beside her.

“It was my pleasure. In fairness, I would be lying if I said that I didn’t have a vested interest in this
fight. If you don’t kill the Mountain, rest assured that I will.”

His face had become very serious and the tone caught Brienne off guard. “Has the man wronged
you?”

With a bitter laugh, Oberyn looked towards the Keep. “My sister was wife to Rhaegar Targaryen.
When the city fell, the Mountain raped and murdered her. He killed her children. Justice will be
served one way or the other. I have confidence that you can defeat him, but I admit that I’m slightly
jealous you will get to deal the killing blow.”

Brienne huffed a laugh. “I wish it didn’t need to be this way. If only Jaime had kept his mouth
shut…”

Oberyn chuckled and shook his head before interrupting her. “The moment Cersei and Loras tried
to lay blame on you, he could no longer bite his tongue. Your lion loves you something fierce.
Remember that when you fight. Always remember what you fight for. I never do.”
 The Mountain and The Princess
Chapter Summary

The day of the Trial by Combat arrives. Tywin reflects on everything and watches his
gooddaughter fight for his son.

It was the day of the Trial by Combat and Tywin had never felt so anxious. Though he wore his
stoic mask, his mind buzzed with fear. Fear for his son, his golden child, his heir. Fear for his new
gooddaughter who he felt a surprising urge to protect regardless of her exposed bloodline. Fear of
what may come even if they made it through this fight.

That Brienne was the heir to the Iron Throne was an unexpected twist that Tywin could never have
imagined. While he wouldn’t give Tyrion the satisfaction of knowing it, he was amazed at how
quickly the younger Lannister unveiled the truth. When Tywin sat down with Selwyn to better
understand the claim, he feigned existing knowledge of Brienne’s heritage positioning it more as a
test of the Tarth’s honesty.

Begrudgingly, Selwyn admitted the truth of it all. As he told the tale, all the pieces came together
perfectly in Tywin’s mind. It makes so much sense. How did I never see this? Tywin remembered
Aerys’ irrational fear of his father’s line being placed behind Duncan’s line for succession.

At the time, no one knew that Aegon was considering returning Duncan’s status as heir. Tywin
recalled that Prince Duncan was different than most Targaryens. He desired neither power nor
notoriety; merely love. While Tywin also wanted love, he was ambitious and struggled to
understand how neither of Aegon’s firstborn sons sought the crown.

When Duncan went against Aegon’s wishes and married his love, Jenny, Jaehaerys was displeased
to be named as heir. Aegon thought to punish Duncan for his insolence by stripping him of his
birthright, but Jaehaerys felt the crown as much a punishment for himself. Only Aerys seemed
pleased by his father’s position in line for the crown.

Tywin and Aerys had been close as children. He had served as a page at court and met Prince
Aerys there. They befriended Steffon Baratheon of Storm’s End and the three become inseparable.
It wasn’t until the Tragedy at Summerhall that Tywin noticed a change in Aerys.

Tywin had heard of the summit at Summerhall and his friend’s paranoia could hardly be masked.
Aerys was convinced that Aegon was going to make a horrible decision for Westeros, but Tywin
thought his worries ungrounded.

When tragedy struck, Aerys hardly mourned the loss of his kin. If anything, Aerys struck Tywin as
pleased. The observation worried Tywin, but he stood by his friend. All the while, Tywin had
fallen in love with his cousin, Joanna.

She was a lady-in-waiting at court to Princess Rhaella, so the pair saw each other often. Jaehaerys
reign was short, a mere three years, and when Aerys was named King, he selected Tywin to be his
Hand.

The same year, Tywin and Joanna wed and Tywin recalled it being the happiest day of his life.
That happiness was short lived. Aerys made inappropriate comments towards Joanna on their
wedding day.

Aerys openly lusted after Tywin’s wife and it was around that time that foul rumors began to
circulate claiming Joanna lost her maidenhead to Aerys the night of Jaehaerys’ coronation. In a fit
of rage, Tywin tried to resign from his position as Hand. Aerys would have none of it.

Tywin swore to anyone in earshot that the rumors were ungrounded, but in private he feared asking
Joanna. He worried after her and tried to keep distance between his wife and the increasingly
volatile king. Joanna expressed a disinterest in Aerys and Tywin sensed a slight fear on his wife’s
part.

An overwhelming instinct to protect Joanna took root in Tywin. It was that feeling which Tywin
imagined Jaime felt for Brienne in the Riverlands. Loathe as he was to admit it, Tywin understood
Jaime’s protectiveness of Brienne. He would have done the same for Joanna.

If that filth in court had been spoken of Joanna, I would have murdered someone. I suppose I
should give Jaime a break.

Tywin broke his fast with Selwyn that morning. After their discussion about Brienne’s lineage,
they had agreed to keep the information quiet for now. Tywin was growing to like Brienne’s father.
Although in fairness, even if Tywin didn’t like the man, he wouldn’t let on. Selwyn was a force to
be reckoned with and Tywin had no desire to get on his bad side.

They sat together in companionable silence, both worried for their children. After almost an entire
meal of silence, Selwyn spoke. “What happens in these silly laws if I jumped into the fight and
strangled the Mountain myself?”

Tywin resisted the urge to laugh. It was important that he maintain decorum at the fight. “You
would be guilty of interfering in the Gods will and punished accordingly.”

“So death then?”

“Yes.”

“Would Brienne win though? Would this nonsense be over with or would the crown pick a new
champion?”

Tywin took pause and considered the question. “I believe the crown would be given the chance to
name a new champion.”

Selwyn scoffed. “Mayhap it was the Gods will that I choked the life out of the miserable shit
before harm befell innocents. Where is that taken into consideration?”

Biting back a smile, Tywin glared at Selwyn. “I don’t make the laws. I enforce them.” Looking
away from the man, he spoke in hushed tones. “Mayhap the cell door gets left open after you’re
arrested though.”

Selwyn snorted and went back to eating. Moments later, he spoke more solemnly. “I care not that
she is my only heir. I care not what plans you envision for her in Westeros. I care only that my last
living child is staring into the Stranger’s face today.”

“I understand. There are… arrangements.”

Selwyn cocked a brow at Tywin. “Arrangements?”

Tywin met Selwyn’s eyes and spoke at a volume for only his ears. “I have an expert marksman
with a very well-crafted crossbow prepared to intervene at my signal. Ser Gregor’s neck is as thick
as my thigh. The target won’t be missed. That man may also find his cell door left open. So as not
to confuse my marksman… please remain in your seat. I did not prepare him to decipher between
two giants.”

Selywn guffawed and went back to his meal. “You’re only half as shit as they say.”

A small smile tugged at Tywin’s lips. Yes, Selwyn. I quite enjoy you too.

After eating, Brienne’s armor arrived. Tywin and Selwyn moved to Jaime’s room where they knew
Brienne to be. Please don’t be going at it. I don’t need Selwyn killing my son.

Tywin knocked on the door and this time, waited patiently. When Jaime’s voice bid them enter,
Tywin was surprised to see they were fully clothed and ready for whatever came their way. “Come
on then, Brienne. Time to get your armor on.”

Their small group entered the room and began helping Brienne into her chainmail and armor.
Tywin’s eyes flitted to Jaime who looked like he might keel over and die. Breathe son. We’ll keep
her safe.

When Brienne was fully armored, Tywin looked back to one of the attendants who had collected
Oathkeeper from her room. Jaime smiled widely at the sight. His eyes fixed on Brienne as she
strapped on the sword belt.

Calling for the guards, Tywin watched in discomfort as they chained Jaime’s wrists and took him
from the room. Jaime’s eyes stayed fixed on Brienne the entire time.

Selwyn pulled his daughter into a firm hug. “Remember everything we discussed his week.
Remember what you learned. Never stop fighting little star.”

Moving to stand beside Selwyn, Tywin appraised Brienne. She looked very bit the image of a
knight. Were it not for her sex, Tywin imagined she would already be in the White Book. “You
kept my son alive in the Riverlands. Please save him now. Both of our Houses are in your hands.”

Brienne nodded sternly before Tywin and Selwyn moved from the room. She would soon follow,
but they needed to take their places first. Tywin must appear impartial as Hand, but he intended to
walk in with Selwyn to make it clear to Cersei who he was rooting for.

Making his way to the arena where the match would take place, Tywin looked down to see Jaime
surrounded by four guards at the side of the pit. Tywin passed Cersei as he moved towards his
seat. Their eyes locked and Tywin passed a silent message. You will pay for this.

Cersei’s lips tugged into a small smile at the sight of Tywin’s rage. As he took his seat, Tywin
removed his heavy leather jerkin to reveal a formal tunic below it. He wore the colors of Tarth as
Selwyn sat to his right. Genna, Tyrion, and Sansa soon joined them. The trio also wore Tarth’s
colors in a show of solidarity.

A vicious snarl played at Cersei’s features as she appraised the group to her right. Now its my turn
to smile, daughter. Looking out at the arena, Tarth and Lannister soldiers lined the edges. A small
crowd filled the stands comprised mostly of nobles from court. Oberyn showed up to watch the
match as well; a knowing smile tugging at his lips.

Olenna Tyrell and Margaery soon joined Oberyn in the small section to the left of the royal seats.
When Brienne entered the arena, Tywin silently implored Jaime to keep it together and not do
anything foolish.

Jaime had threatened on more than one occasion to interrupt the proceedings and declare himself
his own champion. Only Brienne’s threats seemed to shut him up. From down the row, Tywin
heard Cersei’s huff of irritation at the sight of Brienne’s armor.

That’s right daughter. Brienne is our choosen kin now.

The Mountain entered the arena next and moved to the opposite side from Brienne. At the sight of
the man, Tywin felt a chill go down his spine. His eyes flitted to Jaime who moved quickly to
Brienne. He was whispering aggressively what Tywin imagined to be an appeal for Brienne to
withdraw and let him fight for himself.

While he couldn’t hear the conversation, the look on Brienne’s face and brief words she spoke told
Tywin all he needed to know. Jaime would be keeping his mouth shut for once.

Tywin scanned the lookout tower near the water’s edge which stood just to the southeast of the
arena. There he could see his assigned marksman who would await signal from Tywin should it
prove necessary to intervene.

Pycelle shuffled into the pit and stood at the center. He began his preamble as the crowd grew
restless, calling for battle. Oh, Gods. Damnit Pycelle the sun will set before you finish this shit.
With the flick of his wrist, Tywin called for the horn to sound indicating the start of the combat.

Jaime rushed forward and tugged at Brienne’s hand. His eyes were desperate and Tywin again
worried that his son would do something stupid. Placing a kiss to Brienne’s lips, he spoke in
hushed tones.

Still, Tywin could not hear the words from his position on the raised platform, but Tywin knew
what was said regardless. The words came more from Jaime’s heart than his mouth. ‘I love you.’

Tywin wanted to scream and throw Cersei into the pit. He wanted to name her the crown’s
champion so that Brienne could end her. At Oberyn’s insistence, Brienne started with the spear in
hand while keeping her valyrian steel sword at hip.

Neither Tywin nor Jaime were certain the spear would be a good idea. Brienne was most proficient
in the sword, but they understood the rationale.

As Oberyn insisted, the spear seemed to accomplish its purpose. The Mountain wasted no time
swinging aggressively towards Brienne. She easily dodged the sword and struck it away with the
spear. Tywin could see his gooddaughter adjusting her grip based on the feel of the first strike.

For the first several minutes, the fight was little more than that. The Mountain took aggressive
swings, but Brienne easily dodged them and deflected the blow with her spear. She was well out of
reach, but she needed to start inflicting some damage. Tywin could see the Mountain heaving
slightly from exertion.

Maybe she has the right of it. Fatigue the giant.

The crowd grew agitated as Brienne continued the methodical approaching of assessing, dodging
and deflecting. The Mountain grew irritated and began to grunt in anger. “Fucking bitch. Stand and
fight!”

Another massive swing and this time, Brienne dodged while spinning close to the man. As she cut
under the Mountain’s swing, her spear sliced across his calf. A sharp cry of pain pushed past
Gregor’s lips and Tywin grinned to himself.

For his part, Jaime began pacing nervously. He bit his lip and his flesh hand clenched and
unclenched rapidly. Tywin was convinced he might pass out if he didn’t sit down and try to relax.

Ser Gregor growled and slashed forward several times in a fit of blind rage. Brienne moved quickly
under each blow. Her spear continued to do what Oberyn intended; block and slice. On the final
slice, Brienne cut across the back of the Mountain’s neck and knocked off his helm in the process.

The cut had not gone deep, but blood quickly dripped down the Mountains’ back below his
armored body. With a mighty swing that Tywin had come to expect from the man, the Mountain
sliced straight through the middle of the spear.

Brienne’s eyes went wide in shock as a torrent of swing came her way. Dropping the useless half of
the spear handle that was nothing but wood, Brienne moved under one massive swing while
dropping to her knees and somersaulting forward. She took the bladed half of the broken weapon
and shoved it up and under the backside of the Mountain’s armor.

A shrill cry bellowed from the Mountain as he rounded on her. The blade was sticking out of his
back, just above the tailbone and to the right of his spine. Reaching for her sword, Brienne
unsheathed Oathkeeper and stood in a defensive position. A massive kick from the Mountain sent
Brienne flying backwards at least five feet.

Jaime’s eyes went wide and he surged forward on instinct. The guards grabbed Jaime, pulling him
backwards to prevent him from running into the match. Tywin felt his body tense as the Mountain
began charging after Brienne, swinging wildly.

Tywin watched helplessly as Bienne barely rolled out of the way in time. The edge of Gregor’s
blade caught her left arm and she cried out.

Standing from the ground, Brienne grimaced and held her sword in defensive position again as
Gregor smiled viciously and stalked towards her. “Come on you bitch. I’ll fuck you with this
sword.”

The Mountain swung down hard. The force of his blow nearly took Brienne’s arm off, but she spun
out of the way and landed a blow of her own. Her blade scraped across the Mountain’s left side.
Mingling with the blood oozing from his back, the Mountain clutched at his side. His face
contorted in rage as he righted himself.

Reaching to his back, he grunted in anger and pulled out the piece of spear wedged into his flesh.
Gregor threw blade angrily towards Brienne and started laughing psychotically.

Gods. This man is completely mad. How could I keep him under my banners for so long without
seeing it?

Something shifted in Gregor’s eyes. He has been toying with her. Fear took root in Tywin’s
stomach as his eyes moved again to the marksman in the tower. Give her a chance for this to end
clean.

At Tywin’s side, Genna clutched at the arm of her chair and muttered under her breath. “Gods.
Help her.” Tywin placed a comforting hand on his sister’s forearm and offered a look that feigned
confidence.

His attention moved back to the match at the sound of Gregor charging towards Brienne. Their
swords came together, and the force of his blow nearly took off Brienne’s head as the Mountain’s
deflected steel barely missed her face.

Taking advantage of the proximity, Gregor headbutted Brienne in the face. He then punched her
hard in the stomach, but luckily the armor shielded her from the brunt of it.

Tywin knew the Mountain would try to knock the wind from her. The knight was more of a
brawler than clean fighter. As Brienne absorbed the blow as best she could, she fell to her knees
and earned a hard punch to the side of the head.

As she fell to her back, Gregor took his sword and moved to strike straight down into her middle.
Thankfully the girl had her wits still about her and rolled away while her sword hand swung out
with Oathkeeper and landed a deep cut across the Mountain’s gut. A guttural cry pushed past his
lips as he fell to a knee.

Brienne stood and quickly caught her breath. Bringing up her sword to land a blow to the back of
his neck, Cersei cried out. “Gregor, Now!”

Tywin watched as the Mountain reached for something around his neck. A small bag hung off the
end of a necklace. Gregor hurled it at Brienne’s face and a powdery substance floated into her eyes.
Whatever the substance was, it had an immediate effect on her vision. She dropped her sword and
rubbed at her eyes.

The Mountain grabbed her ankle and yanked hard. Brienne’s legs flew out from under her and she
landed hard on her head. Moving over her, the Mountain clutched at her throat and began to
squeeze before moving his thumbs towards Brienne’s eyes. Gods! He’s going to break open her
skull.

Tywin had seen the Mountain do this once before. A primal fear spread through his body. As he
was about to give the signal the marksman, he saw Brienne’s hand reach up and thrust a dagger
into the Mountain’s head.

What!? Where the hells did that dagger come from?

Selwyn leapt out of his seat at the sight. “At a girl! Finish him off, Brienne!” Looking back to
Tywin, Selwyn nodded firmly. “Always carry a dagger!”

Who are these people?

Jaime had paled and fallen to his knees at Brienne’s near death now turned into near victory.
Blindly fumbling for her sword, Brienne’s hand found the hilt of Oathkeeper. She plunged the
sword into the Mountain’s gut as the man twitched below the blade.

The Mountain gasped for air as Brienne yanked the sword from his belly. Stumbling around his
body blindly, Brienne dropped to a knee behind his head. Squinting hard, she thrust her blade into
his skull with everything she had.

The blade was driven through with such force that it came out through the Mountain’s jaw. Ser
Gregor’s body instantly stilled, and Cersei screamed in rage.

Tywin stood quickly. An intense relief washed over his body as Genna crashed into his arms
sobbing. “Thank the Gods!”

Looking out at the scene, the Tarth soldier were going wild as the Lannister men began to join in
the chorus of cheers for their Lady of the Rock.
The guards quickly removed Jaime’s chains and he ran to Brienne, cradling her in his arms.
“Brienne! You beat the Mountain!” He looked back to the guards and screamed for water.
Whatever was in Brienne’s eyes was causing her immense pain.

From his left, Cersei jumped from her seat and screamed. “Arrest her! The crown has named her a
suspect in the murder of King Joffrey.”

“Enough, Cersei! I will not see you abuse the crown for your personal vendettas! You will not
wrongly implicate my daughter in this! King Joffrey was murdered, but not by our kin!”

Cersei recoiled as if struck. The entire arena had gone silent and all eyes fell on the royal box. “I
am your daughter! Not that beast! Your grandson was murdered by that bitch!”

“I said, enough! Your unhealthy obsession with your brother and goodsister ends today. Guards,
arrest Cersei.”

“What!? What am I to be charged with!?”

“Interfering in a Trial by Combat. Lying as a witness before the Gods. Take your pick!”

The guards rushed to Cersei’s side and grabbed her arms. She screamed and thrashed wildly in
their arms. “I am the queen! You can’t do this!”

I can and I will. You are dead to me.

 My Queen
Chapter Summary

Brienne recovers after the fight with the Mountain.

Jaime held Brienne’s hand as she lay asleep in the bed. After the fight, Jaime remembered nothing
around him save Brienne. Pycelle had rushed over to assess her as Jaime poured water into her
eyes.

Pycelle swiped at some of the powder residue on her armor and brought it close to his eyes and
nose. With a wince, he looked to Jaime. “I know this powder. It blinds its victims and can become
permanent if not treated quickly. We need the antidote.”

“Well, do you have any!?” Tywin’s voice seemed distant to Jaime as he stared at Brienne. His
entire world was in his arms. She saved him from death, but at what cost? Holding her close in his
arms, Jaime pleaded to the Gods to save her sight.

She was a knight. His knight. Without her vision, Jaime knew Brienne would be incapable of ever
fighting again. He knew the pain of losing capability with a sword and he wouldn’t wish it on his
worst enemy.

Pycelle stammered the reply to Tywin’s question. “Yes, my lord. In my stores. I’ll get it.”

“Oh, by the Gods! Is it labeled, man? It will take you an eternity to get there.”

“Yes, it is.”

Tywin barked at one of the Lannister guards. “You there, run as fast as you can to the
Grandmaester’s chambers. Take his instruction for where to find it and what it is called. Hurry or it
will cost you a head.”

Fortunately, the guard valued his head. In seemingly no time, Pycelle was hovering over Brienne
and squeezing droplets of the medicinal liquid into her eyes. A slight ooze from each eye streamed
down the sides of her face.

“That’s the poison being removed. It’s to be expected, my lord.”

Jaime looked to Pycelle with worry. “Did it work? Will she lose her vision?”

Pycelle shrugged and shook his head. “It’s difficult to say, my Lord. Her vision would continue to
deteriorate if the antidote was applied too late. We should know later today however.”

The next concern became her left arm which would need stiches. She was woozy from the blows to
the head and blood loss from her arm. Selwyn had tried to reach down and scoop Brienne up, but
Jaime refused to let go.

“I’ve got her!” I’m strong enough.

They moved Brienne inside quickly and Tywin yelled at the staff to prepare a room in the family
wing. Jaime sighed in relief as the family wing was much closer and as it turned out, Jaime was
strong enough, but ideally only over short distances.

Next time, I’ll remove the armor first.

Pycelle gave Brienne some milk of the poppy before he cleaned the wound and applied stiches to
Brienne’s arm. The poppy put Brienne into a deep sleep. It had been hours of watching her sleep,
but Jaime refused to leave her side. He wanted to be there when she woke up; desperate to know if
her vision had been saved.

My wife. My incredible wench. She beat the fucking Mountain himself. I was a fool for having
challenged her in the Riverlands.

Jaime wasn’t the only one eager to see Brienne’s blue eyes flutter open. Selwyn was seated on the
other side of the bed, staring at his daughter silently. Tywin paced at the foot of the bed; his eyes
fixed on Brienne.

The door to the room opened to reveal Genna. She was talking loudly to some attendants who
scurried in after her; a tray of food and jugs of wine in hand. More voices carried down the
hallway. Voices that Jaime had come to hear quite often over the past moons. Tyrion and Sansa.

They stepped into the room and Genna moved quickly to Jaime’s side. Her hand came to rest at the
back of his neck as it often did when Jaime was a child and in need of comfort. “Has she woken
yet?”

Shaking his head in denial, Jaime looked back at Brienne. Her eyes moved rapidly under her
eyelids and Jaime hoped that whatever poppy induced dreams were plaguing her, they ended with
the Mountain’s head meeting her sword.

Gods she was glorious.

It had taken two guards to yank the sword from Gregor’s skull. The blade was slick with brain
matter and blood. A most gruesome sight. Tywin had the men bring the sword to the keep for
cleaning before returning it to the room.

Genna began handing out goblets of wine to everyone, but Jaime didn’t want any. Nothing would
quell his nerves until he saw those stunning blue eyes look at him. Tyrion broke the silence in the
room as he spoke to lord Selwyn.

“So has your daughter always been that horrifying with weaponry? Was she terrorizing the staff
with a wooden sword before she could walk?”

Selwyn chuckled and sipped his wine. “No. Her brother wanted to be the knight. She wanted to be
the maiden. The Gods were not so kind. Neither got their wish.”

Tyrion’s brows rose. “Oh. What became of your son?”

Jaime glared at Tyrion. Truly? Don’t you think he would be here if he was alive?

“He’s dead. The sea claimed him when he was only eight.”

Surprising everyone, Sansa’s small voice filled the room from her seat in the corner. “Brienne got
to be both. The knight and the maiden. Ser Jaime saved her… twice.”

Selwyn barked a laugh at the words and nodded at Sansa. “Yes, I imagine you’ve the right of it.
Now I hope they call this even and stop trying to one up the other’s valor.”

Jaime smiled. “After how she handled the Mountain, the soldiers of the West will be clamoring to
see her named Commander.”

“No.” Tywin’s stern voice seemed to suck the air out of the room.

Jaime narrowed his eyes at his father as he squeezed Brienne’s hand within his. “Yes.”

“No. It’s too dangerous.”

“I will not ask her to be anything she doesn’t want. She has no desire to sit around in stupid dresses
hosting tea parties. She is the best the West has in the field. I would have her lead if she wants.”

“I said, no! This isn’t about her skill nor what I would have her do. It isn’t safe for her! I won’t
have her risk her life any more than she already has. She is too important to this family and
Westeros.”

At Tywin’s words, everyone’s heads snapped to him. He began to back peddle almost immediately.
“To the West.”

Selwyn straightened in his chair. “We agreed not to push this.”

With a heavy sigh, Tywin looked to the other man. “I didn’t mean indefinitely. We must discuss it
when she is well.” He pointed to Brienne as though it obvious. “Besides, she’s asleep. There’s
nothing to discuss.”

“Discuss what?” Jaime’s question brought everyone’s attention to him. He watched as his father’s
eyes darted to Selwyn before returning to him. A slight confusion pulled at his features.

When Tywin didn’t move to speak, Jaime looked around the room. Everyone seemed to be
avoiding the question and his enquiring eyes. “Is anyone going to tell me what’s going on?”

Selwyn cleared his throat. “You father knew, so I just assumed you did. You are married after all.
Brienne is the heir to the Iron Throne.”

Jaime could do little more than chuckle. “Right. And I’m the heir to the Iron Bank.” When no one
else joined him in laughter, Jaime looked to his kin. “Get it… because we’re rich… no? No one?
Tyrion?”

Tyrion looked to his feet and rocked slightly. His eye flitted slightly to Tywin and Selwyn before
returning to the floor. Surely Selwyn japes. Why is no one laughing.

“I don’t understand.”

Selwyn sighed and told Jaime of what everyone else in the room already knew. Jaime watched as
everyone continued to avoid his gaze. Even Sansa looked guilty at the knowledge. Jaime’s mind
was abuzz with the information; none of his thoughts particularly good.

Shaking his head at the words, Jaime looked to Brienne. “No. No, I won’t see her on that fucking
throne. It only brings problems. She’ll be targeted and…”

Tywin interrupted Jaime in a tone that brokered no argument. “Enough, Jaime. We won’t think on
this now. Lets see her awake first. Ensure sure recovers well. That is most important.”

Jaime looked back to Brienne. A bitter laugh bubbled inside his throat as words from a year prior
came back to him. ‘It’s a long way to King’s Landing. Might as well get to know one another.’
Well wench, this would have been something of note to share.

The room splintered off into separate conversations. Only Selwyn remained silent across from him
on the other side of Brienne’s bed. Jaime stared at Brienne’s face and worried over the implication
of his father knowing of Brienne’s lineage.

Selwyn’s voice drifted across the bed to him. “She wouldn’t have kept it from you maliciously.
Her entire life she has been conditioned to hide her identity. Her life and mine depended on it. You
know how Robert was.”

Jaime nodded numbly from his seat. Glancing to his father and seeing him in conversation with
Genna, Jaime looked back to Selwyn and spoke in hushed tones. “No good has come to anyone
sitting on the bloody seat.”

Selwyn nodded in agreement. “I know.”

As the attendants came in to remove the trays, one of the younger women dropped an empty jug of
wine. The loud clang echoed off the walls of the room and Genna rubbed her forehead. “By the
Gods! As if my headache couldn’t get worse.”

A slight groan pushed past Brienne’s lips and Jaime’s head snapped to her. “Brienne?”

Genna waved at Jaime dismissively. “No. That was me, child.”

Shaking his head, Jaime kept his eyes on Brienne. “No, it was Brienne.”

Brienne’s head began to turn from side to side as her eyes clenched tightly. She muttered
something unintelligible and Jaime moved to sit on the edge of the bed. Moving his left hand to her
cheek, Jaime looked to her. “Brienne, can you hear me? Can you open your eyes?”

“Jaime.”

His name from her lips was the sweetest sound he had ever heard. Please Gods, let her vision be
alright.

Her eyes fluttered open and adjusted to the light in the room. Jaime could sense everyone move
closer to the bed and stare down expectantly.

“What is everyone looking at?”

A wide smile pulled at Jaime’s lips as he heard collective sighs of relief behind him. “You can see
alright?” At his question, Brienne turned to him and nodded. “Yes, of course.”

Jaime lowered his forehead to hers and sent a prayer of thanks to every god he knew of; old and
new. “I was so scared, Brienne. How do you feel?”

“My head hurts quite a lot.”

Jaime chuckled; a deep rumble from his core. “Not as much as the Mountain’s. I can’t believe it
Brienne. You’re amazing.”

A warm hand touched Jaime’s back as Genna leaned over his shoulder. “Thank the Gods you’re
well, child. Do you want more poppy?”

“No, thank you. Could I have a little water though?”

Before Genna could retreat to find water, Sansa came over quickly with a cup in hand. “Here,
Brienne. Drink this.” The young wolf smiled warmly at Brienne. Then her lips curled into a sly
smile as she glanced back at Tywin briefly before turning back to Brienne. “My mother was very
lucky to have you as her sworn sword. Mayhap if she found you sooner, Robb would be on the
throne.”

Jaime snorted at the words and looked to Brienne. Her forehead and jaw were already bruised and
swollen from where the Mountain had headbutted and punched her. Jaime imagined it was likely
she had a nasty bump at the back of her head from where she hit the ground.

In the background, Jaime could hear Tywin barking orders from the doorway. He moved beside
Selwyn and spoke to Brienne; a hand on Brienne’s forearm. “I’m glad to see your vision is fine.
Thank you for saving my son. We’ll leave you to rest now. I’ve asked the staff to bring up food for
you.”

Tyrion turned to the group and commanded them. “Tyrion, Sansa, Genna… lets give Brienne her
rest. We can visit later.”

Jaime loved his aunt and brother but was eager to see them leave. Brienne needed rest and all
Jaime wanted to do was curl up next to her. Once the rest of the Lannisters left the room, Selwyn
stood and looked down warmly at Brienne.

“I’m very proud of you. Now never do that again. I’m too old for this shit.” Brienne chuckled
weakly as her father bent down to place a kiss to her head. “Get some rest. Don’t let this fool talk
your ear off. I’ve yet to get recover my strength after our last talk.”

A teasing smile spread across Selwyn’s face as he clapped Jaime on the shoulder. With the room
now clear, Jaime climbed into bed next to Brienne and wrapped his arms around her. “My
champion. I was so scared, Brienne. I thought…”

Jaime shut his eyes and rested his head against her temple. Images of the Mountain’s hands around
her throat and his thumbs moving to her eyes flashed before him. That sight would haunt his
dreams for the rest of his days. Unable to finish the sentence, Jaime instead focused on how alive
she was; warm and safe under his touch.

“I told you that I wouldn’t lose. I told you to trust me.”

Jaime ran his hand through her hair and stroked her cheek. “I trust you.” They laid silently for some
time. Jaime couldn’t take his eyes off her face. Even with the bruising and swelling, she was
beautiful. Westeros would never deem her a beauty, but to Jaime, no one could rival her.

“Brienne?”

Her head turned towards him. In that moment, her eyes had never seemed bluer. “Yes?”

“Your father told of your lineage. Is it true?” He watched as Brienne quickly looked back to the
ceiling. She sighed heavily and Jaime watched her throat bob as she swallowed.

“Yes, your father raised it this week. I don’t know how he knew. I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you. I
didn’t want to overwhelm you with everything else going on.”

Jaime snorted. “Overwhelm me? I wasn’t the one facing the Mountain.”

Brienne shrugged, but still didn’t look at him. “Tyrion said you father wouldn’t tell anyone.”
“I suppose it depends which option suits his interests more. You or Tommen on the throne.”

Jaime leaned up on his right elbow to look at her. The discomfort on her face was obvious. “I don’t
want it. I never have.”

“You don’t need to be Westeros’ queen. Just mine will be sufficient.” Jaime’s voice was teasing,
but inwardly he wanted her to know the truth of it. He feared for her if the crown was forced on
her. Brienne was a fighter and like him, cared little for political schemes. That was more his
father’s and brother’s skill.

“Don’t think on it. Get some rest. I’ll be right here when you wake.” Jaime moved closer and held
her tightly as Brienne drifted back to sleep. He didn’t know how much time passed, but a light
knock at the door jolted him. Jaime had been nodding off for a bit as he listened to Brienne’s
steady breathing.

The door opened to reveal Tyrion and Sansa who snuck in quietly. It was evident that Tywin didn’t
know they were coming for a visit. Tyrion crept to the bed and peered at Brienne. “Is she sleeping
again?”

Jaime nodded, but his movement must have alerted Brienne. Her eyes flew open and she surveyed
the room, seeing Sansa and Tyrion at the foot of the bed.

Tyrion raised his hand apologetically. “Sorry. We just wanted to see you before father got to you.
It’s about the throne.

Jaime groaned inwardly and glanced at Brienne. “Gods, Tyrion. You might be worse than father.
She just fought and survived the Mountain. She is recovering and…”

“It’s fine.” Brienne’s voice was small, and she tried to sit up in the bed. The movement must have
been too much as she grabbed her forehead and grimaced.

“Easy, Brienne.” Jaime moved to help her into a seated position and placed pillows at her back.
Leaning in for her ear only, Jaime implored her. “You don’t need to have this talk now. I can make
them leave.”

Brienne shook her head in refusal and forced a smile to Tyrion. “What is it?”

“It’s my fault that he knows. I want to be honest with you always. He knew of your father’s lineage
at Selwyn’s admitting, but he made me get the rest from you. I swear I only did it to help!”

Jaime felt his blood boil at Tyrin’s confession. “How could you!? You know what he’ll do with
this information!”

Tyrion scoffed. “I know. I wasn’t going to do what he asked. He even offered me the Rock to get
him the information! Well… in every way but name. I only agreed because I think it is the only
way to keep Brienne safe.”

Brienne and Jaime shared a confused look before turning back to Tyrion. “What do you mean?
How would that keep me safe? I’ve been avoiding the truth my entire life to stay safe. To keep my
father and island safe.”

Tyrion sucked in a deep breath and looked to Sansa. “My father made one good point. So long as
Tommen is on the throne, Cersei holds power. You know that Tommen won’t let his own mother
be executed. As angry as father is now, I doubt he would ever see her killed too. He’ll likely send
over off to the Silent Sisters or use her to form a political alliance with a lord in need of a wife. It
gives her too much of an opportunity to get to you. With you as queen, we can see her executed.
If… that’s what you want…” Tyrion glanced awkwardly at Jaime as if expecting him to protest.

Jaime snorted. “Of course we want her dead! She wants me dead. She wants Brienne dead. She
tried to see her killed at the hands of the Mountain just earlier today!”

With the nod of his head, Tyrion looked back to Brienne. “With you on the throne, you can ensure
she meets the Stranger. Selfishly, it also helps Sansa and me. I doubt Sansa wants to stay in this
forced marriage. You can destroy the Boltons at little more than a command. You can see Sansa
returned to Winterfell safely and annul our marriage. You’ll have all the resources you need to find
Arya!”

Tyrion’s tone became more frantic as he spoke and Jaime considered his words. It makes sense, but
then what? What when Brienne has completed our vow to Catelyn Stark? Surely, she won’t want to
remain in such a position that requires her to deal with the political schemes? That isn’t Brienne.

Tyrion sighed and ran a hand through his bushy hair. “Father wants to be Hand, but I was thinking
that I could be. I’ll stay here and help you. I quite enjoy politics whereas you both hate it. You can
do whatever knightly shit you wish to do. I can deal with the political schemes and ensure your
crown is safe.”

Brienne’s brows furrowed in contemplation and she looked to Sansa. “Would this make you
happy? If we can see you returned home once the Boltons are removed and the North secured?”

With a small smile, Sansa looked to Tyrion and nodded. “I want to go home. I want to see my sister
if she still lives. Jon is at the Wall. If it isn’t too much trouble, could you give him a dismissal from
the Night’s Watch? I figure if the crown can remove Ser Jaime from the Kingsguard, mayhap the
crown can remove Jon from the Night’s Watch.”

Brienne smiled warmly at the girl. “Of course. I’ll see it done then. If Tywin asks, I’ll take the
stupid crown, but only if Tyrion helps. I don’t have the mind for politics.”

Jaime sucked in a deep breath and grabbed her hand. He didn’t like the idea, but Tyrion and Sansa
had fair points. Brienne could do good in the position and it would ensure Cersei’s end.

Looking to Brienne he forced a supportive smile. He offered a small shrug and teased. “At least
this time, no one will mind that I’m fucking the queen.”

Brienne rolled her eyes and sighed which only served to elicit a chuckle from Jaime. “What? Too
soon for incest japes? I mean… you’re the Targaryen.”
 Two Conditions
Chapter Summary

Tywin has a question for Brienne, but is surprised by the response he gets

“So, what are your conditions?” Tywin eyed Brienne suspiciously from behind the desk in his
study. He had been meeting with Selwyn, Genna, and Tyrion beforehand to try and sway Brienne’s
father to his position.

While he made some progress, Selwyn still held firm in his belief that naming Brienne queen was
not in her best interest. Tyrion had made some surprisingly sound arguments to the contrary and
Tywin found himself humming in agreement often. Eventually, the older lord declared that he
would support whatever Brienne decided.

Tywin summoned for Brienne and mentally ran through various approaches before she entered. He
expected significant push back and needed to be armed with compelling reasons to sway her. The
girl struck him as stubborn as her father. Like their physical stature, the Tarths seems unmovable
once they decide upon something.

To Tywin’s surprise, Brienne had conceded quickly to Tywin’s request that she take the crown. For
his part, Selwyn looked as shocked as Tywin felt. It made Tywin leery of what her conditions
were. Judging from the posture that Brienne and Jaime took, it was evident that they discussed this
before entering. They had the upper hand.

Brienne’s eyes darted briefly to Tyrion. “The first condition is that Tyrion will be named my
Hand.”

Tywin snorted at the request. I see how they’re going to play this. The three have already discussed
matters. This will be interesting.

With a brow raised in challenge, Tywin smirked at Brienne. “I was to give Tyrion the Rock and
play Hand here. What would you see done with the Rock then?”

“Are you not capable of leading your house, my Lord?” There was an undertone of amusement in
Brienne’s tone that Tywin found applaudable.

Nodding his head, Tywin glanced to Tyrion before looking back to Brienne. “I have been Hand to
two kings now. You need someone who can maneuver the political landscape and keep you alive.”

A strange look flashed across Brienne’s face before she spoke. “Respectfully my Lord, I would
remind you that both kings you served met the stranger before you. I don’t know that there is a
correlation between being a strong political player and keeping your king or queen alive.”

Jaime snorted at Brienne’s side and began to chuckle before meeting Tywin’s glare. His mirth died
quickly, and he bit his lip in attempt to muffle any additional laughter.

Tywin straightened in his chair and felt his chest tighten with anger. With an incredulous
expression, his eyes flitted to Selwyn and Tywin’s unspoken words were easy for all in the room to
understand. Truly, you let your daughter speak this way?
Selwyn chuckled and shrugged. “You think I can control her? I’d have been luck commanding the
weather. Besides… she’s not wrong.”

It was a vexing situation to not be able to respond to one of his children as he typically would.
Appraising Brienne, Tywin took a deep breath and clenched his fist where it rested on the table.
“What is most important to me is that you have a strong political advisor here because…”

Brienne quickly cut Tywin off as she spoke confidently. “Neither Jaime nor I have the mind for it.
Yes, we realize. Quite frankly it is one of the many reasons that I don’t wish to be queen. I prefer
to fight my enemies with a sword rather than words.”

Tywin leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. A challenging brow raised as he looked to
Tyrion. “I’ll play along. Lets see how skilled you are, Tyrion. How would you build your small
council?”

Without missing a beat, Tyrion spoke commandingly. “With a mix of trusted advisors and political
alliances in need of keeping watch over. For example, the Reach. With Margaery no longer able to
gain the crown, the Reach will want something in return for their loyalty. I would give Lady
Olenna a seat on the council to keep her occupied and monitored. I would see Tommen named
Lord of Storm’s End and given Margaery as bride.”

Tyrion looked to Selwyn and continued. “Lord Tarth is a most respected vassal in the Stormlands.
From what I hear, the other vassals would follow his lead. If he agrees to back Tommen’s claim, I
believe the rest of the Stormlands would follow. The Stormlands would benefit as I would remove
the Arryns as Warden of the East and name Tommen as Warden. This would appease Olenna, as
she will believe herself to have sway in two major holdings. She would see her kin acting as two of
the four wardens.”

At Tyrion’s words, Selwyn nodded. “Unlike Joffrey, I’ve only heard good things of Tommen.
From what little I’ve seen of him here, he seems a decent lad albeit young and inexperienced. I
would back him and help him learn the how to manage the Stormlands vassals. They can be a
prickly bunch. It will help me keep an eye on the Tyrell girl too. Make certain she is acting with the
Stormlands best interests rather than her grandmother’s.”

Tywin appraised Tyrion and nodded. Good boy. Very smart.

“Alright, Tyrion. What else?”

With a deep breath, Tyrion spoke again. “Dorne. You had the right of it in keeping Oberyn close.
The betrothal of Princess Myrcella to Prince Tyrstane will keep ties strong but offering him a
permanent place in council will further our alliance. Between Oberyn and Prince Doran, Oberyn is
the aggressor of the two. Without Oberyn in his brother’s ear in a kingdom where we have few
spies, it will be easier to monitor Dorne. Prince Doran is much more reasonable without the Viper
hovering over him. Less prone to rash decisions and violence.”

Tywin scanned the room and assessed the reactions of the others. Like him, they seemed
impressed with Tyrion’s rationale. “Very well. Tyrion will make a fine Hand. I will return to the
Rock once everything is settled here.”

Genna guffawed and her tone took on a teasing lilt. “So I’m to be the one punished in this all?”

“I rather think you would make an excellent Master of Coin.” Tyrion’s words caught Genna by
surprise, but before she could question him, Tyrion continued. “As I said, we need a mix of trusted
advisors and political alliances. You’re strategic and intelligent. You’ve been managing the Rock
for years and the kingdom has thrived. It also seems that Olenna and you would get on quite well. I
think keeping an eye on her would be a most useful project for you… when you’re not handling the
crown’s coin.”

“And you’re my favorite of grandfather’s children.” Jaime’s voice held a challenging tone as he
raised a brow at his father. A loud guffaw pushed past Genna’s lips.

Gods, my son is an annoying shit.

Returning Jaime’s raised brow, Tywin barked back. “Good. I won’t have anyone to bother me at
the Rock. So, gooddaughter, what is your second condition.”

Judging by the look on Brienne’s face, this condition had not previously been shared with the
brothers. They looked at her with knitted brows and a slight confusion in their eyes.

“Any children that Jaime and I have will be well provided for and have ample inheritance. The
firstborn, regardless of sex, will inherit the crown. The second, also regardless of sex, will inherit
Tarth. I would see my goodbrother’s children rewarded for his effort in keeping the kingdom
running. I want his firstborn to inherit the Rock.”

Tyrion’s jaw dropped at Brienne’s request. This was not what Tywin had in mind. He had expected
that Jaime and Brienne’s second son inherit the Rock.

Tywin stroked his jaw in consideration. He appraised Tyrion and sighed heavily. “Very well, but I
have a condition of my own. I will honor this so long as you do not abdicate. If you abdicate, I will
name Jaime heir to the Rock with his firstborn to follow. Your second born would then go to
Tarth.”

Brienne looked to her father who nodded in agreement. It was a likely scenario regardless with
Brienne marrying into a Great House. Looking back to Tywin, Brienne responded with an
affirmative nod. “Agreed.”

Turning his attention to Selwyn, Tywin spoke questioningly. “Does your castellan know the
location of that sealed scroll from Jaehaerys? It will help ease the transition and gain support of the
existing council if we produce the document.”

“No. Only myself and Brienne know of its location. I’ll need to retrieve it myself. The journey
should see me back within three to four days.”

Tywin nodded in understanding. “Very well. I’ll inform the council and Tommen will abdicate.
We’ll have the coronation when you return. We’ll read it before the court to ensure enough
witnesses to this truth. This is a public matter now.”

Everyone nodded as Tywin observed Selwyn looking warily to Brienne. He understood the man’s
trepidation. Robert spent his entire reign tracking down and murdering anyone with Targaryen
blood. Before him, Aerys was a madman who certainly would have seen Brienne killed off.

Those men were gone now, and Tywin would see to it that Brienne’s security was prioritized.

“We’ll surround Brienne with our best guards into addition to the Kingsguard. I’ll send the West’s
top commanders to protect her. Jaime knows the Kingsguard members well and can recommend
new additions while removing anyone who may be corrupt.”

Selwyn nodded and again looked to Brienne. “I’ll leave Ser Endrew behind. He is our best and
fiercely loyal.”
“No! He is your Master-At-Arms. You need him on Tarth.”

“Not as much as you need him here! I’ll find another. Endrew has a few men he speaks highly of
who can take on the role.”

Jaime met Tywin’s eyes and spoke authoritatively. “I want Addam here. He’s our best and I trust
him implicitly.”

Offering a conciliatory nod, Tywin reassured Jaime that he would see it done. “I’ll write to Addam
to move his men from the Riverlands. They’ll come here for the coronation and Addam will stay
behind to protect the crown.”

With an amused lilt in his voice, Tywin glanced between Jaime and Brienne. “Will the crown be
requiring anything else?”

Brienne’s eyes flitted to Selwyn and a smirk tugged at her lips. Before she could move to speak
Selwyn shook his head aggressively and chuckled. “No! It isn’t happening girl.”

“If I’m to be queen, I could very well command it.”

“You will not!” Selwyn’s tone was a playful indignation.

“Is that a challenge?”

Selwyn grunted and crossed his arms like a petulant child. “Surely they have cooks here!”

“Not like Alice.”

“Do not make me declare open war against the crown!”

“Do not make me send the might of the kingdoms against my homeland.”

With a loud guffaw, Selwyn threw up his hands in the air. “I saw you shove a sword straight
through a man’s skull. I hardly need you sending an army to convince me to comply. I’ll bring
Alice when I return.”

A wide smile spread across Brienne’s face. “Thank you.”

Selwyn huffed a laugh. “A bit ridiculous of a journey to break my fast each morning, but I suppose
her grace commands as much.”

Tywin watched as Jaime leaned into Brienne and whispered. “Are you arguing over a cook?”

Brienne smiled slightly and met his eyes. “You can thank me later.”

Clearing his throat, Tywin regained the attention of the room. “Now that the details are settled, I
would ask for a moment with my children.” Genna and Selwyn stood from their seats and made
their way to the door. As Brienne proceeded to following them, Tywin bellowed out.

“I asked for my children to stay. Not just my sons.” Brienne looked back in surprise as Tywin
raised a brow at her. “Come now daughter, I don’t bite.” Jaime snorted and looked back at her. “He
only barks.”

Insolent shit. Truly, how was he previously my favorite? I grow to enjoy Tyrion more by the
minute.
As they all took a seat across the desk from him, Tywin took a deep breath and tapped the desk
with his finger. “We must discuss Cersei.”

Jaime shrugged and responded quickly. “What is there to discuss? She will be tried, found guilty,
and executed.”

Yes, Tywin had enough of Cersei too. Her evil was evident but having to give the command to see
her life end was easier said than done.

“We could send her to the Silent Sisters.” At Tywin’s words, Tyrion shot a look to Jaime and
Brienne that again betrayed their having already spoken on the matter.

Tyrion looked back at Tywin and sighed. “I understand that this is not easy for you. I’ll admit that
you’ve already done more to punish her than I expected, but she cannot live if we’re to keep
Brienne safe. You know that Cersei will try to have her killed. She will not rest until it is done.
What then of this legacy you seek?”

Tywin knew the truth of the words. Cersei was a hateful woman. He had not realized the extent of
it until recently, but he always saw flickers of it.

“I cannot sit on this trial, but I will not stop you.”

Tyrion nodded in understanding. “We’ll hold the trial after the coronation to ensure that neither
you nor Tommen need to partake. It would also turn Tommen against us. We’ll need to appear
impartial.”

Tywin nodded. “I will inform Tommen and the council of what is to happen with his crown. Then
we inform your sister. I need her to be aware before she has her trial and sees Brienne sitting on the
throne. I will not see her throw a fit in front of the entire court if she is blindsided. Even if she must
die, I will see her dignity intact. She is a Lannister.”

All three nodded and Brienne glanced to Jaime. She had a concerned look on her face, but Jaime
appeared resolute. “Are you certain, Jaime? She is your twin and… important to you.”

Jaime shook his head. “I am more than certain. I will not risk her hurting you in any way. This ends
now.”

Later that day, Tywin informed the council members and Tommen of Brienne’s lineage. The
implications were obvious to all and Tommen seemed relieved by the news. Varys seemed the
most shocked, but surprisingly pleased. Tywin knew the man could not be trusted, but he was
another who should be kept close. Pulling Tyrion aside after, he told him as much.

“Ah yes, the Spider. I had planned to keep him on the council as well. One can never have too
many ears; particularly a man such as Varys who is best to keep close. We have an understanding
with one another.”

That afternoon, Tywin retrieved Jaime and Tyrion to make their way to the cells. Let her get the
rage out now rather than make a fool of herself before the court.

They stood before the cell door and Tywin took a steadying breath. He moved into the room
flanked by Jaime and Tyrion. A united front, they faced a deranged looking Cersei.

She looked as though she had torn out chunks of her hair in a fit. Her dress was filthy and what
little items had been in the room were turned over including the bed. She sat in the corner and
looked to them with disdain writ across her face.
Cersei sneered from her spot on the floor. “Well how touching. Tywin and his failure sons.”

“Between the three of you, I would hardly call them the failures.”

Rage clouded Cersei’s face as she screamed back at him. “I am queen!”

“You were queen, for a time.”

At Tywin’s words, Cersei flinched. Her face paled slightly as she stood shakily. “What did you
say?”

“You were queen. Tommen sits on the throne… for now.”

Cersei’s brows furrowed at the words. “For now?” Her eyes looked between the men standing
before her.

“Tommen will abdicate the throne to the rightful heir. He will be named Lord of Storm’s End and
marry Margaery Tyrell as planned.”

“Rightful heir? What the fuck are you on about?”

“As luck would have it, my new gooddaughter is heir to the Iron Throne. The legitimate grandchild
of Prince Duncan Targaryen and Lady Jenny. We have written acknowledgement in a missive
penned by Jaehaerys Targaryen himself. His son was never meant to sit on the throne. Brienne’s
mother was.”

Jaime sneered at Tywin’s side and looked to Cersei. “Well sister, it seems that I’ll finally get to
play Consort to the queen.”

Cersei leapt from her position on the floor and charged towards Jaime. She muttered something
unintelligible as her hands raised to thrash at him, but Tywin moved to grab her arms. “You will
conduct yourself properly! Keep your hands off your brother! You are a Lannister and you will act
with dignity!”

“I am a Baratheon! A Baratheon won the crown! Targaryen lines mean nothing! I rid myself of
your house’s filth when you sold me off like a broodmare!”

Tywin took a menacing step forward as he released Cersei’s hands and glared at her. “When you
next see your goodsister, she will have crown atop her head. You will not forget yourself in trial.
Kneel to your queen and behave. You are being given this information now so that have time to
collect yourself and act appropriately in court.”
 First of Her Name
Chapter Summary

Brienne's coronation day arrives.

“What is this? Why have I never eaten this before? What else is Tarth holding out on?” Jaime’s
words were garbled as he noshed on the forkful of food he had shoved into his mouth. He stared in
awe at the plate as though it was a new valyrian steel sword.

Brienne snorted and shook her head. “I told you could thank me later. Now would be the time.”

With an exaggerated sigh, Selwyn grumbled and narrowed his eyes at Brienne. “I hope you’re
pleased. I’m out our best cook.” The group from Tarth had returned the afternoon prior and Alice
immediately set to work taking over the kitchen staff.

She was a kind, matronly woman who had worked in Tarth’s kitchens for near thirty years. Her
children were grown and married off, giving Alice freedom to move with her husband to the Red
Keep. Her husband, Cerwin, had been given a job in the stables while Alice could cook to her
heart’s content.

It was the morning of Brienne’s coronation and she opted to eat on the balcony with Selwyn and
Jaime. The cool morning breeze kissed her skin and reminded her of Tarth. For a moment, she
could forget what was to come and focus on good food and a sea breeze that reminded her of home.

Tyrion had been a constant in and out of their room over the past few days. He was already eagerly
planning several items of interest to concentrate on for after the coronation. For once, he had given
them space in the morning to enjoy a warm meal and relax before the chaos of the day.

A knock at the door came and one of the attendants opened it to reveal Tywin. He strode in
confidently and took a seat at the table. “There she is. Our soon to be Lannister queen!”

Gods, this man has a one-track mind. What next? A status on that heir?

“…and I’m confident that before I leave the capital, we’ll have word of that first heir! Who
knows… maybe some more Tarth Triplets even!”

There it is.

Brienne looked to Jaime and snickered. Much to Brienne’s dismay, he was far too focused on his
meal to enjoy the absurdity of the moment with her. A look of confusion flitted across Tywin’s
face as he observed what Jaime was eating. Jaime shoveled the food into his mouth like a man
starved from a year in the black cells.

“What is that?”

Selwyn’s chest swelled with pride. “A Tarth specialty! Alice makes it at least three times a week.
A good hearty meal to start the day.” Patting his stomach as he leaned back, Selwyn smirked. “I
suppose I’ll finally be losing this then.”
Tywin grabbed a fork and moved to take a piece from Jaime’s plate. A feral look consumed
Jaime’s features as he snatched the plate away protectively. “No! You want those heirs… don’t
touch my food.”

With a huff of exasperation, Brienne slid her plate towards Tywin. She could never finish this
particular dish. It was incredibly filling albeit sinfully good. It was a thick cut of homemade sweet
bread dipped and coked in some kind of egg mixture that Brienne could never figure out. It was
coated in some type of sweet syrup with mounds of fruit on top.

Scoffing at Jaime, Tywin took a forkful from Brienne and gave her an appreciative nod. “Now
about today…”

Tywin interrupted himself as his taste buds took in the food he had begun chewing on. “Gods!
What is that!?”

Chuckling lightly, Brienne pushed the plate closer to Tywin indicating he could have the rest. “Go
on then.” She watched as he eagerly accepted it the plate and hummed in appreciation. Whatever
keeps him quiet about the bloody coronation.

Seemingly forgetting his original reason for joining them, Tywin looked between Brienne and
Selwyn. “Is this normal? To Tarth that is?”

Both nodded in confirmation before Selwyn spoke. “Many households make it, but Alice’s version
is the best. The only thing more satisfying is a nice glass of brandy.”

The Lannister men stopped eating and looked to Selwyn; both speaking at the same time as food
stuffed their mouths. “The what?”

Selwyn’s jaw went slack at the question. “You’ve never had brandy? I thought you people were
well off! You can only get it from across the Narrow Sea, but given the trade routes, it makes its
way to Tarth easy enough.”

Jaime continued to study Selwyn as he considered the words. “What is it then?”

With a huff of laughter, Selwyn produced the small flask containing the liquid. Brienne rolled her
eyes and reprimanded him. “Truly, father!? We’ve only just broken our fast. It’s far too early for
that.”

Selwyn scoffed and shook his head. “Nonsense! Never too early! It’s practically supper time in the
Dothraki Sea, girl! Besides, today my baby girl is to be coronated after her lineage is revealed for
the entire fucking court to hear. I’m definitely going to start drinking now.”

Passing the flask to Jaime, Brienne watched as he smelled the liquid. His nose scrunched at the
smell alone.

I never liked that shit. I simply don’t see the appeal.

Taking a sip, Jaime immediately began to cough as the liquid hit the back of his throat. Selwyn
guffawed and clapped his shoulder. “There you go, boy! That will put some hair on your chest.”

Shaking his head, Jaime considered the after taste. “Once your throat scabs over, it’s actually quite
nice.”

Tywin reached over and took the flask from Jaime. He followed the same process; first smelling
the liquid and then taking a swig. Unlike Jaime who choked down the first sip, Tywin’s eyes went
wide. “You have much of this on Tarth?”

“Of course! I keep it by the barrel in our cellars.”

Tywin smirked and nodded his head. “I think that I might need to visit Tarth. To discuss trade of
course. Best to have such conversations in person.”

There was something very unsettling about the thought of her father and goodfather spending time
together on Tarth. In only the most Tywin and Selwyn way possible, they were becoming slightly
too fond of one another for Brienne’s liking.

Jaime’s ears perked up at his father’s words; his eyes wide with excitement. “That sounds like
something a consort is meant to participate in.”

Selwyn barked a laugh and nodded at Jaime. “Of course it is! Brienne will be fine here seeing to
her other duties… and enjoying Alice’s cooking.” A challenging smile tugged at Selwyn’s lips as
he looked to Brienne.

Ah, so that’s it then. My punishment for stealing Alice. The three of you dolts will have a lovely
little holiday while I’m stuck here listening to Tyrion prattle on about political alliances and land
disputes.

“Oh I can bring Alice! It’s only right she get a break to see her new grandbabe.”

At Jaime’s words and sly smile, Brienne glared and sent an unspoken message. I will knock you to
the dirt when we hit the yards on the morrow.

A knock at the door caught Brienne’s attention. The attendant moved to answer it again, this time
revealing Genna and Sansa. “I knew it! Out with you boys! We have a queen to prepare.”

Brienne’s brows furrowed slightly at the words. “Prepare? It shouldn’t take long to put on my
sword belt. I’m already dressed.”

Genna looked to Brienne in horror and huffed indignantly. Moving inside, she instructed Sansa to
place the items on the bed. Oh Gods. That better not be a dress.

The men stood from their seats at Genna’s command, but Brienne had to bite back a laugh as she
watched the Lannister men move out of the room with their plates cradled close to the chest. Once
the door closed behind them, Genna and Sansa began spreading out the items they had carried in.

Sansa beamed at Brienne; her back straightened and chest puffed out proudly. “I hope you don’t
mind. I made this for you.”

Brienne move close and appraised the garments. Thankfully, it was not a dress. There were dark
grey breeches that looked to be well fitted. Like the rose-colored field of Tarth’s sigil, a tunic of
that color was to be worn under a deep blue jerkin. The jerkin was different than most Brienne had
seen before. Like the tunic, it had more of a woman’s cut to it.

The neckline was much lower with a softer lapel and the length of the jerkin looked as though it
would fall closer to midthigh. The jerkin, like the pants, looked much more tightly fitted. The
breast of the tunic had a silver lion under crescent moons.

Brienne smile widely at Sansa as she appraised the young woman’s work. “It’s perfect. Thank
you!”
Urging Brienne behind the privacy screen to change, Brienne made quick work of the garments.
As the outfit appeared, it was very form fitting and showed off the subtle curves of Brienne’s body.
The tunic added just enough of Tarth’s rose under the jerkin to match the flush of Brienne’s cheeks
and the jerkin also fell flatteringly.

Genna had brought a more feminine pair of black boots than Brienne usually wore but given how
good she felt in what Sansa made, Brienne hardly cared. Strapping Oathkeeper to her waist,
Brienne smiled warmly at the women who gushed over how becoming the outfit was.

Smoothing out the fabric on Brienne’s shoulders, Genna nodded approvingly. “You certainly look
the part. Now… that hair.”

My hair?

Genna pushed Brienne into a seat and parted Brienne’s hair at the right rather than the center.
Taking some kind of lotion, Genna ran it through Brienne’s blonde locks and brushed her hair
across her forehead to the other side of her face so that it fell angled near her cheek.

“This will better keep it in place. You usually have it pushed back so aggressively. This makes you
look a touch softer. Now, the crown. Let see how it looks before giving it to the Septon.”

Sansa moved forward and produced a custom crown. Looking to Brienne, the girl smiled warmly
again. “I hope you don’t mind, but I thought it should speak to you and not just be a plain design
with gems.”

It was a silver crown with a center sun. The sun’s rays wove around to the sides of the crown.
Woven into the sun’s rays were a small three-headed dragon to the left and a small roaring lion to
the right. A perfect nod to her lineage and House by marriage.

As they placed it atop Brienne’s head, both women stood back to marvel at her. “Well, stand up.
Let us see you then.”

Doing as Genna bid, Brienne raised herself to full height and watched as wide smiles spread across
their faces. “Perfect! Alright. Lets get down to the throne room.”

They escorted her to the doors just outside the throne room. Jaime and the Kingsguard were there
waiting for her as they would take her down the long aisle. Jaime’s eyes went wide at the sight of
her. A wide smile spread across his face as he looked her up and down. Genna snorted and tugged
Sansa inside to take their places.

Jaime pulled Brienne close and kissed her lips gently. “To be clear… I’m quite interested.” When
the doors opened, Jaime grabbed Brienne’s left hand and tucked it into his left arm. The room was
overcrowded with the full court clamoring to see the new queen.

The ceremony was mercifully short. Brienne hated being the center of attention and was eager to
see it done with. Tommen abdicated as Jaehaerys seal was broken after being confirmed by the
current small council members. They read his words aloud to the surprise of the court.

After Tommen abdicated, Brienne was officially coronated. A Septon lead the ceremony with the
blessings of the seven being recited. The full hall was dimly lit by candle. In the front row on the
right, Selwyn and Ser Endrew stood with pride as they watched on.

The Kingsguard stood at her back while Jaime stood off to her right. He smiled mischievously as
the Septon’s arms shook from holding the crown over Brienne’s head for so long. Fortunately, his
arms could reach the top of her head, but the man was practically on his toes to do so.
Tywin, Genna, Tryion, and Sansa stood in the front row across the aisle from Selywn and Ser
Endrew. Just a row behind them were the Tyrells, Oberyn, and other key dignitaries. As the Septon
got to the formal proclamation of her status, Tywin’s chest swelled at the announcement of her
name.

“In the light of the Seven, I now proclaim Brienne of the House Lannister, born of House Tarth and
House Targaryen, first of her name, Queen of the Andals and the First Men, and Protector of the
Seven Kingdoms. Long may she reign.”

The Septon pushed the silver crown onto her head and stepped back slowly as the hall repeated his
words. “Long may she reign.” The crowd erupted into a chorus of deafening cheers. Brienne
wanted little more than to scurry back to her room and get out of the spotlight, but Jaime slowly
guided her back to sit on the Iron Throne.

“Not so fast, my Grace. Now you have to sit here and have everyone grovel at your feet one by
one.” Jaime smirked and stood at her side. As she moved to sit down, Jaime’s eyes ran over her
lasciviously.

Brienne snorted as he stood formally at her side. One by one, the members court came up to bow
and pledge their fealty. To pass the time at the tedious nature of the task, Jaime opted to whisper
absurd, and likely untrue, facts of everyone who was soon to approach the throne. It was entirely
distracting and improper; often leading to a painful attempt to bite back a laugh.

Tywin hosted a large feast for the family and small council once the throne room cleared out. The
atmosphere was light and enjoyable given the notable absence of Cersei. Even Tywin seemed to be
enjoying himself.

“Ha! Look at her! My daughter. Queen Brienne Lannister of Tarth! Don’t mind my dolt son
mooning over her. He’ll make a nice decorative piece during formal ceremonies.”

As the evening dragged on and the guests grew rowdier, Jaime leaned into Brienne’s ear. “My
Queen Wench, have you seen the new room they put us in? We could have Alice setup a kitchen
right there, so we don’t even need to get out of bed to enjoy that delightful meal to start the day.”

Brienne rolled her eyes. She had yet to see the room, but from what Sansa said, it was
unnecessarily large. “If the room is as massive as Sansa says, we won’t even have to move to the
yards to spar.”

A mischievous smile tugged at Jaime’s lips. “Oh I most definitely planned on sparring in there.
With the meals Alice cooks, it will be important to maintain that training schedule.”

When eventually they made their way to the room, Brienne marveled at the size of it. The left-
hand wall held a large, four post bed. Each side of the bed had wooden end tables adorned with
fresh flowers.

A massive balcony stretched the length of the room on the opposite side from the doorway. A
small sitting area comprised the middle of the room complete with two chaise lounges and four
chairs. The far righthand side had a massive fireplace that the staff had stoked prior to their entry.

Jaime seemed to be on a mission to ‘spar’ on every surface of the room that night. When she took
in the state of the room the next day, Brienne was horrified and worried after what the staff might
think. Furniture was overturned. A few vases containing fresh flowers were broken. The curtains
were half torn from the wall.
A smug smile tugged at Jaime’s lips as Brienne appraised the damage; her face blushing
something fierce. Gods. What did we do?

Some weeks later, Jaime would claim that was the night Brienne fell pregnant with their first babe.
 A Mad Woman's Trial
Chapter Summary

Cersei's trial takes place.

It had been a week since Brienne’s coronation and already, much had happened. Two days
following the coronation, Tommen and Margaery wed and left for Storm’s End. Jaime was pleased
to see Tommen look so happy and relieved. The burden of the crown would have been too much
for the young boy and Jaime knew it.

Margaery seemed happy to take on the role of liege lady to the Stormlands and Warden of the East
at Tommen’s side. Still, Jaime worried if the Tyrells could truly be trusted. There was a degree of
comfort in Selwyn’s commitment to aid Tommen in his new position.

Selwyn had matters to attend to in Tarth, but he would journey to Storm’s End in a fortnight to help
Tommen summon and meet his vassals. Furthering Jaime’s comfort, Olenna genuinely seemed to
like the Tarths. She, like Jaime’s father, had taken to Lord Tarth instantly. Jaime had to concur.
Despite Selwyn’s intimidating size and booming voice, he was a likeable man.

Like Brienne, there was a degree of transparency with Selwyn that was unlike anyone else Jaime
knew. Rather than rule through political maneuvering, the Tarths ruled through action and
honestly. Both father and daughter were pigheaded, but fiercely loyal, honorable, just, and genuine.
Of course, given their physical stature and fighting prowess, no one bothered with them.

Always carry a dagger indeed. It’s a wonder pirates bother trying to attack their island. I would
steer clear from any activity raising Selwyn’s ire.

Jaime looked to Brienne’s sleeping form beside him. Her porcelain skin was dotted with a map of
the stars. There was nothing Jaime enjoyed more than tracing imaginary lines from freckle to
freckle to map out the constellations.

She was everything a queen should be, yet nothing Westeros had ever known before. Jaime felt an
immense pride swell in his chest when he introduced her to members of court for the first time. My
wife. My love. My queen.

Today was to be another long day. Cersei’s trial was to take place, and Jaime couldn’t help but
wonder at what nonsense would spew from his sister’s mouth. A light knock came at the door and
Jaime assumed it to be Tyrion.

Covering Brienne’s exposed shoulders, he moved out of the bed quietly and pulled on his
smallclothes and breeches. Jaime pulled open the door a crack to confirm his suspicions. A
flustered looking Tyrion stood outside the door with a glass of wine already in hand. Gods. I need
to speak with him of this. He’s turning into Cersei with his reliance on the bloody drink.

“Brother. Surely the trial isn’t starting yet?”

Pushing past him into the room, Tyrion muttered under his breath. “No. It’s my trial that has begun
at this hour.”
Jaime’s eyes flitted nervously to Brienne. Oh she will be rightly pissed if she awakes to Tyrion
drinking in our room while she lays naked in bed.

“Uh, do you think we can go to your room?”

Tyrion looked back at Jaime as though he sprouted another head. “Feel free. Good luck with
whatever gets thrown at your head in the process.”

Offering Tyrion a chair that had its back to the bed, Jaime sat opposite him to keep an eye on
Brienne. He wanted to watch for signs of her stirring that would necessitate Tyrion be ushered out
quickly.

“Trouble with your soon to be former wife? I’m certain Sansa had the right of it.”

Sighing heavily, Tyrion sipped the wine and slumped in the chair. “It’s Shae. She is furious at me.
Refuses to lay with me oft late. Says I’m spending far too much time with my wife.” The bitterness
in Tyrion’s tone was evident as he spat he words.

“Well you’ve told her the plans, haven’t you? Brienne will annul the marriage once the Boltons are
removed and the North secure.”

Jaime watched as his brother shrugged apathetically. “She thinks that I’ve purposely delayed this.
Shae believes that I’m only trying to find an excuse to keep her here longer. She claims now that
I’m Hand, I can do as I please and send the girl off. Gods, Jaime! It’s madness. She won’t see
reason.”

Leaning back on the chaise lounge, Jaime rubbed at his stubbled chin. “She’ll get over it soon
enough. This will all be behind you. Father will leave the city after Cersei’s trial and we’ll begin
work to see the Boltons dealt with. Shae just needs to be patient.”

“Easy for you to say! The entire castle can hear you enjoying your wife at night.”

At Tyrion’s outburst, Brienne stirred in bed and rubbed at her eyes. Sitting up slightly, her eyes
went wide in shock and Jaime offered an apologetic glance. Tyrion noted Jaime’s eyes and turned
to see what was going on behind him. Grabbing his brother’s shoulder, Jaime pulled his attention
back to him.

“Um, just face me unless you wish to see your head removed.”

Brienne glared at Jaime from the bed and desperately searched the floor for her smallclothes and
breeches. Biting back a laugh, Jaime watched as she helplessly tried to reach down to the floor
while clutching the silks to her chest. The distance was too far and Brienne lost balance; falling
unceremoniously to the floor.

The noise startled Tyrion who tried to look behind him once more. Again, Jaime caught his
brother’s shoulder and shook his head. “She’s fine. Her dour head broke the fall.”

A well-aimed boot to the head not a moment later served as punishment for his jape. As Brienne
quickly threw on her clothing, she walked towards them and narrowed her eyes at Tyrion.

“Goodbrother. How wonderful of you to visit before even the sun awakes. I so enjoy these early
visits.”

“Ah, our queen. Apologies for disturbing your sleep. I know how little you’ve been getting of late.”
A sly smile to Jaime was enough to earn Tyrion a swift kick to the shin from his big brother.
“Ignore him, wench. Our brother is distressed that his handmaiden won’t keep bedding him while
his wife sleeps peacefully in the bed mere feet away.”

Brienne looked aghast. “Tyrion!”

Tyrion scoffed in indignation. “I do not! I wait until Sansa leaves. Besides, she is quite upset with
me oft late and won’t lay with me until Sansa is out of the city. I’m to be celibate. If we run out of
wine, I may well offer myself up to the Stranger himself.”

Brienne sighed and sat next to Jaime. “You will do no such thing. Then we would be stuck with
your father as Hand.”

The thought made Jaime’s nose wrinkle in distaste. “Gods don’t even jape at that. I can’t imagine
having to deal with that every day.”

With a huff of laughter, Tyrion spoke sarcastically. “Yes, Gods forbid you do anything of
consequence, brother. All you do around here is make silly japes and bed your wife.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, but father’s orders were quite clear. Make heirs. I’m merely trying to do my duty to
the realm.”

Brienne rolled her eyes at the words. “I’m certain you’re meant to be doing much more than that!”

“You know that I’m not a good multitasker! That is entirely unfair to ask of me. I can only handle
one task at a time.”

Jaime had to admit. He was enjoying his role as consort much more than he had expected. He got
to spend the day trailing Brienne around making her laugh and scowl. Whenever he could, he
would pull her aside and try to work on said heirs. The only thing he enjoyed as much as bedding
Brienne was sparring her in the yards.

Addam and Endrew had grown fond of training with Brienne. She was better than both, but
Brienne enjoyed the different styles. Oberyn would join them from time to time as well.

Jaime envied the relationship that Brienne was building with the men. He was too embarrassed to
spar with her in the light of day, so they took to sparring at night when the yard was quiet. At
Tyrion’s suggestions, Jaime had also taken to training with Bronn; a sellsword who Tyrion brought
to the capital.

Bronn was what Jaime had expected when Tyrion shared background on how they met. His
fighting style was gritty and unrefined, but surprisingly effective. It would be quite some time
before Jaime could hold his own in battle, but between nightly spars with Brienne and daytime
training with Bronn at a secluded location, Jaime felt his confidence returning.

Pulling Jaime’s attention back to the room, Tyrion stood from his seat and drank the last of his
wine. He placed the cup down loudly on the table to the side and wiped his mouth with the back of
his arm. “Well, time to make myself presentable for our beloved sister. Hopefully I don’t take any
other errant objects to the head from a certain handmaiden when I return to my room. If I’m not in
the throne room in time for the trial, you know where to find my body.”

Jaime snorted and patted his brother’s shoulder “Soon, Tyrion. She’ll get over it.”

Some time later, Jaime walked Brienne towards the throne room. He japed the entire way, but he
could tell that Brienne’s mind was elsewhere. She still worried over how to handle Cersei. Like
Tywin, she was hesitant to see her executed.
Jaime knew that Tywin’s hesitation came on account of Cersei being his daughter. For her part,
Brienne worried that Jaime would come to regret the decision.

I will never regret anything that keeps Brienne safe. Cersei would have seen me and Brienne killed
without second thought. Why should I afford her added consideration?

Jaime and Tyrion took their seats to each side of Brienne. As Hand and Consort, they felt it
acceptable to serve as the additional jurors alongside Brienne, but Brienne felt it inappropriate.
“Truly, we should at least appear impartial.”

Tyrion scoffed. “If we’re to give out a death sentence, I doubt anyone would call our decision
biased. Surely if her own brothers would see her beheaded, how could another juror find her
deserving of anything else.”

Brienne rolled her eyes and looked to Jaime. With a slight shrug, he compromised. “If she
complains, you can name new jurors. Just don’t select my father. It was his only ask.”

The court grew silent as the doors opened to reveal a deranged looking Cersei being held at each
arm by gold cloaks. They half dragged her down the aisle and Jaime noted how his sister glared
daggers at Brienne.

This right here is exactly why she must die. If she is allowed to live, she will come for Brienne.

As Cersei was placed in the accused’s box and chained to the center post, she muttered under her
breath and glared at Brienne.

With a deep sigh, Brienne stood from her seated position on the throne. The members of court
stood in response and awaited Brienne’s words. “Cersei of the House Baratheon. You stand
accused of interfering in the Gods will during Trial by Combat and committing perjury against the
Gods during the trial of Ser Jaime Lannister. Do you admit to the charges?”

“I don’t need to answer to you. You’re no queen of mine! Kingslayer’s Whore!”

Jaime felt his fist clench as he locked eyes on Cersei. Through clenched teeth, Jaime spoke
warningly to her. “Shall we add treason to the list of crimes against the crown? You will speak
respectfully to your queen or I’ll remove your head myself.”

At Jaime’s words, Cersei’s face turned a violent shade of red. “You’ll take my head as you took my
maidenhead, brother?”

Tyrion immediately stepped in to see the spiraling confrontation brought to an end. “I worry for
your mental health sister. First you wish to see your own twin killed. Now you falsely accuse him
of laying with you. Your obsession has become most unnatural. Guards gag the accused please.
Her words are an offense to the court. I do not wish to offend the queen’s ears with Lady Cersei’s
filth.”

Every part of Jaime wanted to walk down the steps to Cersei and slice off her head with Widow’s
Wail. Instead, he took a steadying breath and did what he should have the first time. He bit his
tongue.

As he seethed, Jaime’s eyes scanned the room and landed on Tywin. His father sat quietly and
nodded approvingly at Tyrion’s decision to gag Cersei before she uttered anything else
disparaging. The guards quickly placed a linen over her mouth and tied it tightly behind her head.

Brienne sighed heavily and looked to Tyrion. “I assume we’ll take the accused’s response as a
denial of her crimes?”

Jaime snorted and bit back a laugh as his lips curved into a snide smile. The returning smile from
Tyrion was almost Jaime’s undoing as he tried to maintain his composure. “I think that is a fair
assumption, your Grace. Now, unless the accused has anything further to add… ah… my apologies.
She can’t. Even better. Lets begin…”

From her position on the stand, Cersei began thrashing wildly and screaming against the linen that
had been put in place to muffle her protests. Tyrion spoke sarcastically from his seat. “I’m sorry,
but did you say something Lady Cersei?”

Cersei began kicking the inside of the stand as her muffled screams echoed off the throne room
walls. With a resigned look, Tyrion looked to one of the attendants. “Get the accused a quill and
parchment. Lets see what charges she wishes to add to the list now.”

Within moments, the attendant ran back into the room with the requested items. He moved to the
stand and handed it to Cersei. Jaime watched in amusement as Cersei snatched it away angrily and
began furiously writing on the paper. When she was done, Cersei threw the items onto the floor at
the foot of the stairs.

Tyrion nodded to the attendant who retrieved the paper and brought it shakily to him. “Thank you
Dason.” With a sigh, Tyrion read the words; an amused smile flitted across his face.

Turning to Brienne, Tyrion relayed the message. “You Grace, the note says ‘Queen Brienne. My
most sincere apologies for my uncouth behavior…”

At Tyrion’s obviously false words, Cersei began to again thrash about angrily much to the
amusement of the court.

Ignoring Cersei’s outburst, Tyrion continued. “…I of course recognize your superiority and humbly
beg your forgiveness. I do however request a more impartial pair of jurors.”

With an amused smile, Brienne looked knowingly at Jaime. He scoffed and feigned offense.
“What? I can be impartial.”

Brienne shook her head and sighed. “Ordinarily the crown would not allow the accused to protest
selected jurors, but given my Hand and my husband happen to be brothers of the accused, I would
agree. I’ll select two new jurors from different kingdoms with no bloodline to the accused.”

Tyrion and Jaime stood from their chairs and made their way to where Tywin sat. With an amused
look to his sister, Jaime sat back and crossed his arm. The court went silent as Brienne began to
speak again. “The crown would ask Lady Olenna Tyrell and Lord Selwyn Tarth to act as new,
impartial jurors.”

Cersei’s eyes went wide in horror before she began thrashing wildly once more. Her muffled
protests were even louder than before. A very smug looking Olenna and an amused looking
Selwyn took the seats that Jaime and Tyrion had vacated. The Queen of Thorns had never looked
more pleased.

The crown called its witnesses. There were no shortage of eyes and ears to confirm what everyone
in court and at the trial bore witness to. It was a long and tedious process. Cersei sat seething
throughout it and Jaime couldn’t but enjoy her rage.

Looking to Brienne, Jaime could see she was tiring. He had noticed a fatigue to her the last couple
of days and worried she may be getting sick.
Tywin must have noticed the same as he leaned over and mentioned that they should call for a
break in the proceedings. After the current witness concluded his testimony, Tyrion stood and
requested the court take recess before continuing.

The jurors and Brienne retreated to a small chamber off to the side which Tyrion, Jaime, and
Tywin joined them in.

Jaime moved quickly to Brienne and cupped her cheek in hand. “Are you feeling alright? You’ve
looked weary lately. Am I keeping you up too much at night?” His last words were hushed and
held a teasing tone, but when Brienne didn’t bother to return his words with her usual eye roll,
Jaime knew that something was wrong.

“Here. Sit down and I’ll get you some water.” Making haste for the water jug in the corner of the
room, Jaime poured a full cup and returned to Brienne’s side. She was a bit pale and her eyes were
fluttering shut.

Brienne grumbled as she took the cup. “Gods. When can this be over with? How much more do we
need to hear?”

With a sigh, Jaime looked back to the others who were speaking idly and enjoying refreshments
themselves. “No much longer. Let me take the stand next. I’m confident that will put an end to
this.”

I’ll get the bitch to seal her fate.

Brienne offered a warning look, but Jaime shook his head. “Let me. It will be done with in no
time.”

Trust me, Brienne. No one will blame you for this sentencing once I’m done giving testimony.

With a sharp intake of breath, Brienne nodded in approval. “Very well. I’d give anything for this to
be over with.”

Placing a gentle kiss to Brienne’s forehead, Jaime helped her up. “You should rest after this. Truly,
you don’t look well.”

Their small group headed back into the throne room. As Brienne entered, the court fell silent and
stood out of respect for their queen. As he walked by Cersei, Jaime offered a wicked smile. Get
ready sweet sister. Time for some fun.

Once everyone was settled, the crown called on Jaime as the next witness. Jaime saw shock flash
across Tywin’s face, but he hardly noticed. Jaime was too busy enjoying the expression on Cersei’s
face.

Taking the stand, Brienne spoke calmly to Jaime. “Ser Jaime. You have testimony to Lady Cersei’s
crimes?”

A wide smile flashed across Jaime’s face as he stood in the witness box. “I do your Grace. To the
charge of lying to the Gods during my trial, she claimed that I had begged her to marry me and flee
to Essos. As my lord father can attest, it is for your hand that I begged leave of the Kingsguard. I
would never soil myself with a woman known to be sleeping with most of the Kingsguard and my
own cousin.”

A small rumble of gasps and laughter erupted through the hall and Tywin cast a warning look to
Jaime who smiled even wider before continuing. “After I had my release from the Kingsguard
secured to wed you, Lady Cersei came to my old room. She begged for me. Told me that I am hers.
Her other half. Born together die together. She said that I can’t wed you and leave her here.”

Cersei stood from her box and glared at Jaime. What? Does the truth hurt to hear spoken aloud
sister? Unlike you, I don’t need to tell of false encounters.

Continuing his testimony, Jaime met Cersei’s eyes. That day in his former chambers, he saw
something spark in her at certain words he spoke. Words he didn’t understand would have had such
an impact, but they did. “Of course, I could care less for her pathetic attempts to lure me to her bed
as she did so many others. I already had my queen. More beautiful than she could ever be.”

And there it is. The words that had previously caused a shadow to pass over Cersei’s face brought
it back again. Like a wild animal, Cersei began flailing harder than she had at any point that day.
Dropping to her knees, she tried to use the railing to push the linen from her mouth as she screamed
in rage.

Her face began to smash against the railing when the linen would not remove itself. Brienne
jumped from her seat in alarm and screamed for the guards. “Take Lady Cersei to the cells! She is
not fit to stand trial any longer. We will pass her sentence without her here.”

The guards moved to unchain her shackles that held her chained wrists to the stand. With only her
wrists now chained, Cersei was able to claw at the linen covering her mouth. As the guards were
outside the accused’s box, they had not expected this type of fight and Cersei wriggled out of their
grasp as her mouth became free from the gag.

“Fucking whore!” Cersei glared at Brienne and seethed. “I will kill you for taking him from me!
He is mine! You will never be…”

Before she could finish, Jaime had rushed from the witness box and grabbed her by the throat.
Bending her backwards against the railing of the accused’s box, Jaime held her in place by her
throat. “You will never threaten my wife! My love! Our queen! You are nothing to me. Do you
understand? We were born together, but we most certainly will not die together.”

As Jaime spoke, Cersei chocked on sobs and tears streamed down her face. The guards grabbed
each of her arms and hauled her to her feet. Tywin screamed from his seat. “Get her out of here!
She has threatened our queen.”

The court was silenced by the scene playing out before them. Whispers of “She’s mad”, “Madder
than Aerys”, and “She threatened the queen” reached Jaime’s ears. Had he not been so enraged at
Cersei’s threatening Brienne, he would have felt triumphant.

Turning back to Brienne, Jaime moved quickly to her. She was frozen in place watching as the
court had been; her eyes wide in shock. Wrapping his right arm around her, Jaime touched her
cheek with his left hand and brought her attention back to him. “It’s over. You need to give the
sentence.”

At their side, Selwyn and Olenna had stood almost protectively before Brienne. Olenna muttered
more to herself than anyone. “Glorious.”

Brienne met Jaime’s eyes and he encouraged her to give the sentence. Looking to Selwyn and
Olenna, they nodded at her to begin. Speaking before the court, Brienne’s tone was devoid of
emotion. “I Brienne Lannister have heard the witnesses and find Lady Cersei Baratheon guilty on
all counts. The punishment for her crimes against the Gods and Realm is death. Do my jurors
agree to the sentencing?”
Selwyn spoke confidently at Brienne’s side. “Aye.”

Olenna’s face broke into a wide smile. “Aye.”

Brienne took a deep breath. “May the Gods have mercy on her soul.”
 Changing Times
Chapter Summary

A request is made of Brienne before they head to a small council meeting. Their
meeting is then interrupted with unfortunate news.

Jaime stood in the yards watching Brienne, Endrew, and Addam spar. He smiled widely as
Brienne felled each of the men for the second time in a matter of minutes. The threesome took a
break to rehydrate and rest before returning to training.

Approaching the group, Jaime watched in concern as Brienne buried her head in her hands. What is
going on with her? It was the day after Cersei’s trial and Brienne had spent much of the prior
afternoon and evening feeling faint with little appetite. That morning, she slept later than usual and
moved slowly to the yards.

“Wench. It took you twice as long to knock them to their asses today. Clearly you’re unwell.” At
Jaime’s words, Brienne snorted and shook her head. “You don’t give them enough credit. They’re
quite skilled.”

Looking to his childhood friend, Addam, Jaime raised a challenging brow. “I think you’re giving at
least one of these knights too much credit.”

Addam straightened and guffawed at Jaime. “Well, look who abandoned his sunbathing to watch us
spar. How is our lazy house cat doing?”

“I take my duties to the realm very seriously Addam. Truly, I don’t know what you’re on about.”
Jaime chuckled inwardly as he said the words, trying and failing at conveying an air of importance.

Brienne snorted; her eyes darting to Jaime. “What did your father call you? A nice decorative piece
for formal ceremonies?” A loud guffaw pushed past Addam’s lips. “Truly!? Did he? Gods, I love
your father.”

“Well… I am very pretty. Wouldn’t you agree, Brienne? On a scale of Walder Frey to Renly
Baratheon, where do I fall?”

A deep blush spread across Brienne’s face. That blush better be in response to how handsome I am
and not the memory of Renly.

Brienne scanned the yard as though it contained the answer to Jaime’s question. Brienne’s brows
rose as her eyes landed on something over Jaime’s shoulder. “Your brother.”

“My brother!? That’s your answer.” Jaime scoffed indignantly and crossed his arms across his
chest.

“No, I mean that your brother is headed towards us.”

Oh.

Brienne took steps away from them and towards Tyrion. The younger Lannister brother had his
squire, Pod, at his side. “Goodsister! Just the person I was looking for.”

Turning at the sound of Tyrion’s voice, Jaime moved quickly to Brienne’s side. “You didn’t
answer the question.” Surely, she must prefer me to Renly? I refuse to be outdone by Renly fucking
Baratheon.

Brienne sighed in exasperation and ignored Jaime’s question. Looking to Tyrion with a hand raised
to block out the sun, Brienne yelled across the yards. “What do you need me for?”

The approaching pair came to a halt before them. The young squire eyed Brienne eagerly; the
desire to please practically pulsating off the boy. Jaime watched on with an amused expression on
his face.

“This is Podrick Payne. He has been my squire here since I returned to King’s Landing. A good
lad, but what he desires, I can’t help him with. He wishes to be a knight.”

Brienne smiled warmly at the boy before responding to Tyrion. “I can ask the men if they have
need of a squire. Mayhap Ser Endrew?”

Tyrion chuckled and shook his head. “Actually, your Grace, Pod would like to squire for you.”

“For me? I’m not a knight.”

Jaime looked between Pod and Brienne. The young squire’s eyes widened in excitement as he
began to speak. “You Grace. I saw you fight the Mountain! It was incredible. I would be honored
to squire for you.”

Taking in the hesitant look on Brienne’s face, Jaime clapped the lad on the shoulder. “Look at him!
Like a little pup. Can we keep him, Brienne?” His voice was teasing, but in truth he thought it a
good idea. Brienne had neither an attendant nor a squire. It would be helpful for her and the lad
already respected her.

Brienne moved to protest which spurred Jaime to speak on her behalf. Dropping the jest from his
tone, Jaime looked between Tyrion and Pod. “She would love Pod to squire for her.” The young
squire’s eyes were shining with excitement as he looked between Jaime and Brienne.

Jaime caught her eye and raised a brow. Just go with it.

“Uh… yes. That would be lovely.” At Brienne’s words, Pod stammered a reply. “Thank you, my
lady. I mean, your Grace. Ser. Not ser. Sorry.”

This. This is going to be great.

Tyrion clapped his hands together excitedly. “Wonderful. Pod, I have a council meeting to get to
with the queen and her consort here. Why don’t you tend to those books that I showed you before?
I’ll meet you in my study later.”

The young squire bowed to each of them and scurried off, smiling as he went. As she watched the
young man retreat, Brienne muttered under her breath; her words directed at Jaime. “What are you
doing?”

A smile tugged at Jaime’s lips. “What? You have neither an attendant nor a squire. I don’t see the
harm. Plus, he’s almost a man grown. If we can keep him alive, that’s one step closer to keeping
babes alive.”
Brienne snorted at the words. “Why can’t we just get a plant or a hound to test that theory out?”

As they began walking towards the castle, Jaime threw an arm around Brienne’s shoulders and
tugged her close. “Because plants and hounds can’t fluster you and I so enjoy that. This will be
fun.”

With a heavy sigh, Brienne dropped her head. Unlike their earlier japing, Jaime knew she was
experiencing uncertainty over this. “Podrick would be better off with an actual knight. I’m not a
leader. I don’t want people following me.”

Jaime snorted and teased. “Bit late for that now, your Grace.” When Brienne didn’t roll her eyes or
scowl, Jaime grabbed her wrist to halt their progress. Tyrion continued walking along; ignorant to
the halted progress of the pair behind him.

“Brienne. Pod would be lucky to have you to train him. The boy will get any position he wants in
the Seven Kingdoms after squiring for you. You’ll be the best thing that’s ever happened to him.”

Before she could protest further, Jaime pressed a kiss to her lips. He could sense her souring mood
and tried to change the subject as they began walking again.

“You never answered me earlier. Am I as pretty at your precious Renly?”

With a longsuffering sigh, Brienne rubbed her eyes and muttered. “Oh Gods. Truly, Jaime.” Jaime
looked to her expectantly and smirked. Something shifted in Brienne’s features as vexation was
replaced with mirth. “I don’t know, Jaime. Renly was very pretty.”

A touch of jealousy flared at her answer. “Well, my apologies. Would you rather he was your
consort?”

Brienne huffed a laugh and shook her head. “Yes, of course. Nothing would be better than a
consort who fancied men.”

“Well if he didn’t…”

“Honestly, Jaime! Do you want to hear that you’re more handsome than Renly?”

Jaime turned his head away in feigned indifference. “No… it’s fine. I can take a hint. How could I
ever compete with your Renly?”

Amusement sparkled in Brienne’s eyes. “You’re ridiculous. Jaime, you are much prettier than
Renly.”

Turning his head back towards her, Jaime sighed and shrugged slightly. “I knew it. You’re
obsessed with me.”

Before Brienne could retort, Tyrion cleared his throat in a thinly veiled attempt to gain their
attention. “If you’re about done…” Extending his hand towards the door, Jaime and Brienne took a
deep breath and stepped inside.

It was the worst part of Jaime’s day. Small council meetings.

Technically, he shouldn’t need to attend, but Brienne made him. ‘If I’m to endure this, so are you.’

Genna, Olenna, Varys, Pycelle, and Oberyn sat waiting for them. Everyone stood at Brienne’s
entry which always earned an amused chuckle from Jaime. It wasn’t the act of everyone standing
that made him laugh, but rather Brienne’s distaste at the gesture. She hated the reminder that she
was queen and it made Jaime love her that much more.

Brienne, Jaime, and Tyrion took their seats. As usual, Jaime reached for the bowl of grapes and
immediately leaned back in his chair. He began snacking idly while Tyrion prattled on about some
tedious subject.

The conversation went on for some time until a topic caught Jaime’s interest. “You’ll need to name
a new Lord Commander soon, you Grace.” Tyrion’s voice was imploring, but Brienne’s response
was unflappable.

“Until we see the law changed so that Kingsguard can marry, I will not.”

Wait. What?

“What about Kingsguard marrying?”

With a look of confusion, Brienne tilted her head at Jaime. “We discussed this twice already this
week. Are you truly tuning us out?”

Jaime looked around the table as though he had been caught stealing lemon cakes from the hall
before a feast began. He took in the disapproving looks from his aunt and Olenna who had become
far too close for Jaime’s liking. Varys and Pycelle looked unimpressed by Jaime as ever. Oberyn
was the only one who looked amused.

“Well I must have missed it. I was busy doing Consort-ly things.”

“That’s…. not even a thing.” Tyrion shook his head at Jaime in confusion.

Brienne sighed and patted Jaime’s arm in a patronizing manner. “Your brother has been asking me
to name a new Lord Commander, but I would first prefer to see the law changed so that Kingsguard
can marry. Lady Olenna feels its too big of a break from tradition.”

Jaime’s brows knitted in confusion as he looked to Olenna and protested. “It’s a great idea. Why
wouldn’t that be a thing? You really think they’re all celibate anyway?’ A wide smile stretched
across Jaime’s face as he continued. “Did I ever tell you about the time when I served in Aerys
guard and Ser…”

“I don’t know what filth you’re about to share, but tradition is important!” Olenna crossed her arms
in a huff and looked to Genna. Swatting Genna’s arm, Olenna nodded to her and begged
agreement. “Come now, Genna! Surely, you agree. These children don’t appreciate tradition.”

Genna sighed and nodded slightly. “I do think there is a reason the tradition exists.”

Jaime guffawed. “Ah yes… so the always honorable Kingsguard put their king before their cocks.
With this law change, you would only stand to obtain higher quality knights willing to join the
Kingsguard or rather, Queensguard in this case. Truly. I don’t understand what the issue is.”

Sitting back in his chair, Jaime popped more grapes into his mouth and looked to Brienne. She had
an amused smile on her face. Looking back to Olenna and Genna, she spoke challengingly.
“Spoken from a former Kingsguard himself. It’s interesting to me how neither of you ladies batted
an eye when I suggested order of succession should be birth order and not sex. That seems to go
against tradition as well.”

Olenna huffed and looked to Brienne with shock writ across her face. “That is different! Lets be
honest. The women rule their Houses anyway.”

“And the Kingsguard don’t already act with their cocks best interest in mind? Cersei slept with half
of them in the past year alone.” As soon as the words left her mouth, Brienne’s eyes flitted to
Jaime. Regret flooded her eyes.

Does she expect me to care or be mad? It’s true. At a time, I would have picked her over Robert
any day. Oaths be damned.

Jaime chuckled approvingly at her words. Before Olenna could protest further, Brienne stood from
her seat and marched towards the door. Motioning to someone, Jaime watched as Ser Boros
followed Brienne into the room.

“Ser Boros. If we changed the law to allow you to take a wife, would you be pleased of that or
upset that it went against tradition?”

The knight looked to everyone in the room. With his helm on, Jaime could only see his jaw slack
in confusion. “I… I think it would be a good thing, your Grace.”

With a victorious smile, Brienne thanked the man and walked back to her seat. “That’s two for
two. Shall we call in any others?”

Olenna waved at her dismissively. “Fine. You win.” The older woman’s attempt at conveying
vexation gave way to an amused smile as she shook her head and looking approvingly to Brienne.
“I suppose next, you’ll want to allow women to be knights. Of that, I would agree. I would even
recommend who the first should be…”

With a knowing smile, Olenna looked down to her quill and parchment and began scribbling.
Jaime’s heart swelled with pride as he looked to Brienne. The expression on her face did not mirror
his appreciation for Olenna’s comment, however.

The meeting continued, but soon an urgent knock came at the door. Tyrion bid the visitor enter and
Jaime’s brows furrowed at the sight of a gold cloak panting in the doorway. “Apologies for the
interruption, your Grace. My lords. My ladies. I bring most urgent news. Queen Cersei has
escaped.”
 Cersei's Escape
Chapter Summary

Cersei finds herself in an unexpected position. She thinks on how best to use her new
situation for leverage.

The sun set to the west as Cersei peered out from under her hood. The cloak smelt like the peasants
of Flea Bottom that she spent years avoiding. Bile rose in her throat at the thought of the lowborn.
Their grubby hands pawed at her over the years as her escorting party would pass through the city.

Cersei sat astride a horse surrounded by the cloaked figures of Loras, Tyrion’s whore, Qyburn, and
half a dozen of Loras’ soldiers. He’s likely bedded these men. Why else would they move against
their own liege for her dolt grandson?

The last two days played out before her. She had been sentenced to die after losing her composure
at the trial. Cersei hardly cared. She spent the week leading up to the trial expecting nothing less
than a death sentence. Only the cow seemed hesitant, but Cersei’s traitor kin seemed too eager to
see her replaced by Jaime’s whore.

When the guards dragged Cersei back to the cell, she expected that the next time the cell door
opened, it would be for the walk to the executioner’s block. When instead the door opened to
reveal Sansa’s handmaiden, Cersei stood rigid in confusion.

“Time to leave this shithole city. Come quickly and don’t speak.” The handmaiden threw the filthy
cloak at her and led the way. As Cersei stepped into the hallway, she saw Loras and his men
standing over dead gold cloaks. Slipping through the passageways below the keep, they emerged at
the beach to awaiting horses being held by Qyburn.

It was dark and Cersei considered slipping back inside to kill her kin and that cow who sullied the
throne every time she sat on it. Instead, she stood mutely as Loras barked orders at his men.
Qyburn approached and spoke quietly in her ear. “Your Grace. Let me help you onto the horse.”

The first day’s journey was spent in silence. They rode through the night and made camp during
the day; hidden well off the road. Cersei was curious to know where they were headed. To know
why Loras rescued her. Instead, she kept quiet and ate the meager offerings the soldiers provided
during breaks.

It was on the second day that Cersei could no longer take the silence. “Loras, what is going on?
Where are you taking me? I am the queen and I will not…”

“You are not the queen anymore. I would be careful with that if I were you.” The young knight
spat the words bitterly and tore into his allotted bread. Rage simmered in Cersei’s core, but she
collected herself and pressed the matter.

“What is going on?”

With a heavy sigh, Loras looked around and kept his voice low. “Since your brother’s trial, one of
Baelish’s spies has been getting word to me. Littlefinger’s sources claim they were coming for my
head next for helping you lie. Lord Baelish has offered us protection at the Vale.”

No! Not Littlefinger!

“Are you insane! You can’t trust Littlefinger! He is a snake and…”

“The only chance we have! Would you have preferred that we left you there? Let them take your
precious, golden head for the crows to feast on? I’ve turned against my own kin for you, so do try
not to make matters worse for me when we get to the Vale.”

Loras’ face flamed red with anger. Nothing about the situation felt right to Cersei. Looking at their
small group, Cersei’s eyes fell on the woman who was part of her escape. “Who is that? I’ve seen
her before. A handmaiden, I believe.”

Loras snorted and shook his head. “Truly? I thought you knew everything that happened in the
Keep. That’s Tyrion’s whore. He got her a position as Sansa’s handmaiden some time ago.”

Memories flooded Cersei and her features contorted in confusion. “No… she can’t be. I found his
whore. That wasn’t her.”

With a guffaw, Loras poked at the dirt with a fallen branch. “Why do you think she helped?
Baelish’s spies have been in communication with her too. They told her that Tyrion never intended
to let Sansa go. That he is just using Shae until the Stark girl gives herself to him. She is the one
who took the key from Tyrion’s room.”

Cersei gasped. How could I have missed it? I had the wrong whore pegged. That little monster
snuck one in under my nose.

Taking a deep breath, Cersei appraised Loras. “Come now, Loras. Even you’re not so stupid as to
fall for Baelish’s false offering of protection. As you said, you’ve turned against your house to free
me. Why the risk?”

Again, Loras checked the area around them and spoke quietly. “The North, the Vale, and the
Riverlands are rallying against the crown. The Boltons heard that freak is on the throne and they
know she’ll come for them. Qyburn is one of theirs. He heard the whispers of the new council.
Apparently, your brother and Brienne have quite the history with the Boltons. Did you know that
your brother lost his hand for her.”

Cersei huffed a laugh and spoke angrily. “No. One of Bolton’s men took his hand for running his
mouth. Typical Jaime really. He never did know when to shut up.”

Again, Loras laughed and shook his head. “Qyburn heard Locke and his men talking about it when
they arrived at Harrenhal. Your brother saved Brienne from rape and lost his hand for it. The dolt.
She spent the entire ride to Harrenhal mothering your brother as he whimpered and pissed himself.
That’s why they call her the Kingslayer’s Whore.”

Rage and jealousy boiled inside Cersei. How could he!? He was supposed to be my protector. My
golden lion. He ruined himself for that beast!

Loras continued as Cersei’s mind spun. “Baelish claims the Freys fear retribution for their
involvement in the Red Wedding. The new queen was quite fond of the Starks and served Lady
Catelyn. I can’t read Littlefinger’s intentions, but he wouldn’t choose a losing side.”

I can work with this. I can manipulate these dolt men and reclaim my throne. When I do, I will
destroy that cow. I will make Jaime watch as I have her killed before him. Then I’ll take his life as
Tywin watches his hope for a dynasty drain away, just as his own life leaves his body.

The rest of the day was spent on horseback. Cersei plotted her approach with Baelish for when
they would arrive at the Eyrie. A few more days passed until they entered the mountainous terrain
of the Vale.

A thick fog cover had settled over the landscape and made it difficult to see much beyond their
horses’ snouts. The monotonous sound of hooves stomping over rocky terrain nearly lulled Cersei
to sleep from atop her mount. Then, she heard Loras call for a halt. Faint voices were heard in the
distance and Cersei panicked.

Straining to hear, Cersei’s eyes widened in shock. I know those voices.

Looking ahead to Loras, Cersei whispered. “That’s the Hound and Arya Stark. We need to get that
girl for leverage.”

With a look of uncertainty, Loras looked to his men and nodded. They unsheathed their swords and
dismounted. The men gave their reins to Shae, Qyburn, and Cersei to hold while the moved in.

Cersei scoffed at their assumption that she would hold any horses for them. “I’m not a fucking
stable hand. I’m the queen.” Loras only rolled his eyes and scoffed. “Right now, you’ve less to
your name than a tavern wench. Shut up.”

Slowly making their way forward, the seven knights from the Reach passed through the fog
covering and towards the voices. An eerie silence settled over the area and a knot formed in
Cersei’s stomach. What if those dolts can’t even handle the Hound? He’ll recognize me and do
Gods knows what with me.

The sound of steel clashing together and a girl’s scream caught Cersei’s attention. Shouts and
grunts of battle echoed off the rocky terrain and the horses stamped their hooves impatiently. The
sound of men dying lifted into the air; sending Cersei’s heart racing.

Jaime. I need Jaime. Only he could ever protect me properly.

Shaking the thought as though a shadow of the past, no more likely to bring her aid than the ghost
of her mother, Cersei reprimanded herself.

No. Jaime can’t help me now. He’s useless without his sword hand. He lost it for that cow.

The sounds began to die down and Cersei held her breath. Outlined figures made their way back
through the fog. A flailing child could be seen in Loras’ arms as loud shrieks and curses filled the
air.

“Let go of me! Where are you taking me!?” The familiar face of the boyish Arya Stark came into
view. Cersei’s eyes narrowed in distaste at the girl’s awful haircut. Gods. She must have tried
passing as a boy to escape the city.

Appraising the men, Cersei noted that only three returned with Loras. They were covered in blood
and panting heavily from exertion. “What of the other three!?” Cersei’s tone was heavy with
accusation. How incompetent can they be!?

Loras looked to Cersei as though he had half a mind to throw her from the nearest cliff. “That was
the Hound! Even injured and weak, he nearly killed us all. We’re lucky to have only lost three.”

Arya spat in Cersei’s direction and clenched her jaw in anger. Speaking through gritted teeth, she
cursed at Cersei. “You! You and your fucking shit son killed my father! Your stupid soldiers here
could barely defeat one man!”

Were the situation not so dire, Cersei would have laughed at the girl’s tenacity. Instead, she tilted
her chin at the young wolf and sneered. “I would suggest you keep your mouth shut or I’ll order
your head removed. We could see if your head drops like a stone of blows vacantly in the breeze
like your dolt father’s did.”

At Cersei’s words, Arya’s face contorted in rage. A red matched only by the crimson of the
Lannister banners flooded the girl’s face as she squirmed to break free of Loras’ grasp.

One of the soldiers moved to his horse’s satchel and grabbed some rope. Pinning Arya’s arms to
her body, the soldiers bound her tightly and then secured her wrists together. So much rope. Are
they that afraid of a little girl? Gods. It’s a wonder they beat the Hound.

When they eventually had Arya situated atop a newly vacated horse, the remaining soldiers
consolidated supplies from the other satchels before setting off again. Arya scowled indignantly as
they moved out, but when they came upon the litter of bodies, the girl’s face fell at the sight of the
Hound.

Cersei hated battle. A soldier’s work was necessary, but unpleasant to think on. Cersei thought of
soldiers as little more than pawns meant to do her bidding. She cared little for their lives or
background; only that they fight to carry out her will.

Passing by the bodies, one of Loras’ men shook his head solemnly. “Mance was to be a father
soon. Someone will need to tell his lady when we get back.”

Cersei rolled her eyes in disgust at the sentiment. Weak. Love makes you nothing but vulnerable.
Men like him will never amount to more than a common foot soldier.

Loras sighed and shook his head. “We discussed the consequence of aiding my cause. We won’t be
going back. I’ll send a raven to his family’s holding. I can’t give details of how he died, or we’ll all
be captured.”

The men nodded gravely, and the rest of the day’s journey was spent in silence. Cersei eyed the
young Stark and considered her options. The cow will come for her. Like these men, she is weak of
heart. That’s how we’ll bring her into the open.

As if sensing her thoughts, Arya’s head turned to Cersei. Her eyes narrowed in hatred and the girl’s
lips curled into a snarl. The sight gave Cersei more joy than anything else had in moons. “You’re
going to die little wolf, but not before I use you to kill those left who care for you. Your sister and
your mother’s sworn sword among them.”

Arya’s brows furrowed in confusion. Ah, that’s right. She knows not of the great beast.

A vicious smile tugged at Cersei’s lips. “Your fool mother thought she could outsmart us. She tried
to exchange my brother for you and your sister. She sent her great, lumbering, beast of a woman to
see the exchange made. Had she kept her sworn sword at her side, she might not have died at the
Twins. Brienne of Tarth. She has your sister and she’ll come for you too. That is how we’ll get to
them. That is how we’ll kill them before your very eyes.”
 The War to Come
Chapter Summary

The small council searches for Cersei. Pycelle figures out what is ailing the queen.

“It has been near a fortnight. Wherever she has gone extends well beyond the Crownlands and
neighboring kingdoms. We’ve alerted the ports and no one has observed anyone fitting your
sister’s description trying to board a ship.”

Jaime ran a hand through his hair in frustration. Narrowing his eyes at Oberyn, Jaime spoke
through gritted teeth. “And what of that curly haired shit Loras? Neither of them easily pass for
commoners and both are far too dainty to sully themselves by sleep on the ground at night.”

Olenna huffed in annoyance but held her tongue. The Queen of Thorns and Tyrion were the only
two people as vexed as Jaime by the turn of events. Both felt betrayed by those close to them,
although only Jaime, Brienne, and Sansa knew of the betrayal Tyrion faced with Shae.

The evening that the gold cloak announced Cersei was missing, Tyrion came to Brienne and Jaime
in private. Shae was missing as was Tyrion’s set of keys to the various areas of the Keep, including
the cells. A mix of emotions took hold in Tyrion; anger, remorse, and heartbreak.

Brienne felt it best not to mention Shae’s betrayal to anyone else in the council nor family. Instead,
they portrayed the woman as what the entire castle knew her to be. Sansa’s handmaiden. As
incensed as Jaime was, he felt for his brother. This was the second time in Tyrion’s life that his
heart had been broken.

The first heartbreak was on account of Tywin’s distaste for Tyrion’s choice in partner. Jaime would
never forgive himself for participating in the end of Tyrion’s marriage to Tysha. The second on
account of Shae’s bitterness and unwillingness to believe in Tyrion’s fidelity to her.

Oberyn’s voice filled the heavy silence following Jaime’s question and remarks. “They would be
stupid to move south. Neither the Reach, the Stormlands, nor Dorne would support them in this.
The West would not have them either. If they have not left Westeros, they could have only gone
North.”

“Just as I fucking said. Why have we no reports yet from our sources there.” Tyrion’s tone was
heavy with anger. Glancing to his brother, Jaime noted the worry lines at the corners of Tyrion’s
yes. It was obvious Tyrion had not found much sleep oft late; a condition they were all suffering
from in the Keep.

Varys spoke calmly from his seat. The spider bowed his head slightly and glanced around the
small council which of late included regular visits from Tywin and Selwyn. Neither had been able
to depart for their holdings and both were enraged at the state of things.

“My little birds to the north have been uncharacteristically quiet of late. I fear that Littlefinger may
have turned against the crown. We’ve apprehended some of his spies in the capital just yesterday,
although they have no information regarding the queen. Instead, they seem to be playing the part of
informant as to the ongoings of the castle.”
Jaime wanted to scream. “This is why I wanted Cersei executed the day of the trial! She did not
deserve a special sendoff with advanced notice to the masses. Now, my wife’s life is at risk.”

Glancing to his father, Jaime watched Tywin’s face twitch in guilt. “She was queen and mother to
kings! You could not simply lop off her head in the cells of the Keep, Jaime!’

“Why not!? It was still a kinder fate than she deserved.”

Genna grabbed Jaime’s arm; effectively breaking the cold stare passing between father and son.
“No sense dwelling on it, Jaime. What’s done is done. We just need to develop a new plan to deal
with the situation we now find ourselves in.”

Olenna nodded at Genna’s left. “Genna has the right of it. We need to mobilize our forces. Between
the four southern kingdoms, the other three don’t stand a chance. If they are harboring Cersei,
they’ll either give her up or die protecting her.”

With a heavy sigh, Tyrion concurred. “We have no other option. I’m sent missives to the Freys, the
Boltons, and Baelish. No one has responded. They’re planning something and I imagine they’re
behind Cersei’s escape.”

“We cannot openly march against them. Turning them on one another is the best approach.” Tywin
again tried to push his approach which had been cast aside by the council several times over the
last fortnight.

“It’s too risky. We can’t trust any of them. Look how easily they were swayed to our cause before.
Now they’ve had time to amass power and strength. Thanks to your efforts, they’re more powerful
than ever! You gave the Boltosn the North. You gave Baelish fucking Harrenhal and permission to
wed Lysa. You gave the Freys more power than they should ever hold!” Tyrion’s voice was awash
with anger and Jaime could only snort in agreement.

Brienne had the right of it. No good comes from scheming.

Before the arguing could continue, the door to the small council room opened and Pycelle came
shuffling in. The old maester moved to Jaime and leaned to his ear. “I’ve given her Grace some
herbs and she is resting now, but I would speak to you in private my lord.”

In the time since Cersei escaped, Brienne’s condition only worsened. Jaime and Brienne had
avoided telling anyone of her health, fearful it would cause unnecessary swirl. Nodding to Pycelle,
Jaime stood from his chair. The stares from his father and goodfather did not go unnoticed.

They had been pestering Jaime for days about Brienne. Her absence was growing more and more
noticeable at court and in small council meetings. Moving quickly towards his room, Jaime
worried after Brienne.

Gods, let her be well. I hope she doesn’t have some latent infection from the fight with the
Mountain. Huffing in irritation at Pycelle’s slow pace at his back, Jaime muttered impatiently and
reminded himself to have Brienne name a new Grandmaester.

When eventually they arrived at his room, Jaime pushed inside and moved quickly to Brienne on
the bed. She looked as pale as when Jaime left her that morning. A wet cloth had been draped over
her forehead and eyes. Gods. Please let this ailment be curable.

Jaime sat on the edge of the bed and placed a soothing hand on Brienne’s cheek. “Wench. Are you
still alive under there?”
“No.” Jaime snorted at her feeble reply. The drapes in the room had been drawn and only cracks of
sunlight stretched through. Before he could needle her more, Pycelle came to the edge of the bed.
“My lord, I’ve identified what ails our queen. Fortunately, her condition is not severe and should
rectify itself in several moon turns.”

“Thank the Gods. Seems awfully dramatic though. Several moon turns? Honestly wench, what
have you gone and done to yourself?”

Brienne huffed in indignation. “What have you done to me is more like it. I was perfectly fine until
you’ve seen fit to nearly kill me off.”

What?

“My lord, the Queen is with child.”

She’s with what now? Everything around Jaime came to a halt. It wasn’t as though they were doing
anything to prevent a babe, but outside of the offhanded japes of it being Jaime’s sole duty, Jaime
and Brienne had truly never discussed it. Dose she want a babe? Is she angry? Is she as thrilled as
I am?

“A babe?”

“Yes, my lord. That is typically the outcome of these situations.”

Fucking Pycelle. Were I not so pleased, I might actually throw him off the balcony.

Jaime tore the cloth from Brienne’s eyes and she winced at the light. “Why did you do that? I have
a headache.”

“Brienne… you’re pregnant.”

“Yes, that’s what he said.”

We’re going to have a babe! A babe with the name Lannister. A babe that I can love and claim. A
babe that I can train with a sword. A babe that I can teach to ride.

Jaime’s hand dropped to her belly. He smiled in awe as his eyes moved back to hers. When he saw
only moisture in Brienne’s eyes, he grew concerned. “Are you alright? Why are you crying?”

Brienne’s brows furrowed in confusion and she huffed a laugh. “What? I’m not crying. You are.”

Wiping at his face, Jaime realized that he was in fact the one crying. “Oh. The room… it must be
dusty.”

A wide smile spread across Brienne’s face. “It’s not dusty, Jaime.”

“Yes, it is! Or it’s the balcony. The breeze must be blowing in debris that’s assaulting my eyes.
Dirt or leaves or twigs or something.”

Brienne chuckled at his words and Jaime had never seen anyone so beautiful. Her cheeks pinked
for the first time in weeks and it only served to make Jaime’s eyes water again.

“More twigs?” Brienne’s tone was laced with amusement as she wiped at his eyes.

“Now you have to see that law changed to allow women to become knights. I want our little lady
getting knighted by her mother.”
“Oh, so it’s a girl then?”

“Yes, of course! What else would she be?”

Jaime’s hand was back on Brienne’s belly, tracing soothing circles with his thumb. As he looked to
her, his smile faded slightly. “Are you happy of it?”

Brienne’s eyes darted to the side. “I mean… I would appreciate it more if I wasn’t throwing up
quite so much and if I had the energy to get out of bed.”

Pycelle’s voice rose from behind Jaime’s back. It had escaped Jaime that the man was still in the
room with them. “The herbs that I’ve given will help. I can see some color is already returning.
The sickness should pass in another moon or two.”

A knock came at the door, but Jaime couldn’t be bothered to deal with it. He distantly heard
Pycelle move to answer it, but all Jaime could focus on was Brienne. Leaning forward, he kissed
her lips and smiled. “Wench. We made a little knight. We have to name her before she runs out of
womb…”

Jaime smiled widely and looked expectantly to Brienne. “Oh no. No, Jaime. That is horrible. No
pregnancy japes.”

Laughing excitedly, he shook his head. “Oh, this is going to be wonderful. Better than hand japes.
She also needs a womb name.”

“A womb name?”

“Well we can’t call her ‘it’. That’s weird. We need something to call her until she is allowed out of
quarantine and gets a proper name. We can name her Corona.”

“Corona? What is that? I’ve never heard of such a name.”

“It’s short for Coronation. That’s when I happened. I know it.”

Before they could continue their back and forth, Jaime heard the familiar voices of Tywin and
Selwyn entering the room. Pycelle was trying in vain to keep them outside, but if Selwyn wanted to
get somewhere, nothing could stop him.

“What is going on!? This has gone on long enough now. We’re not dolts you know. Clearly, she
isn’t well.” Selwyn’s voice was booming and laced with worry as he entered the room. “Gods
child. You look awful! I’ve never seen you avoid the yards so much. I knew something was
wrong. What is it?”

Selwyn stilled at the foot of the bed. As Tywin came to his side, both men’s eyes simultaneously
lowered to Jaime’s hand which had yet to move from Brienne’s belly.

Both their eyes went wide at the same time and Jaime heard Brienne mutter more to herself than
him. “Oh, Gods no.” Jaime watched as Tywin slowly moved around the bed. His hand came to
Jaime’s jerkin and yanked him backwards.

“Are you… with child?”

Jaime huffed in irritation as Tywin moved in front of him before Brienne. Looking to Selwyn,
Jaime observed the older lord’s eyes shine with hope.
“Yes.” Brienne’s voice betrayed her trepidation. “It’s quite early though and…”

Before she could finish speaking, Tywin and Selwyn were yelling with delight. Jaime stood back in
shock as the older lords embraced before turning their attention back to Brienne. Tywin pointed at
Brienne with the largest smile that Jaime had ever seen grace his father’s face. “This girl! Our
daughter, Sel! She’s amazing! Defeats the Mountain! Brings House Lannister the crown! Falls
pregnant with a babe… or babes! All in less than two moon turns!”

Sel? Oh, their relationship has progressed to nicknames now.

Selywn’s chest swelled with pride as he moved beside Tywin. They began peppering her with
questions and Jaime could tell it was quickly overwhelming Brienne.

From behind them, Jaime snorted. “I helped… don’t forget the studhorse.” The thought made
Jaime smile inwardly. Cersei always bitched about being a broodmare. I quite enjoy being a
studhorse. It might be my favorite duty ever.

Tywin waved at Jaime dismissively as he bent down to envelop Brienne in a most un-Tywin like
embrace. Well that’s awkward.

Selwyn’s arm moved around Jaime’s shoulders. The older lord gave him a hard smack to the check
as he chuckled. “Good lad!” At the contact, any air in Jaime’s lungs was cast out rapidly.

Seven hells! I think he cracked some ribs.

“We’re having a feast tonight! Whatever you want gooddaughter!” Tywin moved out of the room
quickly and began barking or attendants. Giving orders to everyone in earshot, Tywin sent the staff
scurrying in a variety of directions with various tasks.

Selwyn looked between Jaime and Brienne warmly. “Good work children! And Brienne, do not
stress about this Cersei situation. We’ll handle the war to come.”

Upon hearing Selwyn’s words, Brienne looked frantically to Jaime. Seven hells. I’ve been avoiding
tell her of this. Jaime gave a returning look to indicate he would tell her of it all later. For now,
Jaime just wanted to enjoy this moment of peace. The thought of his growing family sent a warmth
through his body that he wished to bask in forever.
 An Eyrie Dinner
Chapter Summary

Cersei and her group arrive at the Eyrie. They have an interesting dinner with Baelish.

Cersei stood in the Crescent Chamber of the Eyrie. Loathe as she was to admit it, the castle was
impressive. Smaller than other great houses, it was hardly the size that caught Cersei’s eye. It was
the location. The castle sat an unnerving distance above the valley floor. It seemed near impossible
to determine where the castle ended and the clouds began.

They were soon ushered into the High Hall by a dozen household guards. Upon moving into a
larger room, Cersei saw Littlefinger sitting smugly atop the seat of power where once, generations
of Arryns sat.

“If it isn’t our friends from the capital. Ser Loras. Lady Cersei. Welcome.”

Lady Cersei. The words were like a dagger to the heart and Cersei felt her face contort in thinly
veiled rage.

Standing from his seat, a throne made of weirdwood, Baelish wandered down the steps towards
their group. Cersei kept her eyes trained on Littlefinger. She trusted the man as much as she trusted
her kin. Not at all.

“I do hope the journey here wasn’t too unpleasant.” Baelish’s eyes scanned the group and widened
at the sight of Arya Stark. “Guards, please show Ser Loras’ men to their rooms. I wish to speak
with the rest of our visitors before they retire for the evening. See to it that Ser Loras’ men are fed
properly.”

The guards quickly escorted Loras’ men from the room, leaving Cersei, Loras, Qyburn, Arya, and
Shae in the High Hall. Baelish appraised Arya before turning to Loras. “You’ve found Arya Stark
for us. Well done Ser Loras. This will aid our cause greatly.”

Loras nodded and looked to Arya. “She was with the Hound. He won’t be returning for her
anytime soon.” An approving look from Baelish elicited a wide smile from the Knight of Flowers.
Littlefinger draped an arm around Loras’ shoulders, walking him closer to the center of the room.

“You’ve done well Ser Loras. I do appreciate all that you’ve done to rescue Lady Cersei from the
cells. She is much needed for the next stage of our plans to reclaim the throne…”

Littlefinger nodded slightly and two guard moved towards a wheel in the corner of the hall. With
several turns, the moon door opened and four guards from Cersei’s left charged towards Loras.
They grabbed him by the arms as Baelish spoke again. “…You however… are not.”

At Baelish’s words, the guards flung Loras through the opening to the valley floor below. Loras’
expression was one of pure terror as he reached out, clawing at the air for purchase. With a loud
scream, Loras fell through the opening and the guards moved silently back to their places.

Littlefinger looked to the two guards near the wheel and again nodded. The moon door closed, and
Cersei glanced to the rest of her group. All eyes remained fixed on the moon door. Shock writ
across their faces. Only Arya Stark spoke. “Seven hells.”

Fools. Never trust Baelish. You’ve doomed us all.

With a cunning smile, Baelish nodded to their group and extended an arm towards a separate
hallway. “Please, you must all be famished. Come enjoy a warm meal.”

Following Baelish, the group moved quietly through the keep. They made their way to the dining
hall where attendants put out an additional setting for Arya. Baelish moved to the head of the table
and sat down, immediately shoveling food and wine into his mouth.

“Come now. Don’t be shy. I imagine you’ve been eating little more than stale bread and game for
the past fortnight.” Cersei looked to Qyburn who began eating the foot placed before him. Waiting
for signs of poisoning, Cersei watched the older man. When no signs of illness came, Cersei began
to eat as well.

An awkward silence filled the room before Cersei looked to Littlefinger. The absence of Lysa
Arryn had been noticeable upon entry. “Where is Lady Lysa? I thought you came to seek her
hand.”

Baelish offered a sad smile. It reeked of falsehood and Cersei felt as unnerved by the man as she
did the castle’s architecture. “Sadly, my wife has passed. Lady Lysa was unwell. Prone to madness,
she flung herself through the moon door just days ago. I thought that I could make her happy, but
alas… I could not.”

So, you killed her. Lovely.

Cersei wasn’t so foolish as Loras to trust Littlefinger. He was little more than a scheming snake
with no true loyalty to anyone save himself. Glancing to her table companions, Cersei appraised
their reactions. Arya looked as horrified as she did when Loras was pushed through the door, but
Shae and Qyburn were oblivious, uncaring, or both.

Cersei’s next words dripped with sarcasm. “Tragic, I’m certain. Tell me though. Why am I here?”

“I do believe we share a common enemy. Neither of us wish to see Brienne on the throne and we’ll
need one another to remove her. I grew up with Lady Catelyn. We were close in childhood and
were it not for the Starks, she would have been mine. I was happy to see Ned Stark’s head removed
from his shoulders… not that he ever bothered to use that vacant skull of his.”

Arya seethed from her spot down the table. The young girl’s eyes narrowed at Baelish and her
chest heaved with rage. For her part, Cersei could hardly contain the smile tugging at her lips as
Baelish continued speaking.

“I swore to Lady Cateyln that I would look after her children. I intend to fulfill my promise to a
childhood friend. I will watch over Catelyn’s daughter, but the new queen has Sansa. The Boltons
have little love for our new queen and they understand that she plans to move against them. I’m
certain you’ve heard of their history with your brother and Brienne.”

Baelish’s eyes flitted to Qyburn who was taking in every word with a blank expression on his face.
“The real power in this fight will be the West. The Stormlands, Dorne, and the Reach will declare
for the new queen. We have the Vale, the North, and the Riverlands. You will bring us the West.”

Cersei scoffed. “Me? Have you failed to consider that my own kin tried to see my head removed?
My kin who happen to be Lannisters. Lannisters who hold the West. I can no more rally the West
than you can trust the Freys and Boltons.”
Seemingly ignoring Cersei’s protests, Baelish spoke in a nonchalant tone. “Your father has named
your brother’s babes heir to the Rock.” Littlefinger looked to Cersei and awaited her response.

“Assuming Jaime can bring himself to impregnant the cow. Truly, I don’t know that he is capable
of getting hard for her, but surely they would need multiple heirs for the Rock to have security. It
matters little to me.”

A sly smile spread across Baelish’s face. “It’s not Lord Jaime that I speak of, but rather Lord
Tyrion. Tyrion’s babes have been given claim to the Rock. Not Jaime’s babes.”

Rage bubbled inside Cersei. “What!? That is preposterous. The West will never accept that little
monster or any creature he produces! He isn’t fit to lead.”

“Which is why we had Loras bring you here. You will take the West and marry one of the Frey
boys to secure our alliance with Walder. Kill the man after the wars for all I care. We just need to
keep Walder in line. We won’t attack the capital first. We will take Casterly Rock. The West’s
forces are dispersed or in the capital. Now is the time to strike.”

Cersei scoffed and took a sip of her wine. “I once thought you cunning. You’re a fool. The West
won’t follow me or Tyrion so long as my father and brother live. They bend to them.”

“And they will do as you say once your father is held in the cells below the Rock. The West will be
paralyzed. If they move against us, we will kill their liege lord. Your father. We don’t need their
numbers to take the throne. We merely need them immobilized.”

Considering his point, Cersei shook her head and sighed. “You’ll never be able to capture my
father. He is well guarded and too powerful.”

A sly smile spread across Baelish’s face. “I wouldn’t be so certain of that.”

Cersei put down her cup and titled her head inquisitively. “Why not?”

“Your father has made many enemies over the years. It has not been difficult to find people willing
to move against him. His pride and thirst for power will be his downfall yet. Did you know that
many of the Stormland forces that were taken into the city after the Battle of the Blackwater still
support Stannis? Your friend Ronnet Connington among them.”

What is he on about? Stannis went slinking back to his island after my father’s forces embarrassed
him.

“Stannis has no power and no army. He was defeated soundly in King’s Landing. His men
abandoned his cause to join our ranks.”

Baelish smiled and leaned closer. “Stanns is far from defeated. He has treated with the Iron Bank
and procured an army. They are marching south to meet with the Boltons as we speak. I’ve been in
contact with him. Stannis’ men in the capital will fight for him in this war. He will take the crown.
I will have the Vale, the Boltons the North, the Freys the Riverlands, and you the West. Mayhap
we should consider giving Red Ronnet the Stormlands. He and a group of guards will be bringing
us Tywin. This war is already won. We just need to see it done.”

Cersei sighed and considered the plan. It was not strong and had many chances to fail, but it was a
better option than being beheaded in the cells of the Red Keep.

Still Cersei could not help but wonder at Baelish’s true motives. Why would he back Stannis to
Brienne? Why would he feel less protection under Tywin’s arm than the Boltons and Freys?
Then Cersei’s original plan came back to her. Her plan to offer herself to Stannis. He’ll need me to
declare Tommen illegitimate to truly secure the crown. I can offer him that when he offers me the
role as queen. When he disposes of that useless wife of his. Then I’ll kill him and be queen.

“I will not marry a Frey until the war is done. A betrothal is sufficient to keep Walder at our side.”

Baelish shrugged as though it mattered little to him. “So long as Walder accepts only a betrothal, I
care not. If he wants to see you wed, it will happen. We must immobilize the West to ensure the
Riverlands, the Vale, and Stannis’ army prevail. Having your name and presence at the Rock is
better than merely capturing Tywin. We must hold power over the West.”

Anger coursed through Cersei’s body. She would not see herself forced into any marriage for
another’s political gain. Her father used her for that purpose throughout her existence.

I’ll be queen again and when I am, Baelish will be the first to go.
 Hard Truths
Chapter Summary

Tywin and his BFF Selwyn have a chat while breaking their fast.

Days had passed since news of Brienne’s pregnancy. It felt as though Tywin was living in a dream.
He had long given up on seeing his line continue. Jaime was a Kingsguard with no desire to take a
wife nor claim his birthright as Lord of Casterly Rock. Tyrion had little desire to bed anyone but
whores. Tywin lamented that his only grandbabes would always have a different House’s name.

Then Brienne of Tarth stormed into his pride. She proved to be more than a physical force. She
brought Tywin a dream. Brienne gave Tywin his son back. His heir. His dynasty. She brought him
the crown and a grandbabe to bear the name Lannister. Jaime’s hand for hers seems more than a
fair exchange.

It all nearly came crashing down thanks to Cersei. The true corruption of their pride. Gods. If only
I had listened to my sons and seen her head removed the day of her trial.

Sitting on his balcony, Tywin heard a knock at the door. A smile tugged at his lips knowing who it
was. “Sel! Come in. I’m on the balcony.”

The door opened to reveal Selwyn Tarth. Just as unexpected as seeing Jaime married off with a
babe on the way, was finding a friendship with another lord. Tywin had a friend once in Aerys, and
that friendship was destroyed on account of the man’s decent into madness and lusting after
Tywin’s wife.

After Aerys, Tywin reconciled that comradery with other nobility would be for little more than
political gain with no underlying trust. Yet again, a Tarth proved him wrong.

Selwyn was the perfect ally. Strong, commanding, and well-respected in his kingdom. The man
was also the perfect friend. Loyal, trustworthy, and protective. Tywin knew that Selwyn would
defend both of their Houses to his last breath.

A small huff of laughter pushed past Selwyn’s lips as he appraised the plates on the table. “Alice
has been busy this morning.”

Tywin smirked. “Yes, I took the liberty of having the staff send up our food. If we’re to be stuck in
the capital keeping our children alive, we might as well enjoy ourselves.”

The island of a man sat down across from him and eagerly picked up his fork. “Any word from the
north?”

A grunt pushed past Tywin’s lips. “No. I grow tired of this dormancy.”

Selywn hummed in agreement as he ate. “Yes, I find this would be easier if the children would let
us hit people. These silent threats only vex me. I could march north and be home in time for
supper.”

Tywin snorted. Why did I not meet this man earlier in life? We could be ruling Westeros and Essos
by now. Jaime and Brienne would have a litter of children darting between our legs. Little
Lannister princes and princesses.

“I’ll give Tyrion another day to produce results and then I’m interceding. This has gone on too
long. There is a time for political maneuvering and a time for action. I’ll call my banners and see
this done.”

Selwyn shoveled some food into his mouth and contemplated Tywin’s words. Shaking his head,
Selwyn huffed. “We’ve been more than reasonable. I’m ready to put hands on people. I’ve waited
long enough.”

Tywin smirked and took a bite of his food. Looking back to Selwyn, he raised a brow. “How is our
girl faring?”

“Ha! Look…” Selwyn turned his head to expose a slight red lump near his right temple. “I
wandered into the yards to bludgeon something and found her there knocking your men to the dirt.
I told her she should stay abed.” The man’s chest swelled with pride as he nodded and pointed
again to his head. “Now she’s down there drilling that new squire of hers. Poor lad.”

“She’s in the yards!? Is that truly appropriate given her condition?”

Selwyn snorted and looked to Tywin as though he was the biggest dolt in Westeros. “You want to
tell her otherwise? Go right ahead. Say hello to the Stranger for me. Tell him how I like my eggs in
the morning.”

Tywin scoffed and took a sip of his tea. “Have you never had control of her?”

With a longsuffering sigh, Selwyn dragged his hand over his face. “Brienne is like the ocean. She
can be calm on the surface, but there is always something churning below. Give her respect though
and she’ll carry you to the ends of the world and back again. Just don’t try to command her.
Doesn’t end well.”

Tywin huffed and crossed his arms. “So you just let her run wild then?”

A bellowing laugh pushed past Selwyn’s lips. “Should I have taken your approach then? Tried to
force my daughter to do what I wanted? How did that work out for you?” A knowing smile
stretched over the man’s face and Tywin could do little but concede the point.

Selwyn sighed and spoke again. “After my wife passed, I was not as present as I should have been.
Then the twins died. Then Galladon died. I figured that I could try to force Brienne to be
something she is not and have her resent me for it, or I could set her free. Equip her with what she
needed to thrive and be happy. I find if you do that, they come back to you. If you don’t, they rebel
and hate you all the more for it.”

Tywin considered the words. The certainly rang true with his own children. All the good it did me
trying to force my children to do anything.

“How did your wife die?”

As if tearing Selwyn from his thoughts, the older lord hummed and sat up straight. “The birthing
bed. The twins died not long after.”

Tywin felt his heart still for a moment. “My wife died on the birthing bed too. My son however did
not die.” A slight bitterness crept into Tywin’s voice as he spoke of his beloved Joanna’s passing.
It was then that he felt Selwyn’s eyes on him. A hardness had set at the edges of Selwyn’s face as
he studied Tywin.

“So that’s it then? All this time I thought you hated Tyrion for being a dwarf. You hate him for
your wife’s death?”

Tywin scoffed and looked out over the city. “He killed her. He has always been a spiteful little
creature.”

Selwyn put down his fork and stared in disbelief as Tywin continued. “I never loved anything more
than my wife. She was my world. Tyrion took her from me. To make matters worse, he was born a
dwarf. As a boy, my father and his follies saw my family mocked. I was determined to only find
respect in this world. I worked hard to build my house anew. Then Tyrion came along and made it
a jape again. To make matters worse, he refuses to take on his duties with dignity. He has taken
nothing other than whores to bed. I even made him a match well above what he deserves.”

Selwyn shook his head at the words and sighed.

“That is the most ridiculous shit I’ve heard from your lips since I’ve arrived.” Tywin’s eyes went
wide. He moved to protest, but Selwyn continued talking.

“My wife was my world too. When she died, I turned to drinking and whoring to get through it.
Every year I took a new whore to bed. I tried to use them to dull the pain. The only thing that I
knew for certain was that my twin girls could never be blamed for it.”

Selwyn met Tywin’s eyes. His tone was firm as he spoke. “I didn’t get to hold my twins for long,
but I appreciated what little time I had with them. A parting gift from my wife. Women of all
stations die on the birthing bed. Sometimes the Gods are cruel and rip our loved one from us too
early. Pushing away Tyrion is pushing away the last piece of your wife. I saw my wife in those
girls every day until they passed. They had her eyes. They had her smile. I treasured looking upon
them until the Stranger took them too.”

Tywin’s brows furrowed slightly at the words. “Were they deformed by chance?”

Selwyn scoffed. “Gods, don’t tell me that you believe that only deformed babes are capable of
losing their mothers to the birthing bed? You’re the wealthiest house in Westeros. Surely you had a
proper maester counseling you!? My girls were not deformed nor is your son. He is a dwarf, yes,
but he is a most impressive young man. He strikes me as intelligent, witty, political, and just. And
Tyrion is much more like you than Jaime. I’ve only known all of you a brief time, but even I can
see that he is your son.”

Pausing to chuckle at his next words, Selwyn continued. “Jaime is an annoying shit. Don’t get me
wrong, I like the boy and he is perfect for Brienne, but he rarely takes things seriously. I imagine
he is a fantastic military commander, but if it doesn’t concern a battle or Brienne, he hardly seems
focused.”

Tywin hummed and nodded. “I struggled with him. He had little interest in his studies as a boy.
Tyrion was reading before Jaime was. I had to withhold Jaime’s training if he didn’t work on his
letters and reading. I spent hours with that boy forcing him. He challenged me very step of the
way. Never cared for politics either. He was more concerned with being a knight and getting hugs
from the kitchen staff. They adored him.”

Selwyn chuckled. “Well he’s an incredible knight, but I don’t imagine he or Brienne will be
thinking on political maneuvers and alliances anytime soon. They’re both alike in that regard. More
desire to serve than rule. To fight than speak. I’m certain they could fight their way out of
anything, but ironically, Tyrion will be the one who protects them.”

The words were weighty and uncomfortably accurate. Tywin wondered if he had been unfair to
Tyrion in holding him responsible for Joanna’s death. Would I have hated him if he was not a
dwarf and she died?

As if sensing Tywin’s inner turmoil, Selwyn spoke again. “Being a dwarf does not render him
incapable. You are Tywin Lannister. If you respect your son and demand your people respect him,
they will. If you despise him for something that he can’t control nor change, the West will despise
him for it too. I imagine Tyrion likes the role of Hand because it makes him feel important and
respected. The position aligns to his strengths. I would venture a guess he has lacked a great deal of
respect and acceptance in his life.”

Rubbing his forehead vigorously, Tywin groaned. “But the whores…”

Selwyn chuckled. “I’m not one to comment. As I said, I turned to them in time of need. It never
worked, but it felt good in the moment. Mayhap Tyrion is trying to replace the lack of love and
acceptance in his life through some other pleasure. He strikes me as a good man. I will say that I
hardly blame him for not bedding his wife. She’s a child! Ask yourself, if your father forced you to
wed a girl Sansa’s age, would you force yourself on her?”

Tywin scoffed at the question. “I would never force a woman.”

With a mighty chuckle, Selwyn sipped his tea. “Did it occur to you that perhaps that is why Tyrion
hasn’t bedded his child-bride? Tyrion and Sansa are likely the same age difference as Jaime and
Brienne, but the difference is that Brienne has been a woman grown for years longer. If Jaime and
Brienne wed when Brienne was Sansa’s age, she would have broken Jaime’s nose if he came near
her. Give Tyrion and Sansa some time. They are building their foundation. I’ve seen them together
and they get on quite well. Both strike me as possessing similar qualities. It’s a better start than
most get.”

Gods damn this man! He is worse than Genna now. Challenging my beliefs with logic.

Tywin huffed like a petulant child and crossed his arms. “Mayhap you have the right of it.”

“Of course I do. I’m a Tarth.” The lords exchanged knowing smiles and Tywin hummed in
amusement. They ate their food and spoke of lighter topics the rest of the meal. Most importantly,
they discussed which of them the babe would most resemble.

Later that day, Tywin sought out his sons. Finding Jaime was easy enough. He only needed to find
Brienne. “Jaime. I would have a word with you.”

Jaime turned at the sound of Tywin’s voice. By the Gods. What is on his face?

“What?” Jaime looked to Tywin as though nothing was out of sorts.

“What is on your face?”

Touching his face, Jaime’s eyes widened in understanding. “Oh. It’s ink.”

Do I want to know?

“Why is it on your face? Typically, ink would go on parchment, would it not?”

Jaime snorted and looked back to Brienne who was speaking with Genna and Olenna. “It would,
but when you lose a bet to your wife, sometimes you get ink on your face.”

No, I don’t want to know.

Sighing in exasperation, Tywin waved off further discussion on the matter and got to the point of
tracking Jaime down. “You’ll take supper with me tonight. Just you and Tyrion.”

Jaime’s brows furrowed slightly. “Why? What’s happened?”

“Nothing has happened?”

“Did someone die? Gods tell me it was Kevan. I know he’s your brother but can be such an ass.”

“No one has died! Can a father not have supper with his son just because?”

Jaime’s head tilted slightly, and he studied Tywin. “Are you unwell?”

By the Seven. What is wrong with this boy? Sel was right. An annoying shit.

“Ah! Jaime!” Tyrion’s voice called out from across the hall. He held a missive in his hand and
waved it vigorously. “I’ve been looking all over for you. Now I have told you not to use the
rookery for this.”

Before Tyrion could finish, Tywin cut him off.

“Good Tyrion, you’re here too. You and your brother will take supper with me tonight. Meet me in
my room and we’ll dine on the balcony.”

In a reaction akin to Jaime’s, Tyrion’s brows furrowed in confusion. “Why? Is something wrong?”

Jaime snorted and raised a brow at Tywin.

“What is wrong with the two of you!? Can a father simply not spend some time with his sons.
Selwyn spends time with Brienne and no one questions it.”

Jaime snorted and looked between Tyrion and Tywin; an amused smile on his face. “Yes, but
Selwyn is pleasant.”

With a scowl, Tywin turned on heel and called over his shoulder. “I’ll see you at supper. Don’t be
late.”

Tywin spent the rest of the day dealing with matters of the Rock. He sent missives to the West on
various topics he needed to address. There was a final missive intended to go to Daven that he held
in his hands. His plan all along had been to reorganize the West.

Tywin would spend a moon or so shuffling members of his house into new roles. He would name
Daven as castellan in Jaime’s absence and return to King’s Landing to place himself on the small
council. He might even take the role of Hand and give Tyrion something else to do.

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Tyrion, but Tywin thought his counsel would be greater. Looking at
the missive to Daven, he crumpled it up and cast it in the fireplace. Mayhap I’ll let Tyrion have
this. I’ll go to the Rock and leave the children be. Mayhap I’ll name Tyrion heir.

A smile flitted across Tywin’s face as he considered the option. He would change his plans for
inheritance upon his death. Tyrion would be Hand and receive the Rock. Jaime was quite content,
mayhap too content, in his role as Consort. Now I need to go West and see to it that Tyrion’s
authority is recognized and respected.

Looking out the window, Tywin could see the sun beginning to set. Despite Jaime and Tyrion
being such shits about it, Tywin was looking forward to dinner with his sons. Selwyn had the right
of it. Hopefully I can rekindle what my ambitions destroyed. I can be a father to them now. Joanna
would have liked that.

Tywin stood from his chair to leave just as the rookery door opened. A familiar looking man with
red hair stepped into the room and bowed. Where have I see that man before?

“My lord. We were hoping to have a word with you?” At the red head’s request, a group of six men
entered the rookery. Something felt wrong and Tywin took a step backwards. The men charged
forward and before Tywin could call for aid, his world went black.
 Keep or Kill
Chapter Summary

Jaime and Tyrion prepare to have dinner with their father. They are surprised to find
he isn't where he should be.

Jaime sat on the balcony in his room drinking a cup of wine with Brienne, Sansa, and Tyrion. The
wives were going to take supper together since Tyrion and Jaime would dine with their father.

“I’m telling you, he’s either been drinking too much of ‘Sel’s’ brandy or he’s decided to kill one of
us off.”

Shaking this head, Tyrion chuckled and raised his cup to everyone around the table. “Well in that
case, it has been a pleasure knowing all of you. Remember me fondly.”

“No. No, it won’t be you. It will be me. I got Brienne with child too quickly. Now I’m expendable.
You haven’t produced an heir yet for the Rock. You’re safe.” Jaime shoved grapes into his mouth
as he spoke. He was already feeling his wine as he tried to keep pace with Tyrion.

Tyrion snorted and pointed enthusiastically. “We should make a list of merits! Reasons to keep or
kill us.”

Nodding enthusiastically, Jaime sat upright in his chair. “Yes, this! We need to get in his mind.
Maneuvering. Scheming.”

Tyrion clapped joyfully. The fading sunlight reflected off his curly, golden locks as he sat up
straight. “I’ll start. On the positive side, I’m much better at scheming than you. I can dissect family
trees should we find anymore hidden Targaryens. My ability to grow facial hair is most impressive.
On the negative side, I’m slightly shorter than he would care for and I have a nasty habit of
sticking my cock into places it need not be.”

Jaime guffawed and looked to Brienne who was entirely unimpressed. Across the table, Sansa’s
face flushed at Tyrion’s words.

“OK my turn. On the positive side, I’m told that I make a lovely decorative piece. I’ve taken my
Consort duties very seriously…” Jaime looked suggestively to Brienne who groaned and pinched
the bridge of her nose.

“…On the negative side, my sword skills have taken a slight downturn.” Jaime raised his golden
hand in demonstration. “I don’t much care for ruling anything and I have a most unfortunate
tendency of talking my way into deadly situations.”

Brienne sighed and looked between the brothers. “You’re both very dramatic.”

“Would that be on the keep or kill list?” Tyrion’s brows furrowed in response. A loud laugh
pushed past Sansa’s lips, catching them all off guard. Jaime watched in shock as the young wolf
looked to Tyrion and patted his forearm; mirth heavy in her eyes.

Eying his cup suspiciously, Tyrion looked to Sansa and teased. “It’s empty again. Sansa, did you
do this?”

Sansa rolled her eyes and mouthed something to Brienne that Jaime couldn’t make out. A quiet
laugh was exchanged between the pair as Sansa reprimanded the men. “I think the two of you need
to stop drinking. This won’t help.”

“Won’t help, but it can’t hurt. Do you know how many times my father has requested to have
dinner with me since I’ve been alive?” Jaime looked to Sansa expectantly. She shrugged slightly
and glanced at Tyrion as though he would offer the answer. “The same number of times he has
asked Tyrion. Zero. I’m telling you, someone is dead, dying, or being disowned.”

Tyrion looked up eagerly. “That’s it! He’s disowning us.”

Jaime’s tone took on a teasing lilt as he chuckled into his wine cup. “He’s going to disown us both.
He finally has the child he has always wanted.” Nodding to Brienne, Jaime smiled and returned to
chuckling into his drink.

Rolling her eyes, Brienne attempted to redirect their focus. She pushed the cup of wine away from
Jaime’s mouth and captured his attention. “What do you think he really wants?”

Tyrion leaned in and spoke conspiratorially. “What if… he wants to bond with us.”

The brothers erupted into laughter at the words, both shaking their heads as though it was the most
absurd idea ever. Jaime wiped at the tears slipping from his eyes. “Gods. Could you imagine. What
would be next? Dragons back in Westeros?”

The sun was starting to set and Jaime knew it was time to leave the ladies. He yawned slightly at
looked just behind them. I would rather stay here and curl up with my wench. Do consortly things
to her.

It seemed that Tyrion had the same realization of the hour. He sighed heavily and turned to Sansa,
a small smile at his lips. “My lady, I leave you to enjoy your dinner with the most liked Lannister.
By the end of this meal, she may be your only sibling left.”

Sansa rolled her eyes, but a fond smile tugged at her lips. Jaime considered the last few weeks.
There seemed to be a softening in the young woman. She was warmer towards Tyrion than she had
been previously. It was as though a wall had come down between the pair and Jaime hoped they
could at least find friendship in their situation.

Leaning to Brienne, Jaime clung to her waist and nuzzled against her belly. “It’s your papa.
Remember me fondly little one. I bequeath to you my golden hand and Widow’s Wail, which you
should definitely rename.”

Brienne patted his head soothingly. “Go be nice to your father and do try not to piss him off.”

Smiling widely as he sat upright, Jaime kissed her lips and whispered into her ear. “Don’t go to
sleep without me. I’ll need someone to tend my wounds.”

With a playful swat to his arm, Brienne pushed him off to join Tyrion. The brothers made their
way to the door and Jaime took a final look over his shoulder at the women. They were already
chatting happily together and Jaime smiled inwardly at the sight.

Walking towards Tywin’s room, the brothers spoke on a variety of topics. The walk between his
room and Tywin’s was no too long and they soon arrived at Tywin’s door. Gods. Don’t let this be
an evening-long fight. With a teasing look to Tyrion, Jaime knocked and waited for his father’s
gruff voice to yell at them to enter.

They waited outside impatiently, but no sound came from within. Jaime knocked again and sighed.
“Off to a great start.” When still no answer came, Jaime’s brows furrowed. “He did say his room,
correct?”

Tyrion’s confusion mirrored Jaime’s. Tywin was never late to anything. He considered it poor
form and was constantly berating everyone if they were on time. On time is already a moment too
late.

Something is wrong. What if something happened?

Pushing open the door to Tywin’s room, Jaime moved inside quickly to ensure Tywin hadn’t fallen
unconscious somewhere. “Father?” Still no answer nor sign of Tywin. Tyrion was at Jaime’s back
and looking just as worried.

“This is very unlike him.” Tyrion’s words came out as though in slow motion. The fading light of
the sun began to cast long shadows across the furniture.

“I’ll go check Genna’s room.” Jaime walked quickly into the hallway and two doors down.
Knocking loudly, Jaime looked around the hall before movement inside caught his attention. A
flustered looking Genna pulled open the door. As her eyes landed on Jaime, an inquisitive
expression passed over her features.

“Jaime. What is it, child? I’m about to meet Olenna for supper.”

“Tyrion and I were to meet father here for supper. He isn’t there.” At Jaime’s words, Genna’s eyes
went wide in shock. “You’re certain he said to meet in his room?”

A panicked looking Tyrion emerged from the room. “The dinner…”

“Oh, by the Gods, Tyrion. We can eat later. Something is wrong.” Jaime’s voice was thick with
irritation at his brother’s single-mindedness.

Looking to Jaime slowly, Tyrion shook his head. “No, Jaime. The dinner isn’t in the room. The
staff would have brought it up. No one has tended to his room.”

Seven hells… he’s right.

Genna grabbed Jaime’s arm. “Call the guards. Have the men hold the kitchen staff that is still here.
Who is with Brienne?”

Brienne.

Panic bubbled in Jaime and Tyrion immediately saw it in his eyes. “Jaime. Stay calm. We just left
the room and they’re fine. There are two Kingsguard stationed outside the room. You go alert the
Kingsguard. I’ll have the castle guards hold the staff and search the Keep.”

Without wasting another moment, Jaime jogged back to his room. He told Ser Boros of the
situation and the knight took off to alert the others. Moving into the room, Jaime saw that the staff
had just brought up their food.

“Don’t eat that!” Until they ruled out involvement of the kitchen staff, Jaime didn’t want either
Sansa or Brienne eating anything from the kitchens.
The women looked to Jaime in confusion. A slight chuckle pushed past Brienne’s lips. “I’m not
sharing with you Jaime. I finally got my appetite back. Surely dinner with your father can’t have
been that poor of a start.”

“He’s missing.”

At Jaime’s words, Brienne stood from the balcony and walked to him. “Missing?”

Jaime relayed what very little they knew. From behind Brienne, Sansa moved slowly towards
them. Her brows knitted in worry. “You should close the gates.”

A knock came at the door and Jaime opened it to reveal Genna. “Jaime. Go on now. I’ll stay with
the girls. Find your father.”

“I’m coming too.” Brienne spoke in a tone that brokered no argument and she moved quickly to
grab her sword. Taking his own, Jaime looked to her and spoke imploringly. “Please, just stay here.
This isn’t a battle right now. We’re just going to look for him.”

“No. I’m coming too.” Moving around the bed, Jaime stepped before Brienne.

“Please, Brienne.” Judging by the look on her face, Jaime knew it was a losing battle. He instead
played to her sense of honor. “Keep Lady Sansa safe. I’m certain he is in the Keep somewhere.
We’ll find him and this will all be for nothing.”

Genna moved to Jaime’s side and took a deep breath. “He has the right of it. My brother is getting
older. The big dolt probably fell somewhere and knocked himself unconscious. You keep me and
Sansa safe, just in case.”

With a glance to Sansa, Brienne’s shoulders sagged. “Get my father. He’ll help you.”

Jaime smiled teasingly. “I wouldn’t dream of leaving Sel out from the search party. They’re
probably off together at the tavern somewhere, raising hells.”

Before Brienne could protest, Jaime was out of the room and moving down the hallway. The
Kingsguard were already moving quickly to the room to stand guard outside. A wave of relief
rushed through Jaime as he made his way to the main level.

The small council was in the throne room speaking urgently with Tyrion. Selwyn was with them
looking concerned over whatever was being discussed.

At Jaime’s approach, Olenna spoke to him hurriedly. “Is the Queen safe? Are the Kingsguard with
her?”

“Yes, what’s going on? Do we know where my father is?”

Varys bowed his head slightly. “My lord, the guards are looking through the keep now. The gates
have been closed, but no one has seen him in some time. At our Lord Hand’s request, the kitchen
staff are being rounded up now. They should be brought here shortly.”

Tyrion spoke quietly among their group. “Alice is the head cook from Tarth. We should first ask
her who was to bring up the food to my father’s room. Whoever had the task, did not complete it.
That is where we start.”

Thank the Gods for Tyrion. I would just start cutting through people.
When the kitchen staff were soon brought into the throne room, Tyrion pulled a worried looking
Alice aside. Jaime stood beside them and listened to Tyrion explain the situation quietly. The
woman’s brows rose to her hairline. She leaned in and said a single name. “Cera.”

Tyrion smiled warmly and grabbed Alice’s arm. “Would you be so kind as to cook something up
for our queen and my wife? Jaime didn’t feel comfortable with them eating what was brought up if
it was not by your hand and untouched by others.”

Alice nodded. “Of course, my lord. I’ll deliver it myself.”

As Alice moved out from the room, the rest of the staff stood in a line. Tyrion stood before them;
hands clasped behind his back. The small council and Lord Selwyn stood beside him
commandingly.

“Cera.” Tyrion’s voice was confident yet calm. The middle-aged woman took a tentative step
forward; her eyes darting to the guards around the room.

Jaime’s hand itched to grab his sword and form his own inquisition, but he understood that there
was always a method to Tyrion’s madness.

“We can do this the easy way or the difficult way. We know your role in this plot against my
father, Lord Tywin.” Tyrion gave off an exaggerated sigh. “I told the queen’s father here to let me
solve this gently, but he is in quite a mood.”

At Tyrion’s words, Selwyn took a menacing step forward. His shoulders squared and his face was
a storm. Definitely a genetic scowl. Smart of Tyrion to call on him in this. Smart of Selwyn to play
the part.

As Cera’s eyes looked to Selwyn, she began to sob. The woman dropped to her knees and begged
mercy. A flicker of victory flashed in Tyrion’s eyes, but he gave nothing away.

“M’lord. I’m sorry. They made me. Please, mercy.”

Tyrion took a step forward and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. He whispered to the woman’s
ear and she glanced back at someone else in the line. As Tyrion followed her eyeline, a younger
woman with long, blonde hair took a step back from the line before turning to run for the door.

Idiot. Do you really think you’ll get out?

The guards grabbed her quickly and pulled her kicking and screaming back to the front of the
room. “Fuck you, Cera! Couldn’t keep ya mouth shut!”

Tyrion looked down at the woman and shook his head. “Now Tanda, that is not the easy way.
Mayhap a week in the black cells will change your mind. Guards, take her.”

The guards removed the woman from the room and Tyrion turned his attention back to Cera. “Any
others among you?” Cera shook her head in denial.

“Good. That matches the information we have. Now, tell me who took him.” Took him? Jaime
could never tell what Tyrion actually knew as opposed to what he was able to accurately guess at.

“The men from the Stormlands m’lord. The ones from Stannis’ army that were kept in the guard
after the Battle of the Blackwater.”

Cersei’s words from when she introduced Ronnet at the feast came back to Jaime. “As it so
happens, we have some reformed Stormlanders here who joined our ranks after the Battle on the
Blackwater.” Ronnet fucking Connington. That shit.

Jaime moved quickly to Tyrion’s side. “For how long has Ronnet been coming to you or Tanda?”

The woman’s face was tear-stained as she sobbed. “I don’t know where they get their information
from. I only know that it comes from Lord Baelish. Ronnet and his men have been seekin’ me or
Tanda out for updates since Lord Baelish left the capital. When Tanda told him ya were gunna
have a private dinner tonight, Tanda said don’t bother sendin’ up the food. I swear me lord. I didn’t
know what they would do. Tanda made me give information to Ronnet and the others when she
wasn’t on shift.”

Tyrion sighed and ran a hand over his face. “Why is Tanda helping them? And don’t lie to me.
We’ll find out.”

“Ronnet and the other men from the Stormlands are loyal to Stannis. Tanda is from Baelish’s
brothel and she knows those men. Lord Baelish brought her to the keep before he left the capital.
She told me that if I didn’t help, Baelish’s men would come after me family. Please m’lord. My
kids need me. My husband died last year. I’m all they got.”

With a heavy sigh, Tyrion looked to the small council before returning his gaze to Cera. “What
else can you tell us? Where are they taking my father?”

“I don’t know m’lord.”

Jaime felt his blood boil. Fucking Baelish.

A knowing look settled over Tyrion’s face. “Guards, these women are dismissed. I want Cera
placed under house arrest. Escort her home and station men outside her home.”

Tyrion looked back to Cera. “I only do this because you cooperated and have children waiting for
you. If you try to contact Baelish or anyone else without our knowledge, it will be your head.
You’ve committed treason and you will face punishment. Do you understand?”

“Yes m’lord. I understand. Thank ya.”

The guards removed Cera from the room and Tyrion turned to face them. With a deep sigh, he
appraised their group. “I think I know what Baelish wants.”
 A Call to War
Chapter Summary

Tyrion thinks of a plan. They find out where Tywin is.

Tyrion sat in the small council room and sighed heavily. It had been 10 days since Tywin was
taken and they still had not received word from Baelish nor the Boltons. The banners had been
called and the last of the men from Dorne had begun arriving that morning. All told, they had
50,000 men amassed from the Reach, Dorne, the West and the Stormlands.

The West’s forces had already been in the Crownlands as they were supposed to depart with Tywin
for Casterly Rock. Only a small number of the West’s numbers had remained in the West to guard
the Rock and various holdings throughout the kingdom.

Looking to the makeshift map on the table, Tyrion pointed to the Neck. “We should attack here. It
is likely that they are amassing their forces and using that location to converge.”

Jaime shook his head and sighed. “The narrow landscape removes the advantage of our numbers.
We need to spread them out and draw them further south.”

“By the Gods lets just go North! I could have taken the Stormlands there and back by now.”
Tyrion glanced to Selwyn and watched the man’s face flush in anger.

He was a man of action and sitting idle in the capital while Tywin was being held in captivity
somewhere was not high on Selwyn’s list of acceptable things pastimes.

“Father, you can’t just move in blindly. We could get Tywin killed doing that.”

It wasn’t often that Brienne voiced an opinion, but when she did, Tyrion often found himself
appreciative of it. Where Jaime and Selwyn were rash thinkers and quick to run straight into the
Stranger’s hands, Brienne was more methodical in her approach. Like her fight with the Mountain,
she wanted to test her enemy first and consider the approach before taking action.

As they looked back to the board, Varys came walking quickly into the room. He held a missive in
hand and approached Brienne; an ominous expression graced his face. “Your Grace.” With a bow,
the spider handed the missive to Brienne.

“Thank you, Lord Varys.” The queen offered a kind smile as she patted Varys’ arm. Tyrion
marveled at how kind she was to the household staff, nobility, and soldiers. His father would have
ripped the missive from Varys’ hands and asked what took so long.

Brienne’s brows furrowed in confusion. “Jaime. This has your House seal.” Showing the missive to
Jaime, Brienne’s eyes grew wary. Brienne broke the seal and scanned the letter. Her shoulders
sagged as she read and when she looked back to them, it was obvious who the letter was from.
With a deep breath, Brienne read the missive aloud.

To the false queen,

I’ve reclaimed my ancestral seat and have called my banners. My father has given much thought to
his previous poor decisions and has made some amendments. I am to lead the Rock while he
spends some time thinking on his poor judgement of his chosen kin.

I do hope he is able to find rest in his newly assigned chambers. Clearly, he has been unwell in the
capital and forgot himself.

Four of your kingdoms are now in open rebellion. It matters not which bastard’s womb you
crawled out from. I am the rightful queen of the Seven Kingdoms. You want your precious
goodfather back? Come and get him.

Cersei Lannister

Lady of Casterly Rock

Rightful Queen of the Seven Kingdoms

“Calling Tywin ‘precious’ is a bit dramatic.” Jaime’s tone was light despite the heaviness of letter.

Tyrion sighed and took the letter from Brienne’s hand. “I did not expect the Rock. It doesn’t make
any sense. I knew they would want father alive for some reason, but why the Rock? She can’t
possibly think the West will follow her whether she is physically there or not.”

Considering the various scenarios, Tyrion kicked an idea around in his mind. “Unless…”

All eyes fell on him as he looked to the map. “Jaime. How many men do the North, Vale, and
Riverlands have?”

Jaime huffed and raised his eyes to the ceiling as he searched for an answer. “The North lost many
in the war with our family. I would venture no more than 10,000-15,000 remain. The Vale can’t
have more than 10,000 themselves. The Riverlands’ forces would just be Walder’s. 4,000 at best. I
can’t fathom anyone else in the Riverlands would follow with this nonsense. It doesn’t make any
sense.”

“No, it doesn’t. That’s why they’re not alone.” At Tyrion’s words, everyone looked to him. His
mind was already turning as he looked back to the map. “Tywin was taken by some rogue
Stormlanders. Men who were captured after the Battle of the Blackwater. Cera said they were still
loyal to Stannis. He must have purchased an army across the Narrow Sea.”

Walking to some scrolls on the table, Tyrion unrolled a map of Essos. “Jaime. What are the largest
sellsword companies in Essos?”

Looking to Jaime expectantly, Tyrion waited for his brother to rattle them off. Jaime sighed and
began to name the largest of the Essos mercenaries. “The Golden Company is the largest, but also
the most expensive. Likely too expensive for Stannis’ purse. Then there are the Second Sons and
the Stormcrows. The Lost Legion is a more well-known group too.”

Varys spoke confidently from beside Brienne. “The Second Sons fight with Daenerys Targaryen.
Stannis will not have had access to them.”

I’m sorry, what? I’ll need to ask Varys of this later.

Tyrion took a step back towards the group and hummed in consideration. He scratched at his chin
and considered everything. “Jaime’s right. The Golden Company are too expensive. Stannis might
have been able to get a loan to secure the Stormcrows. Do we know how many they have?”

Jaime huffed a laugh. “Last I knew, they only have 500 despite being strong fighters. That is
hardly enough.”

“No, I think not. They’ll have needed to secure multiple mercenaries or another we’re not
considering. They know how many men we have among our kingdoms. They’ll need to rival it.”

It didn’t make sense to Tyrion. The northern kingdoms didn’t have the numbers. How were they
planning to pull this off?

Tyrion grunted in irritation. “We can’t move all of our men from the city. We need half the forces
here to protect the queen. I don’t want us falling into a trap. Even if we send half the army to the
West, our 30,000 should still match anything Baelish and the Boltons have pulled together.
Something is wrong here. I’m missing it and I can’t see it. Seven hells!”

Unexpectedly, Sansa spoke from the corner of the room. “Maybe that’s all the are trying to do. To
draw us out. There must be some reason they want this city other than the bloody chair. Baelish
isn’t stupid. He wants to draw us out for a reason. What would he want King’s Landing aside from
its significance? Is there some form of defense here that he can use against our army when we
return?”

Jaime shouted at her words. “That’s it! The wildfire. He wants us out of the city to access it. They
wouldn’t need even half of our numbers if he had wildfire.”

Gods. They’ve got it. They want us to leave the city defenseless so they can claim it. Then they’ll
have the deadliest weapon there is.

“Well I’m going West! The rest of you can fight it out for who joins me.” Selwyn sat down in a
huff and crossed his arms.

Jaime sat beside Selwyn and mimicked his posture; a wide smile on his face. “I’m going too!”

“No. You need to stay with the Queen. I’ll go.” At Tyrion’s words, Jaime guffawed.

“Surely, you can be serious. Tyrion, I’m a fighter. You’re a thinker. You stay here and keep
thinking. I’ll go with my goodfather here and hurt some people.”

With a wide smile, Tyrion looked to Sansa. “No, our queen will have Sansa’s brain which is just as
useful if not more so than mine. I on the other Hand know the Rock like no other. I know its
defenses. I know its weaknesses. I know its sewers.” A mischievous smile tugged at Tyrion’s lips
and Jaime chortled.

The reference was obvious. Tywin had assigned Tyrion a job befitting his status as the shit son. He
put Tyrion in charge of the sewers of Casterly Rock. Tyrion even made some improvements for
himself along the way to sneak his whores in and out of the castle.

“We’ll send half the army and we’ll lay siege to the castle… from the inside. Whatever forces
might be there won’t stand a chance. Not even my sister knows of the Rock’s various entrances that
I’m privy to. No pun intended.”

Visions of Lann the Clever swam in Tyrion’s mind. I can do this. I can lead the men into the Rock,
free my father, and remove Cersei from power. As Selwyn would say, I’ll even be home in time for
supper.
“I can do this, Jaime. You know I can. Let me lead your men.” Tyrion’s tone was imploring.

Jaime sighed and looked to Brienne. “I suppose you’re stuck with me. You, me, and Sansa. It’s
going to be great. Think of all the fun we’ll have!”

Tyrion clapped his hands eagerly. “Yes! I’ll take the Stormlands and the West. We’ll keep the
forces of the Reach and Dorne to guard the queen. Selwyn, my friend. What do you say? Time to
punch someone?”

Selwyn stood from his chair and grabbed his belt. “Bring your dagger boy! Time for some fun!”

As they finished planning, Olenna and Genna walked into the room. Genna’s eyes went wide in
fear at the awaiting smiles from their group. “Gods, no. What have you all done or decided to do? I
told you to wait for us!”

“Mother have mercy. They’ve been thinking independently. We’re all to meet the Stranger now.”
Olenna’s voice mirrored Genna’s feigned horror.

Tyrion chuckled and looked to their group. “I would love to stay and listen to you complain of our
plans, but I need to speak with my dear friend Varys here. I’ll leave the rest of the group to explain
the strategy.” Tyrion gave an imploring look to Sansa.

Please. Don’t let Jaime try to explain this. Gods only know what nonsense he’ll say.

Tyrion guided the Spider towards his room. They made idle conversation along the way before
arriving at Tyrion’s door.

Once they entered, Tywin offered Varys a seat and some wine. Waving off the wine, Varys leaned
back in his chair and looked to Tyrion curiously. With a wide smile, Tyrion patted Varys’ arm
before sitting back in his seat. “We need to discuss your communication with Daenerys Targaryen.”

Varys’ brows rose at the words. “What of it?”

With a huff of laughter, Tyrion poured himself some wine and took a long sip. “I hear the rumors.
She is amassing an army across the Narrow Sea. I’m no fool. Do you side with her?”

A small smile tugged at Varys’ lips. “I did. Had our queen not taken the crown, I was going to flee
across the Narrow Sea and treat with Daenerys. I’ve been in communication with her for some time
now. I only want what is best for the realm. Queen Brienne is best option for Westeros.”

Tyrion trusted Varys. He would never trust the man fully, but in this, he did.

“Good, because I think it is time the queen meets her kin. We have something of value to Daenerys
here.”

Varys’ brows rose at the words. “What might that be?”

“Revenge.”

A chuckle escaped Varys and he shook his head. “Revenge for what?”

“Stannis. House Baratheon. Baelish will select Stannis as the man to align with. Stannis will be
who they back for the crown. We’ll see if this Daenerys has a thirst for revenge. Her father was
removed by a Baratheon. I doubt she’ll want to her of another Targaryen being taken down by
another Baratheon. Littlefinger undoubtedly used the Boltons and Freys to take the Rock. He
won’t be there. Littlefinger will take the Vale and march south with Stannis. Those staying here
will be in a war. Of that I am certain. It isn’t ideal to split our forces as we are, but it is the only
way. We need to let Stannis and Littlefinger think they have a chance. They won’t believe that if
we keep more than half the forces here. Spies in the city will need to believe we are defenseless
enough to attack.”

Varys nodded at his words and shrugged. “Daenerys might agree, but what if she wants the crown
for herself instead?”

“We’ll offer her Dragonstone; the seat of Targaryen power before Stannis took it. It is inevitable
that we treat with her anyway. Yes, rumor is she wants the throne, but if we can ally ourselves with
her and try to compromise, then we will further secure Queen Brienne’s crown. If we share
Brienne’s lineage, we can only hope that she is more inclined to want to make peace with kin than
destroy the last family she has in this world.”

With a nod, Varys considered Tyrion’s plan. “She has Ser Barristan with her. He is loyal to the
Targaryen crown and he knows of the secret agreement at Summerhall. He is a good man and will
support what is right. He will know that Brienne is heir and can encourage Daenerys to ally with
her. I’ll get correspondence to them immediately.”

“Yes, please hurry, my friend. Stannis is coming. I don’t know how long the capital has to
prepare.”
 A Captivated Audience
Chapter Summary

Tywin reflects as he confronts his captors.

Chapter Notes

Warning: This chapter has graphic descriptions of torture in it. Maybe skip the last few
Ramsay paragraphs if that isn't your thing. I just realized the tags could use some
updated as I never included some of this detail.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

Tywin’s eyes fluttered open at the sound of the cell door’s creaky hinges. The past fortnight had
been a blur. His captors kept him hooded through their travels and his mouth was gagged to
prevent Tywin from calling out for aid.

It wasn’t until they reached their destination that Tywin knew where he was. He didn’t need to see
the Rock to recognize it. The smell of the sea pushed past the porous fabric covering his head. The
familiar incline of the Rock’s entrance and the distinct sound of the waves crashing into the cliffs
confirmed his suspicions.

His first visitors in the cells underneath the main keep came only from guards offering little more
than stale bread and filthy water. Inspecting the sigils adorning their attire, Tywin could see that
they were Bolton’s men.

Fool. He thinks he can hold the Rock? What good of it? The West won’t bow to him.

Tywin’s first visit from Cersei came over a week after his arrival. Unlike her appearance at trial,
she appeared put together and well-rested. Her hair was neatly pulled back in braids and she wore
clean attire befitting her station. The sneer he had come to associate with Cersei of late seemed
permanently etched to her face.

“It seems you’ve made some regrettable decisions of late. I fear your inept choices may cost you
with your life. That… or the life of your chosen kin. You will command the West to follow my
orders or I will kill that cow you’ve put on the throne. I’ll give you some time to think it over.”

Her visit was as short as her tone. Turning on heel, Cersei had left Tywin sitting unamused on the
dingy bed in the cramped cell.

Now as the door opened, Tywin knew without looking that it was Cersei. She was flanked by
Roose Bolton and a younger man who Tywin could not place.

“Father, I’ve come to see if you’re feeling more yourself. I do hope you plan to make the correct
decision this time. Before you give your answer, let me reintroduce you to the Warden of the North
and Lord of Winterfell, Roose Bolton. I don’t know why that little monster and Sansa fancy
themselves entitled to Winterfell, but they will never again see the North. A Stark however will
unite the kingdom. We have Arya. She is betrothed to Ramsay Bolton; Roose’s recently
legitimized son.”

A sneer spread across the young man’s face as he looked to Tywin. Something about the man
unsettled Tywin.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Lord Tywin. I’ve heard so much about you. I do believe we could have
a lot of fun getting to know one another. My father tells me that you’re to make a decision before
we get acquainted. For my sake, I do hope you decide well.”

A chill ran through Tywin’s spine. He knew of the Bolton’s reputation and penchant for torture.
The implication hung heavy in the air.

Roose’s cold tone echoed off the cell walls. “Lord Tywin. It’s a pleasure to see you again. I do
wish this could have been under better circumstances, but you’ve put me in quite the position. Your
newly appointed sovereigns have a most unfortunate history with my House. Had I known you
would have debased yourself to ally with such a beast, I would have given my man Locke entirely
different instructions for how to handle her.”

Tywin stood from his seat. He swayed slightly from the lack of food and clean water. Despite his
disheveled state and the stink emanating off his person, he tilted up his chin defiantly.

“You will not insult nor threaten my daughter. The queen of the Seven Kingdoms. I will never
charge the West with moving against my children. Queen Brienne Lannister of Tarth will see you
swaying from the battlements when all is said and done.”

He knew it was foolish to speak in such a manner to those holding his life in their hands, but he
cared not. He was Tywin fucking Lannister and these cretins would not insult his family. His pride.

With a sigh, Cersei feign disappointment. “You used to be an intelligent and powerful man, father.
I fear for what you’ve become. It’s a good thing mother isn’t alive to see you now. She would be
disgusted.”

At the mention of Joanna, Tywin surged forward towards his daughter; his body humming with
rage. Before he could meet her, Roose and Ramsay stepped before him. “Now, now Lord Tywin.
That is no way to approach the Lady of the Rock.”

“The Lady of the Rock is quite a way for here. Her name is Sansa Lannister. Her husband, my son
and heir, Tyrion Lannister is Lord of the Rock.”

Cersei gasped at the words and recoiled as if struck. “What!? How could you! He killed mother!
That fucking vile creature destroyed everything, and you would degrade us by naming him heir!”

With a snide smile, Tywin met Cersei’s eyes. “I thought you were a Baratheon?”

A vicious snarl pulled at Cersei’s lips. She held Tywin’s gaze and spoke through gritted teeth. “I
am Cersei Baratheon of House Lannister. Lady of Casterly Rock. Warden of the West. Rightful
queen of the Seven Kingdoms. I will recover my crown. I will make you watch as we slowly rip
apart your chosen children. Then we will come for you. In the meantime, I do hope you enjoy
getting to know Ramsay. I’ve seen some of his work and don’t worry, we have Qyburn to ensure
you remain alive long enough to witness your House’s demise.”

Turning on heel, Cersei stormed from the cell. Roose quickly followed and left Ramsay staring
menacingly at Tywin. “I’ll be back soon, my lord. I just need to finish up next door with Tyrion’s
whore. She wasn’t as much fun as I thought she would be. I do hate when people bore me. You
won’t bore me, will you Lord Tywin?”

With a sneer, the young man didn’t wait for an answer. He stormed out of the cell and slammed
the door behind him.

Tywin let out a shaky breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. He would bend, but he would not
break. Cersei would never have his support nor cooperation. They could do what they wanted to
him, but all Tywin cared about was the safety of his children in King’s Landing.

He knew the Boltons could not be working alone in this. With Baelish likely at their side, that still
didn’t give them half the forces of the crown.

They can’t get to Brienne and Jaime. They can’t get to Tyrion and Sansa. They’ll kill me, but my
house will live on and grow strong. Stronger than I could make it.

Tywin sat on the edge of the bed and wondered if his capture concerned his sons.

I’ve treated them terribly. I would hardly expect them to call the banners for me. They’re just as
likely to send a note of thanks to the Boltons.

Tywin thought on his relationship with Jaime. He had badgered him for years to ‘be the man he
was meant to be’ as though he was not already.

I deemed his worth on his ability to wed and give me heirs. On his desire to sit at this castle and
play lord. I never saw him.

I never considered how his eyes lit up watching melees as a boy. At how he craved affection from
everyone; particularly Genna when Joanna passed. At how he trailed after Cersei everywhere. At
how lost he despaired after Aerys.

The thought stirred something in him. Jaime was happy then; before Aerys. He smiled and
pestered the knights in my army for stories of battle. Gods, I sent him off to meet Lysa Tully, and
Lord Holster told me how he spent the entire time peppering his brother with questions of the War
of the Ninepenny Kings.

He wanted to be one of them. A great knight. He was always honorable. Too honorable to carry
out what I asked of my men. Why did he kill Aerys? Why didn’t I ask?

Tywin thought on his relationship with Tyrion. He had deemed him unfit from the moment he was
born. His birth was not celebrated. It came at the expense of Tywin’s true love and the image he
desired for his House.

The maester told Tywin of Tyrion’s condition and Tywin despised the babe for it. He hated Tyrion
for something he could control no more than his need to eat. He overlooked Tyrion in youth.
Neglected to see his remarkable intelligence.

Tyrion was with mind what Jaime was with a sword.

I never saw him either.

I never considered how he could carry this House. How he could outthink and outmaneuver
anyone who dare challenge us. The boy read before his older brother and was learning Valyrian
before the twins mastered the common tongue.
Tywin reflected on how he let everyone speak to his youngest son. I let them treat him as a
lowborn… no, worse. I let them mock him and spit on the ground he walked. I fueled it. Their
words mirrored my own.

Tywin growled in irritation at himself. They are strong despite me. Not because of me.

Time held no meaning in the cells. Tywin sat alone with his thoughts. When he was done chiding
himself, his thoughts turned to Joanna. At least I’ll die where she died. We can be together in death
at the Rock. I’m coming Joanna. Please forgive me for failing our children.

Soon the door creaked open again. Two guards walked in followed by the Bolton boy. His smile
was as vicious as his intentions likely were.

“Lord Tywin. I’m so pleased that we didn’t need to wake you. Guards, I suppose we won’t need
that horse piss. Well… on second thought, we did make the effort to procure it. It would be such a
shame to waste the effort. Go on then.”

A bucket with yellow fluid was flung at Tywin. The warm liquid splattered on his face and into his
mouth, nose, and eyes. Bile rose in Tywin’s throat at the taste and smell.

“Chain the prisoner. I would hate for him to be difficult and require more severe discipline than
planned.” At Ramsay’s words, the guards stepped forward and placed Tywin’s wrists in chains.
They grabbed him by the arms and led him from the small cell, into the hallway.

Tywin knew every inch of the Rock. When they began walking down the corridor and made a left,
he knew that they meant to take him to a larger holding cell used to interrogate and torture
prisoners. This cell was of my own design. I let monsters like the Mountain use whatever means
necessary to do my bidding.

Stepping into the room, Tywin huffed a bitter laugh. It was a room that he conceived yet never
visited. Just as he cared little to see how his dinner was prepared, he cared not how his officers
procured the information he sought. Various instruments of torture lined the walls. Taking the
sight, Tywin shook his head in shame.

Tywin was pushed into a seat and his feet were chained to the floor. His arms were placed atop the
table before him as Ramsay took some type of instrument off the wall. Ramsay’s eyes glistened; a
feral look clouded his features. “Do you know what this is, Lord Tywin?”

When Tywin did not respond, the Bolton boy walked over slowly like a predator stalking its prey.
“We have them at the Dreadfort. We use them to remove fingernails from guests who irritate us.”

Without another word Ramsay grabbed hold of Tywin’s wrist. A vicious snarl pulled at his lips as
he used the instrument as described. He tore a fingernail clear off Tywin’s ring finger on the right
hand.

Refusing to give the man the satisfaction of crying out, Tywin bit his tongue and gasped at the
sharp pain. Something unreadable flashed across Ramsay’s face. Then a wide smile spread across
his lips. “Oh, I do love this game. Lets see how much you can take before crying out.”

Ramsay removed two more fingernails from Tywin’s right hand and still, Tywin refused to cry out.
Looking at his nailbeds, Tywin choked back a scream. The fingers bled profusely as Ramsay tore
chunks of tissue away while removing each nail.

Walking back to the wall, Ramsay’s head tilted in interest. “I must say, you have a decent room
here. Of course, I have much more to work with at home.”
 Ramsay grabbed a small jagged dagger from the wall. He flipped the dagger side to side in his
hand, inspecting the blade. He studied the edges and smiled. “You know, my dear friend Locke
told me much of your boy and his whore. A shame they couldn’t be here to enjoy this. Soon
enough, I suppose.”

Stalking back towards Tywin, Ramsay appraised him. The boy leaned into Tywin’s face. His lips
inches from Tywin’s ear. “I understand those fingers of yours pointed blame at my House and the
Freys for the Red Wedding. Always so quick to blame others for your ideas. Lets ensure you can’t
do that again.”

Ramsay began to saw off each finger on Tywin’s right hand. Try as he might, Tywin could not hold
back the choked sobs that filled his throat. He bit down so hard on his tongue that he nearly
chomped through. The taste of his own blood trickled down his throat.

The room began to spin as he looked down at his fingerless hand.

“Oh no. You’re not going to fall asleep on me, are you? That is no fun at all. Should I call for more
horse piss?”

Tywin’s upper body swayed at the table and nearly fell from the chair. Ramsay walked slowly to
the wall and removed an ax. “Locke told me that his favorite memory from his time in the
Riverlands was when your son cried out to stop the intended rape of his whore. I imagine he
looked like you did earlier. Locke said your son was arrogant and boastful. My man put an end to
that. I wonder, will you cry like a babe as your son did?”

Ramsay stepped back and swing the ax down hard on Tywin’s wrist, severing Tywin’s right hand.
With a cry loud enough to shake the Rock itself, Tywin’s eyes went wide and his voice echoed off
the walls at the sight of his severed hand. Then, the world went black again.

Chapter End Notes

Note on Arya: I will not see this poor child touched by Ramsay despite how they are
planning to use her to keep the North at heel. Ramsay has not and will not touch her,
but she is being held at the Rock.
 A Cousin from Across the Sea
Chapter Summary

Daenerys arrives in King's Landing. Brienne meets her kin and exposes some truths.

Brienne hummed into Jaime’s neck as he softened inside her. As the room came back into focus,
Brienne’s breathing slowed, and her sated eyes sought out Jaime’s. Their coupling had not slowed
on account of Jaime’s ‘duties’ being fulfilled. If anything, both seemed needier of late.

“Jaime. We need to get out of bed. Its quite late.”

With a dramatic whimper, Jaime flipped them over so that he was on top. “I don’t want to. Lets just
stay here and make more babes.”

Brienne huffed a laugh as she stared at the ceiling; his face buried in the pillow beside her head. “I
don’t think it works that way.”

Pulling back his head to look at her, Jaime feigned shock. “Wench! Truly, I worry after your
education. Did your septa teach you nothing? We can just keep making babes. They simply come
out in intervals.”

It was her favorite game. Pretending to go along with whatever absurd statement came out of his
mouth. “Oh, yes. I do recall her saying something of that. She did warn that there should be no
more than seven at a time growing at various stages.”

Jaime nodded dramatically in agreement. “Yes, of course. After the Seven themselves. Truly I
don’t know what you would do without me to remind you how things work.”

Before Brienne could continue the game, a knock came at the door. It was difficult to have any
personal time with Tyrion away. All matters came directly to her and there seemed to be an infinite
number of them.

Moving from the bed, Jaime grabbed her hand. “Ignore it. It’s likely someone who wants
something.”

With a snort, Brienne rolled her eyes and glanced back at him. “Odd how people seek you out
when they want something.”

“Just leave it. They’re interrupting our making babe number two.”

Slipping from the bed, Brienne threw on a tunic and breeches before moving towards the door. She
glanced back to ensure Jaime wasn’t laying there on the bed with a half hard cock and his legs
splayed.

When Brienne pulled back the door, she was unsurprised to see Varys on the other side. The man
bowed and kept his hands concealed under his robes. “Your Grace, our guest has arrived and
awaits your presence in the throne room.”

“Our guest? Were we expecting someone?” Brienne’s brows furrowed slightly as she met Varys’
eyes.

With an equally perplexed expression, Varys’ eyes darted to the side. “Did Lord Tyrion not tell you
of his extended invitation before he left?”

Before Brienne could answer, Jaime was at her side. Naked as his nameday and munching on some
grapes, he leaned against the door. “What’s this now?”

“Oh by the Gods, Jaime! Put some clothing on!” Moving to block him from Varys’ view, she cast
an apologetic look at the Master of Whisperers.

“Before Lord Tyrion left, he requested that I write your cousin and invite her to the capital.”

More confused than before, Brienne shook her head as though trying to clear whatever clouded her
thinking. “My cousin? I don’t have a cousin.”

Varys huffed a laugh and nodded. “Daenerys Targaryen. Distant cousin I suppose. Her father and
your mother were cousins in fact.”

“What!? My brother invited her here!? The woman whose father I killed?” Jaime was back at her
side, but thankfully had his breeches on. Any lightness previously gracing his tone was gone as he
looked to Varys in shock.

“Yes, my lord. Lord Tyrion thought it would be best to forge an alliance with her. Stannis is likely
marching on the city as we speak, and she has dragons. She brought them here in fact. I imagine its
how she arrived here in a fortnight. I can’t send a raven across the sea, so I had to send word by
ship.”

Jaime scoffed; his face incredulous. “And how do you know that she won’t try to kill my wife!? I
hear that she has a most unquenchable thirst for the crown.”

Gods. What was Tyrion thinking?

With a slight shrug, Varys considered Jaime’s words. “It is a risk, but Lord Tyrion and I do believe
that she is amenable to negotiations. She believes herself the last living dragon. It is a lonely world
without kin. Lord Tyrion also believes she will seek revenge against House Baratheon given
Robert’s Rebellion. Then there is the matter of Ser Barristan…”

“Ser Barristain? Ser Barristan Selmy is here? In the city?” Jaime’s voice changed from rage to
awe.

Looking to Jaime, Brienne questioned him. “Would that make a difference?”

Jaime nodded as he sighed. “He’s one of the most honorable men I’ve ever known. He would not
let her kill you if an invitation was extended. It isn’t in his nature. He is not fond of me though…”

Uncertainty clouded Jaime’s eyes and Brienne understood his worry. Jaime killed the girl’s father
and Ser Barristan served in Aerys’ Kingsguard.

Brienne looked back to Varys and nodded. “We will meet with them immediately. Just give us a
moment please.”

The Spider stepped back and bowed deeply as Brienne shut the door. With a heavy sigh, Brienne
turned to face Jaime who looked as though the ghost of Aerys had entered the room.
“I should probably stay here.”

“What? Why? You’re my husband.” Brienne moved to get properly dressed and listened as Jaime
sighed behind her.

“She might be more apt to forge an alliance with you if I’m not there.”

Brienne snorted and glanced back at him. “So shall we just hide you away for the rest of your
days? Pretend that I feel pregnant magically and that my name isn’t Brienne Lannister?”

Jaime smiled widely and approached. “All the more reason for me to laze about in bed. You can
just come by and use me anytime you wish. It’s my consortly duty.”

Removing any jape from her tone, Brienne met Jaime’s eyes. “You are my husband. I will not hide
you away to gain her aid. I care little if she chooses ignorance as to who you are and what you truly
did for Westeros.”

Pulling her into a kiss, Jaime cupped her jaw; rubbing her cheek with his thumb. As he broke the
kiss, Jaime rested his forehead against hers. “I won’t let her hurt you on my account.”

“Nor will I let her hurt you. Lets go before she decides to torch the keep with her dragons.”

They exited the room together and walked towards the throne room. Jaime slipped his hand into
hers and Brienne felt a warmth spread through her. With Jaime at her side, she always felt more
confident. She wasn’t political and prayed to the Seven that Varys or Sansa would handle the
talking.

When they arrived, Brienne took a steadying breath and moved directly towards the women. She
was young indeed, but not that much younger than Brienne. Daenerys’ hair was silver and braided.
Her eyes a deep violet. A true Targaryen if ever there was one.

Brienne could sense Jaime stiffen at her side. Dreams of Aerys still plagued him and Brienne
imagined that he saw too much of the Mad King for his liking.

As Brienne entered, the assembled members of the small council and Sansa bowed or curtseyed
respectfully. Varys introduced Brienne as she came to stand before Daenerys.

“Lady Daenerys, may I introduce Queen Brienne Lannister of Tarth. First of her Name, Queen of
the Andals and the First Men. Protector of the Realm.”

Brienne smiled warmly at Daenerys, but the sentiment was not returned. A young woman at
Daenerys’ side smiled tentatively and announced her lady.

“You stand in the presence of Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, rightful heir to the Iron
Throne, rightful queen of the Andals and the First Men, protector of the Seven Kingdoms, the
Mother of Dragons, the Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, the Unburnt, the Breaker of Chains.”

Jaime snorted and muttered under his breath. “Is that it then? How come her title is better than
yours?”

Keeping her eyes on Daenerys, Brienne spoke through clenched teeth for Jaime’s ears only.
“You’re not helping.”

Like a strutting peacock, Jaime puffed out his chest and spoke proudly as he looked to their guests.
“Well our queen beat the Mountain. Quite impressive. Didn’t even have a dragon to manage it.”
Gods. Mayhap he should have stayed in the room.

Extending her hand to Daenerys, Brienne offered a genuine smile. “It’s nice to meet you.”

The young woman looked to her hand and then to Ser Barristan. For his part, Ser Barristan was
staring at Brienne. His eyes wide in shock.

Gods. I must be a most unexpected and unsightly vision to take in. Daenerys is what a queen
should look like. Not me.

Retracting her hand at the dismissed offer, Brienne swallowed thickly. The small council gasped in
shock at the insult to their queen, but Brienne was hardly surprised. She began to fidget and looked
nervously between her guests.

“You have Arianna’s eyes.” Ser Barristan’s words filled the pregnant silence. His tone reverent and
his eyes misty. Then he smiled slightly and huffed a laugh. “And Ser Duncan’s height.”

A sad smile passed over Daenerys’ face. She grabbed the Barristan’s arm and inclined her head.
“Go on then.”

With a nod of thanks, Ser Barristan stepped forward and kneeled before Brienne. Brienne sucked
in a stunned breath and looked to Jaime who was equally perplexed. He shrugged slightly and
raised his brows.

Ser Barristan looked up at Brienne and smiled. “It’s an honor to meet you, your Grace. I lament
that I couldn’t do more to save your kin.”

Brienne smiled at the man. A true knight and childhood hero. “Every aspiring knight on Tarth
knows of your deeds Ser Barristan. My father has always been quite fond of you. It’s an honor to
meet you.”

Extending a hand to the knight, she was surprised when it was Daenerys who stepped forward and
took it. “Forgive me. I wasn’t certain what to believe. Ser Barristan would not lie though. If he
believes you true, then you are. He is a true knight.”

At the last words, Daenerys eyes darted to Jaime. Disdain passed over her features as she looked
him up and down. Looking back to Brienne, Daenerys’ eyes softened. “All my life, I’ve been told
that my line was heir to the throne. When my brother died, I believed myself the last living
Targaryen.”

Tilting her chin up, Brienne looked back at Jaime. Her love. Her honorable knight. “I imagine
you’ve been told many things that are in fact, wrong. It would be my honor to help correct them.”

Looking to Brienne challengingly, Daenerys eyes flashed with something dangerous. “Then tell
me… cousin. Why have you married the man who killed my father? Your kin. I would have his
head.”

Jaime sucked in a deep breath behind her. Taking a step back to stand shoulder to shoulder with
Jaime, Brienne held Daenerys’ gaze. She looked between Daenerys and Ser Barristan defiantly.
Then, Brienne turned to Ser Barristan and questioned him.

“Ser Barristan. It is my understanding that you are one of the truest knights remaining in Westeros.
You were Kingsguard to multiple kings and served them well. Tell me, did you ever ask your
brother-in-arms why he killed King Aerys?”
Barristan scoffed and looked to Jaime. “I had no need to ask him. He hardly denied it.”

“That’s not what I asked.” Brienne’s tone was curt and cold. A far cry from how she previously
addressed the revered knight.

Looking to Brienne in slight confusion, Barristan shook his head in denial. “I did not, your Grace.”

“Mayhap you should have. Mayhap someone should have. Prior to his slaying Aerys, what did you
think of the quality of his character?”

With a slight shrug, Barristan responded. “He was a boy. The youngest member of the Kingsguard
ever. It was difficult to say, but at the time, I believed him honorable.”

A slight smile tugged at Brienne’s lips. “Then you judged him correctly the first time. Aerys was
mad. Everyone knew it. You all stood by him though. You all allowed his madness to spread…
like wildfire.”

At her words, something flashed in Ser Barristan’s eyes. Jaime grabbed her arm and implored her
to stop. “It’s not worth it Brienne. Please, just stop.”

“No! They’ll know the truth of it. You all left Ser Jaime alone to guard the king. Just a boy? You
gave him the greatest responsibility. When the battle was all but won and House Targaryen
defeated, Aerys called for they pyromancer to light the wildfire caches under the city. He wanted to
burn everyone and everything. He was content to die on the throne rather than see anyone else sit
on it. Ser Jaime begged him not to. To surrender. When Aerys refused and gave the order, Ser
Jaime killed him and the pyromancer. What would you have done, Ser Barristan?”

The older knight’s jaw hung loosely. His eyes darted to Jaime who had shrunk in on himself.
Daenerys looked horrified at the information and looked to Barristan.

“Is it true, Ser Barristan?”

The young woman’s eyes were imploring, and the older knight struggled for words. “I didn’t
know. We all knew of his madness. His penchant for burning people. He was… unwell. I hardly
thought he would go to such an extreme, but… Summerhall. I never wanted to believe it true. Your
grandfather believed that your father had a hand in it. That he ordered it. It was wildfire that
consumed the rest of your kin.”

Daenerys gasped at the words and took a step back. Her eyes moved warily to Jaime. At her side,
Brienne could hear the whispers of the small council. Genna, Olenna, and Oberyn spoke in hushed
whispers to one another. Sansa had been standing to the side and looked on in shock at Jaime. Even
Varys seemed thrown off balance by the information.

Genna took a step forward and grabbed at Jaime’s arm. “Jaime. Tell us true. Is this why you did
it?” Turning to Jaime, Brienne saw him hesitate.

Why is he ashamed of his greatest deed?

“I didn’t know what else to do. I’m sorry.”

It was Ser Barristan’s voice that spoke confidently. “I don’t know that I could have done it. I would
like to think that I would have. You should be proud.”

With a sigh, the older knight turned to Daenerys. “I’m sorry, truly. Your father was a madman. We
couldn’t even protect your mother from him.”
Daenerys took a deep breath and looked back to Brienne. “Ser Barristan tells me that my father
wanted the throne. That my kin thought he caused the fire at Summerhall to see your line removed
from the line of succession. You are my kin and rightful heir to the throne. I will support you. I am
not my father. I meant to break the wheel.”

Brienne huffed a laugh and met her eyes. “I didn’t even want to be on the bloody wheel. All kings
before me who sat upon that throne are dead. The chair seems an occupational hazard.”

With a wide smile, Daenerys took a step towards Brienne and placed a warm hand on her shoulder.
“Then lets break it together. I’ll do whatever you need of me, your Grace.”
 You're No Daughter Of Mine
Chapter Summary

Tyrion, Selwyn, and the forces arrive at the Rock.

They moved under the cover of night into the sewer systems as Tyrion had outlined. They spent
much of the march west planning the siege. It was a very different approach than the soldiers were
accustomed to. This would be unexpected and calculated.

The men had been surprisingly impressed at Tyrion’s approach. Both the officers from the
Stormlands and the West seemed to share astonishment in how methodically Tyrion planned it out.
Tyrion knew that it would be impossible to cover the march of such a large army and he strategized
accordingly.

During the day, he made it obvious of their approach. They set up a traditional encampment as
Jaime had recommended before Tyrion left the capital. Under the moonlight, Tyrion would send
one-third of the forces through the sewer system. They would catch the enemy unaware and open
the gates to those outside.

As Tyrion was leaving two-thirds of the army behind, he instructed them to attack the hour after
his group set out. He wanted the Boltons and Freys to believe that the surprise was a night attack.
Of course, the real secret were the men taking the castle from within.

Tyrion led the group infiltrating the sewers. Even with detailed maps, they would move faster
under his lead. Selwyn and Ser Endrew would accompany him to formally command the division
and Ser Addam would lead the men laying siege at the gates.

They’ll think us great dolts trying to enter the Rock through the gates. The castle is nearly
impenetrable. Past conquerors struggled to gain entry and our plight will appear no different.

Looking to his back, Tyrion met Selwyn’s eyes. The older lord was in his element. His eyes
glistened with anticipation. Wordlessly, Selwyn handed Tyrion his dagger.

Always carry a dagger.

The men at Tyrion’s back followed wordlessly into the winding passageways. He remembered it as
though it was the day he first received the plans. Tyrion had been fuming. Indignant at the thought
of being deemed worthy of such a task.

That this very task now enabled him to lead the men into an anticipated victory. That this task
would end up saving his father. It was entirely comical to Tyrion now.

Here comes your shit son, Tywin. I’ll save your ass.

Making their way quietly and quickly through the bowels of the keep, Tyrion used his hands to
gesture to Selwyn and Endrew who passed wordless information down the lines. They came under
the area that Tyrion had been searching for. Rows of men lined up under the various sewer covers.
With a man atop another’s shoulders, they slowed pushed back the caps. Then, they climbed up a
level.
The men moved quickly into the top levels of the Keep. As expected, the small groups of Bolton
and Frey men they came across were caught unaware. Tyrion guided Selwyn, Endrew, and other
officers from the West and Stormlands through the Rock. He played the role of lookout to ensure
they knew what was awaiting them around every corner.

Given his stature, Tyrion could go unseen more easily than the others. He ducked and dove from
one alcove to the next. He motioned back to the men to indicate how many approached and with
what weapons.

This is pitifully easy. Jaime will love hearing of this. He always despised the Freys. Thought them
more useless than a newborn babe in battle.

In the distance, Tyrion could hear the siege at the gates starting. With the attention of the Bolton
and Frey men at the gates, it gave them easier access to the senior officers at the rear. The only
soldiers encountered along the way by their group had been men passing through to ensure the
castle’s security.

When at least they reached the main level, Tyrion nodded to Selwyn. At the indication, a violet hue
flashed in Selwyn’s eyes. He was ready for war.

By the Gods, he truly does have Targaryen blood.

The men charged the rear of the lines and began felling Bolton and Frey men. The enemy was
caught entirely unaware and Tyrion clung to the wall to watch. He looked on in fascination as
Selwyn cut through men as though they were pups in his way.

Selwyn looked positively gleeful as his fist met noses and his sword met guts. Then something
captured Selwyn’s attention. Tyrion moved silently up a small set of steps to an overlooking
battlement.

He watched from one of the concealed alcoves as Selwyn stormed forward. Like a lion stalking his
prey, Selwyn’s eyes narrowed in on someone. His eyes seemed to glow violet at whatever captured
his attention.

Following the man’s eyeline, Tyrion saw a redheaded man cowering in the corner. A wet stain
spread rapidly down the man’s tan breeches as he begged Selwyn. “Please! Lord Tarth! I didn’t
mean it!”

With a mighty war cry, Selwyn lifted the man by his neck and slammed his had backwards into the
wall. Gods. He is more vicious than the Mountain when he wants to be.

“You fucking shit! You insult my daughter! You kidnap my friend!” As Selwyn slammed him
repeatedly backwards, realization dawn on Tyrion. Ronnet Connington. The pathetic knight began
to lose consciousness with every crack to the head. Blood smeared the back of the castle walls and
Selwyn lowered him to the ground.

With a sneer, Selwyn met Ronnet’s eyes as the younger knight’s eyes rolled backwards. He
screamed at Ronnet. “This is all you’ll ever have from me.” Stepping back slightly, Selwyn thrust
his sword under the man’s chin. Similar to his daughter’s strike, the blade went straight through
the skull.

Brain tissue flew into the air as the sword exited the other end of Ronnet’s skull. As Selwyn pulled
back the blade, he used Ronnet’s garments to wipe his blade before continuing his murderous
rampage.
By the Seven. I truly must stay on his good side.

In the distance, Tywin could see Roose and a young man looking on in horror. They began to back
away slowly towards the doors to the Keep.

Ah Lord Bolton. No, you’ll not receive a death in battle. You’ll go to the capital for your crimes.

“Selwyn!” Tyrion called out to the older lord. As though shaken from a trance, Selwyn turned in
the direction of Tyrion’s voice. Tyrion pointed to indicate the retreating Boltons. With a nod of
understanding, Selwyn looked around him and grabbed two of his men. “This way lads!”

They moved inside quickly as Tyrion pursued from the shadows. He clung to the side of the castle
walls, trying his best to remain unseen. With a final look back towards the interior yards of the
castle, Tyrion could see that their men had opened the gates to the awaiting army. As soon as it
began, it would be over. The Boltons and Freys never knew what hit them.

Stepping inside, Tyrion watched with delight as Roose was apprehended. Whoever the young man
was beside Roose was screaming in rage.

Who is that?

One of the soldiers had the same thought. “My lord. What would you have us do with this one?”

Selwyn shrugged. “Keep him chained until we find out who he is.”

“I am Ramsay Bolton. Heir to House Bolton! I demand a trial!” The boy was livid and Tyrion
couldn’t help but chuckle.

You fucking dolt. Have you met our queen. She is apt to fight you herself. Good luck with that.

A shadow crossed the wall behind Tyrion and he turned his head quickly. Looking to the steps
leading to the cells, Tyrion smirked and stepped forward.

Father. Here I come. Your most disappointing child.

Without thinking to call for aid, Tyrion moved quickly to free his father. Assuming all threats
accounted for, he moved down the winding stairs and into the familiar section of the Keep. As a
boy, he played in all sections of the keep, but none intrigued him more than the hidden
passageways adjoining the cells.

The familiar musty smell hit his nose as he moved two levels lower. Moving quietly, Tyrion
listened for any noise coming from the rooms. Most cell doors were open, and Tyrion scanned
each side of the hallway, looking for a locked door.

He backtracked to where he knew the spare set of keys were kept. There was a small guard station
at the base of the stairs. Tucked away behind a loose brick in the wall, Tyrion smiled as he
grabbed the keys.

We really should devise a better system.

Taking out his dagger in the unlikely event of an attack. Tyrion moved back down the row of cells.
Ahead on the right, he saw a closed door and excitement spread through him.

As he approached, he placed the key into the lock and turned it quickly. A loud clicking sound
echoed off the walls and the creaking door alerted the cell occupant of his presence.
Shock coursed through Jaime as he saw Tywin crumpled on the floor. His eyes wide in shock and a
cloth shoved in his mouth. His wrists and ankles were chained and he was desperately trying to
scream something to Tyrion.

As quickly as his brain registered everything, something swung towards him. Tyrion ducked
quickly and fell to the floor. The dagger flew from his hand and he rolled onto his back. Staring
down at him in a blind rage was Cersei.

“You! They sent you!? It was supposed to be Jaime!”

As Cersei raised her arms high, Tyrion saw that she had a malice in hand. He rolled out of the way
just in time and hopped to his feet. The weight of the mace pulled Cersei to the floor and she fell to
her knees. The mace dropped from her hands and she rounded on him. Grabbing Tyrion by the hair,
she slammed his head against the wall.

Over the corner of Cersei’s shoulder, Tyrion saw Tywin struggling to push himself from the
ground. It was then that Tyrion saw his right hand was missing. With his wrists chained, Tywin
grabbed the filthy linen form his mouth and gagged.

His eyes flashed with rage as he reached for the dagger on the ground. “Get off my son!”

Tywin screamed as he lunged at Cersei. The dagger lodged deep in her upper back and she cried
out in pain. Spinning at the assault, Cersei gasped at the sight of her weakened father on his knees.

Tywin heaved from the exertion and glared at her. A brief moment of hesitation shook Tyrion from
his stupor. Cersei lunged for his throat and knocked him backwards.

Tyrion noted the paleness to Tywin’s features. He was weak from what appeared malnourishment
and torture. Falling backwards, Tywin’s head hit the stone floor with a sickening thud.

Cersei screamed in a mix of pain and rage as she strangled him. “I hate you! I hate you! Weak,
pathetic, old man!” The dagger was still lodged in her back and blood dripped down her spine.
Quickly removing his belt Tyrion threw it around her neck and squeezed as tightly as he could.

Pulling Cersei off Tywin, Tyrion held firm.

I just need to hold her until aid comes.

Her body writhed against Tyrion and her arms flailed. Grabbing at his hair and face, Tyrion grew
frustrated at her weak hits. He pushed her to the floor and straddled her. Tyrion’s hands came
around her neck as he choked the life form her.

Fucking bitch. You’ve always hated me! You’ve always wanted me dead! Even now my first instinct
was to restrain you and not kill you!

Cersei’s eyes flickered to Tywin. Her eyes wide and desperate for aid. She choked and sobbed as
tears streamed down her face. She barely managed to get the words out. “Father. Help. Me.”

“You’re no daughter of mine.” Tyrion could hear Tywin shuffling to his knees on the floor of the
cell. Cersei’s eyes remained fixed on Tywin as a final tear spilled from the corner of her eye. With
a last twitch, Tyrion felt life leave Cersei’s body.

A warm hand came to his shoulder. “It’s over, son.” Tywin’s gruff voice reached Tyrion’s ears and
it was only then that Tyrion realized he was sobbing. His hands loosened as realization hit him.
I killed her. I killed my own sister.

“I had to.” Tyrion’s words came out more a whisper than statement. He felt his weakened father
pull him to his chest. A rattling sound could be heard in Tywin’s chest as his arms wrapped around
Tyrion.

“My boy. You came for me.”

 Protector of the Realm
Chapter Summary

Stannis arrives at King's Landing.

“What do you mean she’s with the dragons!?”

Jaime stormed down the hallway in his armor. The last several days had been spent preparing for
Stannis’ arrival. Jaime trained around the clock with Bronn and Brienne. His left hand was feeling
more competent and his confidence grew.

The biggest surprise had been the aid of Ser Barristan. Just two days prior, the older knight and
renowned swordsman had been watching Jaime spar Brienne.

“She’s going easy on you.”

Jaime snorted and braced himself for the usual disdain that laced Ser Barristan’s tone whenever
they spoke.

“Yes, our Queen is merciful on a pathetic cripple such as myself.” Jaime’s eyes were downcast as
he awaited more judgement to come. Brienne huffed at his words and muttered at him to drop the
self-loathing bit.

“How did you lose the hand?” Barristan walked towards them; hands clasped behind his back. As
he reached them, Ser Barristan bowed to the queen and smiled warmly.

Jaime raised a brow and glanced at Brienne. A slight smile played at his lips. “Well I was still a
Kingsguard when I lost it. I suppose I was protecting the rightful queen… even if unknowingly.”

Brienne snorted and rolled her eyes. She looked to Ser Barristan and spoke solemnly. “One of Lord
Bolton’s men. They captured us and Ser Jaime lost his hand saving me from rape. We were
enemies then.”

With feigned offense, Jaime clutched his heart and gawked at Brienne. “Wench! How can you say
that? You were completely smitten with me. I of course was a Kingsguard and could not return
your affections.”

Brienne ignored him and looked to Ser Barristan. “He was a complete ass and I hated him.”

No words came from the older knight’s mouth, but he appraised Jaime for a moment before a huff
of laughter pushed past his lips. With a shrug, Barristan moved towards Jamie and grabbed his left
arm.

“Your grip is off. With the left you need to hold here and roll your wrist this way. You’re still
fighting as though your right hand is the lead.”

Jaime followed Barristan’s instructions and immediately noticed a difference in both the strength
and security of the grip. Huh. Bronn never bothered to show me that. He was too busy smacking
me over the head with my false hand.
A small smile tugged at Jaime’s lips as he rolled his wrist around with the sword held out. Then
the true surprise came. Barristan unsheathed his sword and stood opposite him.

“Alright. Lets see if you’re half as impressive with that left as you were with the right.” At the
words, Jaime’s eyes went wide in shock. He had always looked up to Barristan and respected his
skill, but Jaime never had a chance to train with him. Ser Barristan hated Jaime and didn’t think
him worth the effort.

Looking to his side, Jaime saw Brienne retreat to the rock wall with a smile on her face.

Jaime and Barristan sparred for some time that day. The older knight was extraordinarily skilled
with the blade and Jaime imagined he was near unbeatable in his youth. The training helped
Jaime’s skill immensely.

Bronn taught how to fight dirty. A gritty style that irritated Jaime, but mirrored enemies like the
Boltons. Brienne taught him how to fight with patience and strength. She was methodical and did
not fight for style, but outcome. Barristan taught him how to fight with grace. His motions were
fluid and fast with alarming precision.

Barristan continued to train with Jaime in the days that followed. Now, the enemy approached.

The scout had arrived with word of Stannis’ forces. The Vale and an army of sellswords were
marching on the city and would be there by midday.

As Jaime walked through the halls of the castle, ready for war, Jaime heard footsteps continue to
trail him as he continued to complain of Brienne’s decision to ignore his earlier requests.

No dragons. No fighting.

Ignoring his prior complaint, Genna spoke in an indignant tone.

“Honestly, Jaime. Do you think anyone can control your wife!?”

Glancing back at Genna and Olenna, he could see the amused smirks on their faces as they
appraised him. Olenna raised a challenging brow that reached the head covering that always
adorned her head.

Jaime spoke in a teasing tone as he looked to Olenna. “Do you have any snacks in that headbox of
yours, Lady Olenna? I’m quite hungry.”

The Queen of Thorns scoffed and glared at Jaime. “I hope the dragon gets to you and we can have
roast lion for lunch.”

Jaime chuckled at the faux hope. With a small smirk, he met her eyes. “It’s only fair. I had a taste
of dragon just this morning. Delightful.”

Genna gasped in distaste before slapping the back of Jaime’s head. “Jaime! We hear enough from
the pair of you! Gods I’m ready to see a new wing of the Keep built just to keep my ears safe from
the two of you. We don’t need to discuss it.”

Pushing through the doors to the courtyard, Jaime’s eyes went wide in horror as he saw Brienne
standing with Daenerys, Ser Barristan, and the dragons. He took off running and called out to her.

“Brienne! Get away from there!”

Jaime’s words captured the attention of the trio and Daenerys’ dragons. It was horrifying to think
the beasts weren’t fully grown. They already were of an intimidating size and Daenerys regularly
took to the skies on the back of one.

Yesterday, Brienne joined her in flight and Jaime nearly suffered heart failure. Daenerys insisted
that Brienne would be fine. The young woman claimed that one of the dragon’s “chose” Brienne.

What the fuck does that even mean? Chose her for what? A tea party? Tonight’s supper?

At Jaime’s rapid approach, one of the beasts rounded on him; a protective posturing over its
‘mother’ and Brienne. Genna and Olenna had caught up and grabbed Jaime’s arms.

“Gods you great dolt! I was japing about the lion roast. You’re going to get yourself eaten before
Stannis arrives!” Olenna scolded Jaime and swatted his chest. “You run at a dragon no sooner than
you run at a boar! It is the only lesson you should have learned from your wretched goodbrother.”

With an apologetic look to Daenerys, Brienne shook her head and walked towards Jaime. “Jaime, I
swore no promises on this.” It was then that he noticed her armor and Oathkeeper strapped at her
hip.

“No! Brienne, the babe! I can’t lose either of you!”

At his words, Daenerys and Barristan stiffened. The young woman looked to Brienne in shock.
“You’re with child?”

“It’s quite early still, but yes.”

“Quite early!? Hello… the coronation! That was not yesterday.” Jaime barked at her.

Brienne gave a warning glance. “Don’t start that again.”

Changing his approach, Jaime tried begging. “Please. Just let me deal with Stannis. You stay with
the guards.”

“No! I will fight for Westeros. Stannis will destroy this city to get to the throne. Baelish will use
the wildfire we’ve yet to finish disposing of. I won’t let that happen! Besides, Stannis killed Renly
and…”

“Oh Gods, here we go. Renly, Renly, Renly.” Jaime rolled his eyes and began to rant about Renly
fucking Baratheon. Genna and Olenna groaned at his side. He knew it was pitiful. Jealousy over a
dead man that Brienne conceded to loving far less than him.

Brienne approached and grabbed his face in her hands. “I’m fighting in this war. I will defend the
city as you have done before and will do again today. Then I’m going to come back for supper
because I am very fucking hungry.”

Without another word, Brienne marched back to where Daenerys stood. The two women climbed
atop their respective dragons and took to the skies.

Seven hells! Stubborn woman!

Olenna mumbled at Jaime’s side. “My word. You two truly do work up quite the appetite. I’m
going inside. It’s too fucking hot out here with this box on my head.”

Jaime couldn’t help but chuckle at the words. The older woman’s hand gripped his arm as she
turned to face the Keep. “Kill them, Ser Jaime. Every last one… and be quick about it. I hate the
sound of battle. Ruins the serenity of my afternoon tea in the gardens.”

With that, Olenna marched inside. Genna stood before him and fussed over him. “Be careful out
there, Jaime. Brienne will be safer from the sky than you on the ground.”

He could see the worry lines at her eyes. Jaime understood why. He was only just making progress
with his left hand. There was truly no reason to be out there other than he wanted to fight for his
queen. To keep Brienne safe. His love.

Genna pinched his ear before retreating to the Keep. It was a gesture that Jaime was accustomed to
since he was a boy and his aunt took on a maternal role when Joanna passed.

Looking to Brienne, Jaime cringed as she soared into the sky and towards the troops. From the top
of Aegon’s Hill, Jaime could see the armies assembled outside the gates. The dust cloud of
Stannis’ approaching army signaled their arrival.

Barristan grabbed Jaime’s arm and nodded. “We need to get to the front of the lines. I promise to
do a better job for you than I did for Prince Rhaegar on the Trident.”

The older knight’s face was solemn as he said the words. A rare show of emotion from the stoic
knight. Jaime shook his head at the words. Everyone knew of Barristan’s valor in the field. He took
an arrow, spear, and sword during the battle and kept fighting.

“You did more than enough for him. He fell in a war as I might today. As long as the queen stays
safe, that is all that matters.”

Jaime meant every word of it, but the words hung heavy.

I want to live for Brienne and for our babe. A babe that I can claim my own and be a father to.

They made their way towards the gates quickly. From the scout’s reports, they already had the
advantage in numbers. With three dragons, they had a guaranteed victory.

Brienne and Daenerys were circling the troops in the sky. They dragons would cut through the
enemy’s lines before continuing their fiery assault at the rear lines of Stannis’ forces. They did not
want to risk setting their own men aflame once the lines crashed together. Jaime prayed to the
Seven that Brienne didn’t do anything foolish like engage Stannis on foot.

As the incoming army approached, Daenerys and Brienne guided the dragons forward. Jaime was
atop his horse, flanked by Barristan and Oberyn. The armies of the Reach, Dorne, and the Houses
of the Crownlands were at their back.

At Jaime’s command, they surged forward; cavalry first, followed by the foot soldiers. As they
approached the enemy, most were already ablaze. Men writhed on the ground in pain as flesh left
their bones.

The stench was terrible, and Jaime had to shake the memories of Aerys from his head. They cut
through the lines easy enough. The mounted knights of the Vale met them first. Unlike the
scattering sellswords in the distance, these men would fight until the end.

Brienne and Daenerys circled back to the rear of the flanks to take out the fleeing foot soldiers.
They made several passes through and were quickly eliminating any opposition.

Gods. Forget Selwyn and being home in time for supper. We’ll be home in time for lunch. I’ve
taken a piss that lasted longer than this will.

Then, Jaime’s worst fear came true. On a hill overlooking the battle, he could see Stannis, Baelish,
and a handful of guards. Evidently, Brienne saw them too. She began her descent towards the
ground; seemingly eager to meet him head on.

“No! Brienne!”

Jamie urged his horse forward and cut through as many as he could, but the middle of the pack was
too thick. His horse was cut down as Jaime heard Barristan and Oberyn screaming from behind
him.

On the ground, Jaime began cutting through anyone approaching him. A feral feeling consumed
him at the thought of Brienne facing Stannis and his guards alone.

His heart began to beat wildly as he felled any man coming within five feet, but they were soon
closing in on him. The men fleeing the fire at the rear were surging forward as their own forces
pressed in from the other side. Jaime could barely raise his arms to strike the next man; the field
too crowded.

Ser Barristan’s voice called from behind Jaime’s back.

“Protect the prince consort!”

No! Don’t save me. Get to Brienne!

Jaime began to push enemies with his shoulders to free enough space to slice through him. From
his right, an enemy sword came slicing towards his head, but the blow was blocked by someone
else. Ser Barristan.

Together they pushed forward, cutting through sellswords and knights of the Vale alike. It felt like
a lifetime passed, but they neared the rear of the lines. Jaime could see Brienne with sword drawn
and taking on Stannis’ guards. She was felling them deftly, but there were too many and they were
moving to surround. With a vicious smile, Stannis dismounted and stalked towards her.

No!

“The queen!” Jaime screamed out as he pushed forward with everything he had. He could hear
Barristan and Oberyn screaming out similar calls to aid the queen.

Jaime tried to run forward but was tackled by someone. He rolled to his back and saw Barristan
atop him as a spear whizzed by their heads.

Fucking hells. He saved me.

From over Barristan’s shoulder, a knight lunged forward with a sword aimed at the older man’s
back. Jaime shoved Barristan off and blocked the strike before felling the man with a counterstrike.
Moving to their feet, Jaime and Barristan took off running towards Brienne.

There were five men surrounding her and two dead near her feet. She was surrounded and Jaime
felt as though his legs were weighted down. He couldn’t move fast enough. Barristan had fallen
back slightly, but Oberyn and Jaime were in a full sprint to get to Brienne.

At Jaime’s back, he could hear their forces surging past the rear lines of Stannis’ men. They were
in a full sprint to get to their queen. A sword to the back of Brienne’s calf brought her to a knee and
Jaime felt his heart stop as another man raised his sword to land a killing blow to her neck.

Brienne was too fast though and sliced Oathkeeper across his gut; spilling his intestines. Spinning
around, she stabbed through the man who stabbed her calf moments earlier. The three remaining
men started to close in with swords raised to strike.

Jaime could see Stannis’ steps falter at the sight of her. She had a wild look in her eyes as she eyed
the three guards. Jaime finally reached them and tackled one of the remaining three soldiers.
Straddling the man, he sliced across the enemy’s neck. Jaime looked up to see Oberyn shove a
spear through another’s neck.

Brienne was moving towards Stannis whose lips were curled into a snarl. Stannis was not the type
to retreat nor give up. He raised his sword high and within a heartbeat, Stannis’ sword met
Brienne’s. Oberyn felled the last guard as Barristan charged past them to aid Brienne.

It proved unnecessary though. Brienne was putting on a display like no other. The Baratheon lord
was a strong fighter, but no match for Brienne. Unlike the fight with the Mountain where Brienne
was cautious and methodical, in this fight she was the aggressor.

Stannis was quickly back on his heels. As Brienne stabbed him left and right, Stannis backed up in
pain and blood poured down his arms. With a final spin, her sword cut clear through his throat as
she screamed out in anger.

Seeing the queen safe, Barristan took off after Baelish. Littlefinger had fled on horseback and
Barristan took off after the man on Stannis’ palfrey. Jaime ran to Brienne who was panting from
the exertion. The adrenaline rush of battle was quickly wearing off as she looked to her calf in
pain.

As he reached her, Jaime’s armor crashed into hers. “Seven hells Brienne! What were you
thinking!?”

The pain in her eyes was evident, but she bit her lip and collected herself. “I didn’t want him to
burn. I wanted him to feel the blade just as Renly did.”

Fucking hells. This woman.

“There were too many! We almost didn’t get to you in time!”

Brienne looked over his shoulder and grimaced. The army had caught up to them as the last of
Stannis’ men were killed off in the middle of the field. Jaime turned around to see the men of the
Reach, Dorne, and the Crownlands staring at their queen in awe. They appraised her as though she
was one of the Seven themselves.

Oberyn smiled and laughed loudly. “Who needs a Queensguard, your Grace. You seem more than
capable of guarding yourself.”

Jaime huffed a laugh and considered the words. It was true. She had felled four of seven men
before Jaime, Barristan, and Oberyn caught up to her. Then she killed a self-proclaimed king. All
this after flying atop a dragon moments earlier.

Gods, I thought her skill against those Stark guards in the Riverlands impressive. Since then, she
fought a bear. Killed the Mountain. Flew atop a dragon in battle. Killed a self-proclaimed king
after felling his personal guards. Bonus points for knocking Addam to his ass on a daily basis in
the yards.
Then it hit Jaime.

“Kneel, your Grace.”

Brienne’s face scrunched in confusion. A hint of jest filled her tone. “Isn’t it meant to be the other
way around? You’re getting awfully cocky as consort.”

Jaime raised a brow at Brienne as he continued to pant from the effort of battle. “Yes, you’re the
queen, but it seems you were always meant to be a knight first.”

“Women can’t be knights.”

Jaime scoffed. “Says who? Where is it written? Besides, I know the queen. I can convince her to
allow it.” A mischievous grin spread across his face, but quickly fell as he removed any mirth from
his tone.

“Kneel, your Grace.”

Brienne’s eyes darted nervously to the army assembled before them. They stared expectantly at her
and Oberyn spoke next. “I’ve never met anyone more deserving of the title. Besides, as queen, you
are protector of the realm. I believe you did just that. Your husband has the right of it.”

Slowly, Brienne kneeled before Jaime.

He raised Widow’s Wail and touched her shoulder. Silence fell over the field around them when
Jaime began to speak. He had never experienced such silence on the heels of victory.

“In the name of the Warrior, I charge you to be brave. In the name of the Father, I charge you to be
just. In the name of the mother, I charge you to defend the innocent. Arise, Brienne Lannister of
Tarth, a knight… and queen… of the Seven Kingdoms.”

Their eyes locked as Jaime heard the men cheering and clapping around them, but all he could
focus on was Brienne. She never wanted to be a queen, but she wanted to be a knight. Her eyes
shone with something he had never seen there before, but he understood the feeling. Validation.
Acceptance.

As she turned to look out at the field, all the clapping and cheers stopped. The men reverently
dropped to a knee in a show of respect to their queen. Their knight and protector. Jaime joined them
in kneeling; a wide smile on his face as he looked up at her.

Glancing ahead, he saw Daenerys approach as the dragons circled the skies above. A wide smile
was on her face as she looked to her kin. She joined the assembled to kneel before her queen.

Now Brienne definitely has the better title. There. I fixed it.
 His Children
Chapter Summary

Tywin returns to the capital and finds much as changed.

As they approached King’s Landing, a plume of smoke could be seen outside the capital. The
battle was not fresh, but the stench of death and smoke lingered. Vultures circled the skies, angrily
looking for a non-existent feast.

Where are the bodies?

All Tywin could see was ash. It appeared that the winds had taken most of it, but there were still
mounds displaced ash pushed against rock walls. Then he heard the cries in the distance.

Dragons. By the Seven. Real fucking dragons.

In a panic, Tywin looked to the gates. His first instinct was that the Targaryen girl had flown
across the sea to claim the throne. When he saw the Lannister banners still adorning the stone
walls of King’s Landing, he let out a shaky breath.

Looking to his son, Tywin saw a faint smirk on Tyrion’s face.

“You did this? You brought the dragon girl?”

With a slight laugh, Tyrion looked to him. “You gooddaughter is a dragon girl. I merely invited her
kin. I took a gamble that the dragon girl across the sea would choose family over a crown. Revenge
over carnage. It seems I was correct… well, mostly.”

Genius. My son is a genius. We are allied with the only remaining threat there was.

A wide smile tugged at Tywin’s lips and he shook his head. Were he not in so much pain, he
would have laughed. Tywin turned his head to the right. At his side, riding tall on his horse was
Selwyn. Behind Selwyn on the same horse was Arya Stark.

My fucking cup bearer.

As if sensing his gaze, Arya turned and smirked at him. “What? If you’re thirsty, you can get your
own damn water.”

Tywin chuckled and looked back to the city before them. He shook his head and sighed. “My
gooddaughter will be quite pleased with your arrival. You’ll quite like her. She’s a stubborn, smart,
and a fighter… like you.”

A pleased expression stretched across Arya’s face. They had made an uneasy truce on the way to
the capital. Arya resented Tywin and rightly so. He was responsible for the fall of her House. The
death of her kin.

She told Tywin of her list. Of his name on it. It was only for the sake of her rescuers that Arya did
not take his life with her little sword. It had been a week ago when he awoke about halfway to the
capital.

Tywin had huffed a laugh as he lay in a cart; too weak to ride. The maester at Casterly Rock said
illness had taken his lungs. They gave him a few days rest and medication before setting off for the
capital.

He had looked towards the sky as Arya glared down at him in the open field they made camp in; a
sword in her hand. “I care not, girl. Take my life. It isn’t worth much. If you don’t kill me off, I’ll
help you with your Gods damned list.”

She would hold him to that, and he knew it. The first thing he did was send a group of his men to
the Twins to collect Walder Frey. Old Walder would be brought to the capital and charged
according to his crimes. Violation of guest right and treason among them.

Arya was pleased to see her newest additions to the list already in their custody; Roose and
Ramsay. There were plans for them too. A gleeful Selwyn announced to Tywin that multiple
witnesses heard Ramsay request a trial by combat. As Arya would hold Tywin to see her list
complete, Selwyn would hold Ramsay to his request.

Also in chains was Qyburn. The maester who tended to Tywin’s injuries was the same man who
tended to Jaime’s. He was part of Cersei’s escape. He was part of Ramsay’s plan to continue
torturing Tywin. He was part of Baelish’s long-term plan.

Thinking it would help him avoid the executioner’s block, Qyburn divulged Baelish’s intentions.
The Boltons and Cersei were mere pawns through it all. Stannis would take the crown and declare
Littlefinger his Hand. Baelish would take Sansa as bride. They would use Qyburn to create more
wildfire and maintain their power from any potential threat.

Qyburn was tasked with making more wildfire. He had begun studying it during his brief stay in
King’s Landing.

On the way back to the capital, Selwyn boasted of Tyrion’s planning and strategizing. The men of
the West and the Stormlands praised Tyrion’s leadership in the siege. They respected him.

He figured it all out. He developed battle plans. He amassed an army. He brought new, strong
alliances. He saved me. My son. My heir.

Tywin spent many nights on the travel home laying awake and staring up at the stars. My sons
could have left me to die. They should have. They didn’t. They went to war for me.

As they entered the gates of the city, Tywin observed something he never had before. A reverence
of sorts. The people of King’s Landing eagerly welcomed home their army.

Robert earned indifference from the people. His reign was one of feasting and whoring. Joffrey
earned disdain from the people. His reign was one of cruelty and anger. Brienne earned support
from the people. Her reign was already being celebrated. It was evident from the expressions on
their faces and shouts of praise.

My children did this. Not me. Not my approach to ruling. They did it their way. They’ve built a true
legacy.

Their escorting party made their way up Aegon’s Hill and towards the Keep. Standing in the
courtyard was Brienne flanked by the small council and Sansa.

Arya’s mask of indifference broke at the sight of her big sister. A choked sob pushed past her lips
as she looked around Selwyn’s massive frame and towards Sansa. The island of a man chuckled
from his horse and eyed the girl from over his shoulder.

“See. We did not lie to you. My daughter was your mother’s sworn sword.”

Tywin glanced to Sansa. The older girl gasped and took a shaky step forward; her hand covering
the sob pushing past her mouth. “Arya!”

Selwyn helped Arya down from the horse and the sisters collided in a firm embrace. As they
reunited, Tywin considered how to get down without making a complete ass of himself.

Fucking hells. I can barely wipe my own ass let alone dismount a horse.

Tywin spent the better part of the past fortnight relearning how to do the simple things. He was
fortunate in that he had the aid of Tyrion, Selwyn, and the men. They encouraged him and were
patient with him. It made Tywin feel like shit.

Aside from Brienne, Jaime’s enemy at the time, what support did my son have when he lost his
hand? What encouragement? When he returned here, I looked to him in disgust. I humiliated him
on purpose. Served food he couldn’t cut. Mocked his inability to serve in the Kingsguard. All to
make a fucking point. That he failed me.

Tywin thought back to the first things he said to Jaime upon his return. “Well how do you expect to
be of use with your sword hand gone?”

Jaime. He was missing from the welcome party. Tywin could hardly blame him. At Tywin’s
approach, Genna gasped. “Ty! What have those animals done to you!?”

Then he saw Brienne’s expression. She didn’t need to say anything. She knew. She knew what
Tywin was going through because she was there with Jaime when he suffered through it. When
their eyes met, she whispered the only name that Tywin dreaded standing before and receiving
judgement. “Jaime.”

Her head snapped back towards the castle door as though waiting for someone. Not moments later,
the door opened to reveal Jaime and Ser Barristan Selmy in deep conversation. It appeared they
had been running through the castle to join the welcome party. Their chests panted from the
exertion.

A wide smile tugged at Jaime’s lips as he scanned Tywin’s group. “Did you get the old man!?
Took you all long enough. I could have fought Stannis ten times over by the time you all…”

Jaime’s teasing died on his lips as his eyes landed on Tywin. On Tywin’s missing hand. Tywin
watched as his eldest son paled and reached for Brienne to steady himself. When their eyes met,
Tywin was shocked to see tears in Jaime’s eyes.

Tywin saw things that he hadn’t afford Jaime upon his son’s return from the Riverlands.
Sympathy. Pain. There was something else too. Something that Tywin couldn’t be certain of, but
Jaime’s next action confirmed his suspicion. Love.

Moving to Tywin, Jaime embraced his father. “I’m sorry.” It was all Jaime said and Tywin looked
over Jaime’s shoulder to see Genna shooing everyone inside. Only Brienne looked back
momentarily; a sad smile on her face.

Pulling back from Tywin, Jaime moved to correct himself as Tywin had taught him. No emotions.
‘Emotions are weakness.’ Jaime cleared his throat and bowed slightly. “Father. Welcome back.”
Gods help me. What I’ve done to them.

He watched as Jaime averted his eyes and wiped at them with his forearm. “We’ll show you to
your room.” Before Jaime could turn to walk inside, Tywin grabbed him at the nape of his neck.
The action forced Jaime to meet Tywin’s eyes.

It was the only touch Tywin had ever afforded his son. An action used on multiple occasions over
the years when he was to deliver a particularly important message. The last time his hands touched
Jaime’s neck was before his son’s capture. Tywin had scolded Jaime on his duties to their House.
Of caring not for the opinions of sheep. He told Jaime that it was time for him to be the man he
was always meant to be.

And what was that? What was so wrong with Jaime then that I needed to mold him into something
else?

Jaime stood quietly awaiting his father’s words, just as he had that day. Tywin thought it likely
Jaime was bracing for a scolding. Moons earlier, Tywin would have yelled at Jaime for ‘arriving
too late’ or ‘not doing enough’.

“Thank you. You and Tyrion had no reason to fight for me. You did anyway.”

Jaime’s brows furrowed slightly at the words. “You’re our father. We’ll always fight for you.”

Tywin held Jaime’s eyes and he sighed. “Well I believe all of Westeros would agree that I’ve given
you little reason to fight for me.”

With a slight smirk, Jaime spoke teasingly. “A lion does not concern himself with the opinions of
sheep.”

Gods help me with this one.

“Come inside. You’ve missed quite a lot. My wife now rides dragons before taking her afternoon
tea and she goes by the title ‘Ser’.”

Tywin snorted and shook his head. “Of course, she does. Like the rest of you children, she enjoys
defying me when I’ve already claimed that I couldn’t possibly like her more than I already do.”

They walked into the castle and Tywin noticed Jaime’s eyes linger on his bandaged stump. Jaime
looked forward and questioned Tywin abruptly. “Who did it?”

“Roose’s bastard. Ramsay”

Jaime nodded in understanding before asking another question. “Is he dead?”

“I believe the men are brining him up the hill now, along with Roose and Qyburn.”

Something flashed in Jaime’s eyes that Tywin had not seen before. It made Ramsay’s glances look
tame by comparison. “Good.”

That night dinner was delayed. It wasn’t until Tywin questioned Genna afterwards that he found
out why. She looked to Tywin with a sad smile stretched across her face before cupping his cheek.
“They were going to serve boar. Jaime had Alice change the menu to fish.”

Of course, he did. Only I would make my tortured kin fail at dinner.

Tywin sat on his balcony that night with a housecoat wrapped around him. Since the fevers had
passed a week prior, his weakened body felt the chill of night more. He looked over the yards and
watched as Brienne and Jaime sparred together. It was a nightly activity that Tywin didn’t realize
how much he enjoyed until watching in secret was no longer an option.

Brienne bested Jaime, but not as easily as she once had. There was something different in Jaime’s
form. A confidence that Tywin had not seen in some time. Sparks of the boy who Tywin once
studied from his balcony at the Rock.

They always moved well together; Jaime and Brienne. They went several rounds and each time
Jaime came closer to victory. Brienne wouldn’t give him an inch. When Jaime won, it would be
earned. Before the fifth reset, some hushed words were exchanged. Tywin couldn’t make out what
they said, but Brienne looked uncertain while Jaime looked resolute.

They debated the matter before resetting. Even from his distant perch on the balcony, tucked away
in the shadows, Tywin could see the change in Jaime. His body tensed. His jaw clenched. His face
darkened. Tywin was far away, but he recognized the change. It was the look on Jaime’s face
earlier when they spoke of Ramsay.

What are they on about?

Then they sparred. It was as though a string snapped and Jaime surged forward in a manner Tywin
hadn’t seen in years. It was an incredible match which went on for some time, but Jaime won. The
sound of Oathkeeper hitting the dirt wafted into the air and a wide smile spread across Brienne’s
face, but Jaime did not return the smile. Instead, Tywin watched as his son’s face contorted in pain
and his shoulders slumped as he lowered his blade.

Brienne stepped forward and pulled Jaime close as he sagged against her; his wrapped arms around
her waist as he sobbed into her neck. They stood like that for some time as Brienne spoke soothing
words. When Jaime lifted his head to meet her eyes, he had a determined look on his face. Tywin
wondered at the conversation and what set Jaime off. He found out four days later.

Tywin sat between Selwyn and Daenerys in the first row of court that had assembled in the throne
room. The Stark sisters and the small council were just to their right. The new Lord Commander of
the Kingsguard, Ser Barristan Selmy, stood near the empty throne. Looking to his right, Tywin
smiled inwardly at the sight of Daenerys Targaryen, the new Master of Dragons.

Of course, they made up a role for her. Of course, it’s a role that only she and Brienne qualify for
to begin with. Tywin was eager to spend more time with the young woman. She already seemed
devoted to Brienne and of that, Tywin was pleased.

Across the row on the left, Tywin was surprised to see that the existing wardens and liege lords
present; including Tommen and Margaery. At word of Stannis’ defeat, they were all called to the
city for several key appointments to be made.

The doors to the throne room opened and his children walked in. All three looked the most serious
that Tywin had ever seen. Tyrion and Jaime flanked Brienne who looked both regal and
commanding. The entire court stood at Brienne’s entry and the young woman, Missandei, who
Tywin only met two days prior announced Brienne’s arrival.

“Her Grace, Ser Brienne Lannister of Tarth, first of her name. Blood of the Dragon. Queen of the
Andals and the First Men. Forthcoming Evenstar. Protector of the realm and Knight of the Seven
Kingdoms.”

Brienne sighed in thinly veiled annoyance at the title while Tyrion bit back a laugh. Jaime’s face
broke into a wide smirk and he raised a brow at Daenerys.

At Tywin’s side, Selwyn muttered in annoyance. Tywin leaned to his friend and raised a brow.
“What has happened with the title?”

Selwyn spoke in hushed tones as he kept his eyes trained forward. “Your son has been harassing
that poor woman with all manner of titles that he wishes to see included. Those are a handful of
them. There have been others, but I’m pleased to see that Lady Missandei has refused ‘Descendant
of Dunk and Egg’, ‘Toppler of Mountains’, ‘Wrestler of bears’, ‘Supremest of Wenches’, and
‘Bearer of the greatest ass and legs’.”

Tywin snorted at the words and shook his head. From his side, Daenerys hummed slightly and
tilted her towards them while continuing to look forward. “You forgot ‘Rider of Overgrown
Lizard.’ Honestly Lord Tywin, I think there is something wrong with your son.”

An amused smile stretched across Tywin’s face as he appraised his eldest son. “Yes. Wonderful
isn’t he.”

The court sat as Brienne took her seat. Tyrion and Jaime remained standing at her side and a brief
pause settled over the room before Tyrion took a step forward. “Her Grace has named several key
appointments in the realm which have been formally documented and sent to the Citadel. Missives
will be distributed to all noble houses.”

With a nod of his head to Brienne, Tyrion stepped back as Brienne stood from her seat. “With the
threats from the North removed, we have named a new Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the
North. Jon Snow, now Lord Jon Stark has been called back from his position as Lord Commander
of the Night’s Watch to lead his father’s House. We have reason to believe that Lord Bran Stark
and Lord Rickon Stark may be alive in the North and we ask the aid of the kingdoms to see them
returned home safely.”

Tywin noted how the Starks girls grabbed each other’s hands and giggled excitedly at the
announcement. They had been informed that morning that Jon had recently been named Lord
Commander of the Night’s Watch. Stannis had tried to sway Jon to his cause and gone so far as to
entice the young man with legitimization as he afforded Ramsay. Jon however had refused and
remained at the Wall.

The next several appointments were also not a surprise to Tywin. “My Hand, Lord Tyrion
Lannister has been officially named heir to Casterly Rock by Lord Tywin Lannister. The seat will
remain Warden of the West. The Crownlands will no longer be ruled directly by the crown, but by
the Lady Daenerys Targaryen of Dragonstone. Lord Walder Frey will no longer rule the Twins.
Lord Emmon Frey will act as Castellan of the Twins until his son, Lord Walder Frey, comes of age.
Lord Edmure Tully will return to claim his ancestral home at Riverrun as Lord Paramount of the
Trident. Lord Yohn Royce will act as Castellan of the Vale until Lord Robin Arryn comes of age.
For now, Lord Robin Arryn will foster with Lord Jon Stark of Winterfell.”

Brienne nodded to Tyrion who spoke again from the queen’s side. “Bring in the prisoners.”

The back doors to the throne room opened and the guards brought forward all those apprehended;
Roose, Ramsay, Qyburn, Littlefinger, and Walder.

Any mirth on the faces of Tyrion, Brienne, and Jaime faded as the prisoners entered. Tywin turned
and took in the sight of the chained men. His stomach lurched as his eyes fell on Ramsay. The men
were brought before the court and placed at the bottom of the stairs.
Brienne spoke commandingly to the prisoners. “You all stand before the crown accused of treason.
For most of you, your trials will begin in two days’ time.”

Looking to Ramsay, Brienne’s eyes shone with hatred. “Ramsay Snow, you have requested a trial
by combat. We are happy to honor your request. On the morrow, you will fight the crown’s
champion. Prince Consort, Ser Jaime Lannister.”

Jaime took a step forward and glared down at the man. Then Tywin saw it again. The look from
the training yards the other night. The look when he and Jaime spoke of Ramsay. Tywin knew in
that moment that Ramsay would not meet the Stranger quickly. It would not be a painless death.
Looking to Ramsay, Tywin realized that the Bolton boy recognized the same.

Tywin’s chest swelled with pride at the sight before him. Tyrion, Brienne, and Jaime stood tall and
proud by the throne. His children. His legacy.
 A Father's Champion
Chapter Summary

Jaime faces Ramsay in trial by combat.

Warning: Gory details in this battle and mention of past threats of rape.

Chapter Notes

Thanks to Mare9548 for the suggestion of including the J + B conversation in the

yards observed during the Tywin POV. It was a better way to give context than what I
originally wrote!

When the morning of the trial by combat arrived, Jaime sat in his room and stared out at the city.
His hands, one flesh and one gold, rested atop the railing of the balcony. Looking to his false hand,
Jaime allowed the painful memories to bubble to the surface.

That pain would drive him today and keep him alert. Jaime thought back days prior to when first
observed Tywin’s handless arm. That evening, Jaime had stood in the same spot on the balcony
that he stood now. Brienne joined him; her presence felt before he saw or heard her approach.

“What’s wrong?”

“Lets spar.” Jaime’s voice was distant, and he didn’t look to Brienne.

Brienne sighed and stood beside him at the balcony. Their shoulders brushed slightly, and Jaime
felt the pain in his heart sharpen. Memories of her torment at the hands of the Boltons were just as
present as his own.

Brienne’s long fingers curled over the railing. “I can’t imagine how you feel, but sparring won’t
change it.”

Jaime turned abruptly and walked into the room. The lighting was dim, but the firelight caught the
rubies embedded in the hilt of Widow’s Wail. “I want to spar. Are you coming or shall I call on
Addam or Barristan or fucking Bronn for all I care?”

Jaime didn’t mean to snap at Brienne. It wasn’t her fault; only his. The moment he saw his father’s
missing hand, he knew.

They took his hand because of me. I cost him that hand. They probably enjoyed mocking him about
it as he suffered.

Brienne picked up her sword and followed him wordlessly to the yards. He appreciated that about
her. When he got in moods such as this, Brienne had every right to resent him for it though she
never did.

Just as when they first met in the Riverlands, Jaime lashed out in the worst ways when angry,
afraid, or vulnerable. He had been so angry then.

Angry that he was captured. Angry that he was away from his family; away from Cersei. Angry
that he failed his House. Brienne was the victim of his rage for much of their travels together.

Now he was angry and hurt knowing what those animals did to his father. Old wounds resurfaced
as he remembered his own torture and the hands of Locke. Facing Brienne in the yards, they
sparred for some time and with each reset, he came closer to victory. His heart led his movement
with the blade more than his mind.

I will beat that miserable shit Ramsay into the dirt. I will make him suffer. I will be the crown’s
champion. My father’s champion. Brienne’s champion. My own champion.

Before their fifth match, Jaime met her eyes and spoke resolutely. “Name me the crown’s
champion.”

Brienne grimaced at the words. “I was thinking we could name my father. You’ve improved so
much, but you have one hand, Jaime. I can’t risk losing you.”

“I will kill that bastard. I will kill him, and I only need one hand to do so.” Jaime’s tone was cold
and unyielding. He refused to back down on the matter. They debated over it. It wasn’t that
Brienne didn’t believe in him; Jaime understood that. She worried for him. She also knew how
hotheaded he could be, and he didn’t always make the best decisions when in a rage.

“Let have my father deal with Ramsay. It will take no time at all.” Brienne’s brows knitted together
as though it pained her to suggest it.

“That isn’t long enough. I want him to suffer.” Jaime held firm. He wouldn’t back down from this.

Looking to him cautiously and avoiding the issue, Brienne raised her sword. “Again.”

Something stirred in Jaime that he hadn’t felt in years. He had faced knights better than him in
youth and came out the victor. Brienne was better than him now, but Jaime wouldn’t let that stop
him.

They sparred and Jaime moved in ways he had not since his righthand was taken. He could feel
Brienne moving back on her heels. Images of Locke’s men coming for Brienne. Images of Locke’s
blade coming down on his wrist. Images of Brienne in the bear pit. Images of his father’s
weakened body. Images of his father’s missing hand.

Jaime spun left and right with the speed of a man half his age. Brienne barely blocked each blow as
he moved quickly. In that moment, his left hand felt as natural wielding the sword as his right hand
had. He hardly remembered the rest of his movements.

It was a series of fluid motions fueled by pain and rage and frustration. With a hard swing across
his body, Jaime knocked Oathkeeper from Brienne’s hand and pointed Widow’s Wail at her throat.

Brienne’s face spread into a wide smile at his victory, but Jaime couldn’t get the images out of his
head. He felt tears pooling at the back of his eyes and try as he might, he couldn’t push down the
pain. He just wanted to go away inside. The memories were too raw. Everything was churned up
and pushed to the surface since the moment Tywin returned earlier that day.

Jaime lowered his blade and felt his shoulders slump as he tried to mask the pain he felt inside. He
could never hide from Brienne though. Theirs was a bond stronger than what he had known with
any other, including his own twin. Brienne could read him without words. Without seeing his eyes.
Nights spent back to back as captives taught them to read the other’s body without seeing or
hearing. Their soundless nightmares woke each other up as their muscles told the stories playing
out in their sleep.

Brienne moved to Jaime and pulled him close as he sobbed into her neck. All Jaime’s thoughts
from seeing Tywin earlier that day tumbled out as he clung to her.

“It’s my fault. I failed him. They took his hand because of me. They tortured him because of me.
I’m always disappointing him. Always letting him down.”

Brienne’s hands clutched at Jaime’s back and head as she soothed him. “It is not your fault. Don’t
say that. You have never failed anyone; least of all your father. You’ll be the crown’s champion.
Please, just… don’t blame yourself.”

Now as Jaime stood at the balcony that morning, he sighed and turned to face Brienne who had
just finished getting ready. A slight swell was beginning to show and it served as a reminder of all
he fought for. He placed his flesh hand to Brienne’s belly and smiled at her.

Brienne’s expression was serious as she took his face in her hands. “Do you remember what you
told me the morning of my combat with the Mountain?”

Jaime smirked and bit back a laugh. “When in doubt, use your dour head as a battering ram.”

With a longsuffering sigh, Brienne closed her eyes and shook her head as she kept her hands firm
against his cheeks. “The other thing you dolt.”

Removing any mirth from his voice, Jaime smiled warmly. “To come back to me.”

Brienne placed a kiss to his lips before pulling him into a hug. “I know you’ll beat him. He looks
as pathetic as Locke and Roose. Must be a House trait. You lived. Now you take your revenge.”

Wrapping his arms around Brienne’s waist, Jaime closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I’m
going to kill him… for my father, for me, for Arya, and for you.”

They walked in silence to the arena; flanked by Ser Barristan and the rest of the Queensguard.
Upon arrival, the small council was already seated in the Queen’s box as were Tywin, Selwyn,
and the Starks sisters. While Jaime knew that Sansa had little desire to see the fight, the younger
wolf was bloodthirsty. In many ways, Arya reminded Jaime of a younger Brienne.

Jaime thought back on the conversation with Arya from the day prior. She had been watching from
a rock wall as he and Ser Barristan sparred for the better part of the morning. The two knights took
a break to drink water and wipe the sweat from their brows. Seizing the opportunity, Arya hopped
down from her perch and approached.

“Will you make it quick or will you make him suffer?”

The question struck Jaime odd coming from such a young girl. With furrowed brows, Jaime
glanced at Ser Barristan before responding. “He took my father’s hand just as his men took mine. I
don’t intend to give him a quick death.”

A wolfish smile tugged at her lips. “My sister says you lost your hand defending the queen from
rape. They were Bolton men?”

Jaime nodded wordlessly; anger simmering below his seemingly calm exterior. Arya’s next words
brought that simmer to a boil.
“So it seems torture and rape are as common to them as their house words.”

Both Barristan and Jaime gaped at the girl before Jaime found words. “Did he… Arya…”

The young girl tilted her chin up. “He came to me one night. Told me that we were to be wed to
keep the North at heel. When he noticed that I had been polishing my sword, he mocked me. Said
he would give me a new sword to play with on our wedding night, but that his sword would cut
deeper. He didn’t touch me. I think he was too busy punishing Tyrion’s whore. I heard her screams
at night. I knew what fate awaited me although I wouldn’t have gone down without a fight.”

Now as Jaime moved into the arena, he glanced at Arya. Her eyes mirrored his thoughts. Another
debt for Ramsay to pay.

All the Queensguard except Ser Barristan guarded Brienne in the queen’s box above the pit. At his
side, Barristan placed a grounding hand on the back of Jaime’s neck.

“Remember what we discussed. Don’t let your emotions get the best of you. Use your anger, but
not so much that it clouds your judgement and makes you sloppy.”

Jaime nodded in wordless acknowledgement of the older knight’s advice. He glanced to Brienne
who was in deep conversation with this father. He watched as Tywin’s brows furrowed at whatever
they were discussing; a look of regret on his face. Jaime didn’t have time to dwell on it as the
sound of armored guards approached.

Ramsay came around the corner in chains. He was flanked by Addam and Endrew who tugged him
along violently. The bastard was filthy but appeared eager to fight. When the chains were removed,
Ramsay was offered his choice of weapon and opted for the sword.

Good. I can embarrass you by sword before you die.

Pycelle shuffled out into the middle of the pit and began his spiel much to the dismay of those
assembled. As the aged grandmaester finished listing Ramsay’s accused offenses against the
crown, Jaime and Ramsay moved towards the center of the arena.

As was custom, they were to bow to the queen before the combat began. What Jaime had not
expected was Ramsay to break tradition and use the opportunity to swing at Jaime’s neck with his
sword.

The crowd gasped at the overt disrespect to the crown and Ramsay’s attempt to gain an unfair
advantage. Jaime dodged the blade just in time, but it caught the edge of Jaime’s left shoulder.

The cut wasn’t deep, but it bled profusely. Wincing in pain, Jaime brought Widow’s Wail up to
block the second strike from the bastard. A malicious smile tugged at Ramsay’s lips and a dark
cloud passed over his eyes.

“The best the crown can do is name a one-handed, aged, disgraced knight? I quite like my odds.”

Jaime’s lips curled in anger at the man before him, but he remembered Barristan’s words. They
began to circle one another, and Jaime appraised Ramsay’s movements as he once did Brienne on
the bridge.

He doesn’t move well. He is clumsy and likely accustomed to torturing chained prisoners more
than fighting fairly.

A small smile tugged at Jaime’s lips which only served to incite Ramsay. When the bastard
charged in again, Jaime deftly blocked the strike while moving left and slicing across the man’s
right leg.

Ramsay cried out and clutched his thigh with his free hand. He snarled at Jaime and immediately
moved to lunge forward again. Jaime blocked the next two strikes easily while spinning under the
third slice. As he spun under, he sliced across Ramsay’s other thigh.

Jaime was toying with the bastard. The bastard lacked finesse and patience; a dangerous
combination. As Ramsay turned to face Jaime, he was met with a hard hit to the face by Jaime’s
golden hand.

“Do you like my new hand, Ramsay? I wanted to be certain you saw it up close.”

A feral expression flashed across Ramsay’s face as blood poured from his nose. He lunged forward
with his sword, but Jaime easily batted it away. He made two quick cuts across each of Ramsay’s
shoulders. As blood now covered each of Ramsay’s limbs, Jaime smiled and appraised him.

“Are you bored Ramsay? I hear you don’t like to be bored. Mayhap it is best you pay your debts
and we get this over with.” With another series of animalistic swings, Ramsay grunted and lunged
at Jaime.

Using the bastard’s momentum, Jaime quickly blocked the blows and then used the hilt to knock
Ramsay across the temple. As the bastard fell to the ground dazed, Jaime put his foot over
Ramsay’s right arm to hold it in place.

Raising his sword in the air, Jaime growled at him. “I believe you owe my father a hand.” Jaime’s
sword sliced down and through Ramsay’s right wrist. The bastard cried out in pain and clutched at
his arm. Blood poured from the wrist and onto the ground below.

Walking around Ramsay with a vicious glare, Jaime kicked the bastard in the face, sending him flat
to his back. In a similar motion, Jaime put his foot on Ramsay’s left arm and again raised his sword
high. “I believe your House owes me a hand as well.”

Jaime cut clean through Ramsay’s left wrist and the crowd gasped at the scene. Blood covered the
arena floor as Jaime stalked around Ramsay’s flailing body. The bastard cried out in pain as tears
streamed down his face.

Repeating Locke’s words to him, Jaime leaned down and whispered. “Your daddy’s not here to
save you now.”

“Please! Mercy!” Ramsay cried out as Jaime continued to pace before him.

“Did you show my father mercy? Did your men show me mercy?”

Jaime produced a dagger from his belt. He studied it for a moment before looking down to Ramsay
with a vicious snarl. “My apologies. I went straight for the hand without removing the digits first.
That is in fact what you did to my father, correct?”

Appraising the bastard, Jaime could tell Ramsay was fading quickly from blood loss. Ramsay
struggled for breath and continued to beg for mercy. “Please. No more.” The bastard’s eyes started
to flutter and roll back in his head.

“Do you know what Locke and his men attempted to do to my wife? I hear your House enjoys
forcing themselves on people. I hear you enjoy it too. Were you going to try and force yourself on
the young wolf that I swore an oath to protect? She was not pleased by what you promised to do to
her on your wedding night. Mayhap I should let her finish you off.”

Looking to Arya, Jaime could see the glee in the young girl’s eyes. Jaime took the dagger and
thrust it into Ramsay’s crotch. “There. Now we don’t need to worry about you threatening to rape
little girls.”

Jaime reached back for Widow’s Wail. He grabbed Ramsay by the hair and tugged him upright,
pushing him back to sit on his heels. Squatting to meet Ramsay’s eyes, Jaime studied him for a
moment before speaking.

“Remind me Ramsay, what are your father’s House words? Our blades our sharp? I do believe a
lion’s fangs are sharper.”

Jaime thrust Widow’s Wail straight through Ramsay’s throat. The blade exited the other side of the
bastard’s gullet as pieces of flesh and blood dripped off the blade. With a pivot of his wrist and
firm yank to the right, Jaime cut the blade clear through the side of Ramsay’s neck; effectively
severing most of his head.

As the bastard crumpled to the ground, Jaime stood upright and turned towards his queen. He
bowed and then met her eyes; a satisfied look on his face. Brienne nodded in approval before
looking to Arya and Tywin. Jaime’s eyes glanced to his father who looked on in shock.

And now, the debt is paid.

Not long after arriving back at the Keep and receiving treatment for his shoulder, a knock came at
Jaime’s door. He had just finished clothing himself after a quick bath to wash away the blood that
had sprayed onto his face and body from the trial.

Glancing around the room, Jaime looked for where he had set down his false hand. The punch to
Ramsay’s face had caused fresh bleeding on his stump and it had felt good to remove the weighty
prosthetic. Considering whether to put the false hand back on, Jaime opted to leave it off.

It was likely the staff had come by to retrieve his bloodied attire from the fight. Jaime had left the
clothes crumpled in a pile by the bath. On the table nearby, Jaime’s freshly cleaned sword rested
caught the sun’s rays streaming in from the balcony.

Jaime’s hair short, golden hair dripped slightly as he made his way to the door. He moved his
stump behind his back as he opened the door. Jaime was surprised to find his father on the other
side.

Tywin was looking less pale than the first day he returned, but he was still a far cry from the force
Jaime knew him to be. Tywin’s hand clasped his own maimed wrist at his back in an effort to
present himself as the opposing figure he liked to seem.

“Jaime, may I come in?”

Stepping back from the door, Jaime nodded wordlessly and watched his father enter the room. The
door creaked shut as Jaime closed it. Looking back to his false hand, Jaime moved quickly to
retrieve it. He knew that Tywin detested the sight of his failure as much as Cersei had.

“You did well out there today. I can see you’ve been training hard on the left.”

Keeping his back to Tywin as he picked up the false hand, Jaime tried to play at indifference. “Yes,
well I recall someone once told me that I would never be as good with the left. I wanted to prove
him wrong.”
Tywin huffed at Jaime’s back as Jaime worked frantically to cover his maimed wrist. He was
surprised when Tywin appeared at his side and grabbed the prosthetic. “You’re bleeding.”

With a shrug, Jaime muttered in response and tried to cover the stump. “It happens sometimes.”

“Sometimes… as in when you punch someone in the face with it?”

Jaime could do little more than snort at the words. He felt Tywin’s hand come to his wrist and tug
it towards his face. “This has not healed properly. I daresay mine looks better.”

“The prosthetic chafes the skin. I suppose you just get used to the discomfort after some time.”

Tywin narrowed his eyes in response. “Then you won’t wear it. You are whole without it.”

What?

Jaime’s brows furrowed at the words, but Tywin was already moving away and towards the
balcony. He stopped at the edge of the room before stepping outside and spoke from over his
shoulder.

“Your wife and I had an interesting conversation at the arena today. She said you blame yourself
for this.” Tywin lifted his stump to provide the necessary context but still, he did not turn around.

This was the conversation Jaime had been avoiding. Jaime cleared his throat and studied his father.
“I would wager they spoke of me when they took your hand.”

At his words, Tywin turned to face Jaime but refused to answer the question. Jaime thought verbal
confirmation unnecessary. The truth was written on Tywin’s face. Jaime looked down at this stump
and took a steadying breath. “I’m sorry for it.”

Putting his arms behind his back mirroring his earlier posture, Tywin walked towards Jaime.
“When I was being held at the Rock, I had a lot of time to think. I thought on a number of topics,
but on the matter of you, I struggled with something.” Tywin’s words were laced with uncertainty
as he continued.

“The day you were born, I had a very specific plan for you. Of what you would be. Of what you
would do to further our House’s position. Naturally you had a different plan.”

Jaime felt his stomach drop at Tywin’s words. It was one thing to believe yourself a
disappointment, but another to hear it spoken aloud. Jaime braced himself for his father’s
condemning words.

“Of course, you defied me at every turn. I wanted you to wed, have heirs, and rule the Rock in my
stead. You wanted to be a knight. You wanted honor more than power. A white cloak more than a
crimson cloak. You were rather emphatic in your desire for knighthood. All your focus, behaviors,
and decisions aligned to that goal… except one. Why did you kill Aerys?”

The question caught Jaime off guard.

He loses his hand because of me and asks why I killed Aerys? What is he getting at? Why is he
asking me this now? He never cared before.

Jaime could hardly help the surprise on his face as his mouth gaped. He took a steadying breath
and told his father the truth of it. Jaime did not know what reaction he expected from Tywin, but it
was not what he received.
Tywin grabbed Jaime’s chin hard with his left hand and tugged Jaime’s head up to meet his eyes.
“Let me be clear on things. My maiming is not your fault. You have never failed me nor
disappointed me. I have failed you every day since the day you were born. Your path was the
proper one. Not mine. I am proud to call you my son though I do not deserve the honor.”

Jaime felt his chin quiver in Tywin’s grasp and inwardly berated himself for the weakness. He tried
to avert his tearing eyes, but Tywin held Jaime’s chin in place. “Your mother was the true strength
of our family because she loved fiercely. She wore her heart for all to see as you do. Your emotions
are not a weakness. They are your strength. I am just a bitter old man realizing it too late.”

Releasing his chin, Tywin grabbed Jaime at the nape of his neck and pulled him to his chest. Jaime
stiffened at the initial contact. He had never been hugged by his father. Brienne aside, he could
count on one hand the amount of times anyone hugged him for that matter.

After the initial shock wore off, Jaime returned the embrace as Tywin spoke quietly against Jaime’s
head. “Forgive me, son.”
 Thirst For Blood
Chapter Summary

The small council decides what to do with their guilty prisoners.

“So, you’re a queen and a knight?” Arya continued to pepper Brienne with questions from her seat
on the rock wall.

With a small laugh, Brienne nodded. “Yes, it would seem so.”

Brienne considered the fact and chuckled inwardly.

All my life, I knew myself to be the rightful heir to the throne, but I didn’t want it. All my life, I
wanted to be a knight, but I believed that I could never have the title. Now I am both.

Looking back to Pod, Brienne corrected his grip and they began again. Pod made the necessary
adjustment and lunged out towards her. His form was improving, and Brienne was impressed with
how well he responded to feedback.

Brienne had warmed quite a lot to Pod. He was sweet, loyal, honorable, and compassionate. The
young man was eager to please and never late for training. That was one thing Brienne could not
tolerate. Tardiness. She was a woman of discipline and expected the same from Pod.

Brienne could sense Arya approach as the young wolf hopped off the rock wall. “Did your father
teach you to fight like that? He seems a real force.”

“Yes and no. Our Master-at-arms taught me, but my father trained with me when the other soldiers
on the island couldn’t keep up.” A small smile spread across Brienne’s face at the memory.

When Galladon died, Brienne picked up his sword and took to the yards. She knew from a young
age that she would never make a proper lady. Despite her wish to marry and have a family of her
own, Brienne was made aware early one of her unattractiveness and lack of desirability. Her father
struggled to find her matches over the years and those who accepted never made it to the sept.

Brienne decided to be her own knight. To fight for herself when no one else would. Selwyn had
caught her training in the yards and growled at her to put down the bloody sword. He told her that
fighting was for boys. When she refused to put down the sword and continued to fight with the
boys anyway, Selwyn relented.

“If you’re going to do it, you might as well do it right.” Selwyn taught her the basics and then had
Ser Goodwin take over. When she progressed to the point where even Ser Goodwin struggled to
keep up, Selwyn took over.

At first, she could never beat her father. He was too big, too strong, and too skilled. He did not go
easy on her and he never let her win. She had to earn every hit and every victory. Soon, she was
beating him soundly.

Arya moved closer and appraised her. “Will you teach me? Can I stay here in King’s Landing a
while longer?”
The request caught Brienne off guard. “I thought you were eager to get home to your brother.” Jon
was expected in the capital within a moon’s turn. He was coming to meet with the queen and small
council about the needs of the North and to bring his sisters home. He was also insistent on
discussing some threat beyond the wall.

Likely wildlings I suppose.

Arya shrugged. “I am excited to see Jon and I’ll eventually go back, but I want to learn to fight. My
father allowed me to take sword lessons before he died. I know I can be good at it if given the
chance. Then I can help Jon defend the North.”

With a smile and a nod, Brienne agreed. “You’re welcome to stay as long as you like. I’m sworn to
protect you and your sister and I’m happy to train you. I’m sure Ser Jaime, Ser Addam, and Ser
Endrew will spar with you too.”

Arya’s eyes went wide at the offer. “Ser Jaime will train me!?”

Brienne snorted. There’s that famous name again. I beat his ass, but fine. Lets pat Jaime on the
head. He does enjoy having his ego stroke. I only pray he can continue to fit that giant head of his
through the doors.

“I believe he would be happy to. Just go easy on him. He’s getting quite old.” At her words,
Tyrion’s voice could be heard in the distance. He was walking with Sansa towards the yards and
talking animatedly. Brienne couldn’t help but notice the wide smiles on both of their faces as they
approached.

Arya groaned in distaste at the sight. She muttered under her breath, but the words were loud
enough for Brienne to hear them. “I wouldn’t be so certain about Sansa going home.”

Before Brienne could clarify the matter, Tyrion and Sansa had reached her. With a dramatic bow,
Tyrion smirked up at her. “Your Grace. Ser Brienne Lannister of Tarth. Blood of the…”

“Gods, not that now. Please. Just Brienne.” This is all Jaime’s fault. He announces my arrival with
ten new titles everywhere I turn up… even if I’m getting up to use the privy.

“The small council awaits. Well… plus a few extra guests. Lady Arya, if you would be so kind.”
Tyrion pointed towards the council and Brienne couldn’t help but notice the gleeful expression on
the young girl’s face. It was time to discuss the punishments for the guilty prisoners. The trial was
the day prior and they needed to plan the punishments.

Tywin had decided to stay at the Keep until the babe arrived. He was struggling to adjust to life
with one hand and Jaime had been helping him and giving advice along the way. It warmed
Brienne’s heart to watch their interactions from afar.

Jaime would never admit it, but he craved approval and love from his father. He hid behind snarky
remarks and feigned distaste, but he enjoyed having his father around. Even Tyrion seemed to
enjoy Tywin’s presence of late.

Her goodfather seemed to have mellowed out. He was still opinionated and stiff, but there was a
warmth to him that Brienne had not seen before in the brief moons she knew him.

Selwyn was leaving the capital after the guilty were dealt with and heading home to Tarth for a
moon. From there, her father would make his way to Storm’s End to help Tommen settle into his
new role. Selwyn would serve as a bridge between Tommen and the vassals.
As they made their way through the castle, Brienne noted the closeness of Tyrion and Sansa. Since
Shae’s betrayal and Tywin’s capture, the two had become closer. It was a welcome sight. Both had
been through a lot and were of similar personality. They were also very smart and seemed to
bounce ideas off one of another well.

Making their way into the small council chambers, Brienne noted that the room was abuzz with
activity. Selwyn and Tywin were deep in conversation at one end of the table. Olenna and Genna
were barking at the attendants to refill the cheese platter. Oberyn was asking what sounded like
rather inappropriate questions about Varys anatomical alterations. Jaime and Daenerys were…
flinging grapes at one another.

Oh gods.

As Brienne approached, everyone stopped to bow, and she waved them off imploringly. “Gods
would you all stop that. Please.” Only Selwyn remained seated and muttered. “I changed her
nappies when she was a babe. I’m done standing. My knees hurt.”

Truly, father? You couldn’t just leave it at the knees bit.

“And I take them off her now, so I guess I’ll sit too.”

Brienne gawked at Jaime and shook her head. Noted. I will kill Jaime later. Consortslayer.

As the new arrivals took their seats, Tyrion began the council. “We need to decide on the execution
method for the guilty. I do believe we should just keep it straightforward. A simple beheading
before the masses…”

“No!” The same reply came from everyone gathered around the table.

“Fine. You all decide if you’re so smart.” Tyrion sat back and crossed his arms like a child whose
toy had been taken away.

“How about a melee? Us against them, but only we get weapons?” At Arya’s suggestion, Jaime
guffawed and nodded approvingly. Pointing to Arya and then Sansa, Jaime japed. “I like this one
better than that one. She’s vicious.”

Sansa feigned insult and waved him off as the attendant rushed back over with a refreshed cheese
platter.

“Where are the grapes!?” Jaime whined as he leaned forward and appraised the plate of food.

“I’m sorry m’lord. The ladies requested cheese.” The attendant glanced to Genna and Olenna who
smirked at Jaime. Olenna patted the attendant’s arm approvingly and leaned forward to take some
cheese. “You did good, boy. Now where is my wine?”

Speaking over Olenna’s question, Jaime scoffed at the attendant and clutched his chest. “I’m much
more important than them. I’m more important to the queen and the realm and I’m much prettier.”

“You are not more important than us! Besides, you had your grapes already. Half of them are on
the floor!” With an unimpressed glare, Genna reprimanded Jaime and leaned forward to indulge in
some cheese.

“That’s not my fault! Daenerys has shit aim! My mouth is a very big target.”

That’s true.
Daenerys snorted and raised a hand in protest. “Don’t blame me for this. You kept moving your
head.”

“I was simulating flight! I thought it would be easier since you’re always flying about on that lizard
of yours.” Jaime thrust his arms out like a bird.

Gods we’ll be here all day.

Selwyn brought the room back to the topic at hand. “Can someone just tell me when I get to hit
someone!? I’ve been waiting patiently for some time. Those two got the last two bouts. It’s my
turn.”

“You got to hit people at Casterly Rock! I haven’t hit anyone. This is bullshit.” Arya pouted at
Sansa’s side. Her outburst drew the attention of the room. It was Jaime who broken the stunned
silence.

“Aren’t you five or something?”

“I am not five. Your father promised that he would help me collect my names.”

“I said that I would help you complete your list. Not that you would swing the blade.” Tywin’s
tone was dry and unamused as he appraised the young girl.

Brienne sighed and rubbed her forehead. “We only have four prisoners and the crown should swing
the blade since it is the crown’s sentence.”

Jaime smiled triumphantly and looked to the room before leaning back cockily. “Good. I look
forward to it.”

“What!? How is that fair? He just got Ramsay!” Selwyn objected and pointed his finger at Brienne.
“This is nepotism!”

“If it was nepotism, father, then I would be offering you a kill as well. I never said it would be
Jaime. I should do it. It’s the crown’s judgement. The people should know that I won’t send out
assassins to kill people. I also need to ensure the execution methods are reasonable. It’s one thing
to torture a man during trial by combat, but these men requested a trial and are expecting a
beheading.”

Suddenly everyone was objecting and complaining at her. The volume in the room rose to an
unbearable level and Brienne just wanted to leave them all to fight it out. She closed her eyes and
tried to block out the room.

“Alright, enough!” Brienne screamed, taking everyone in the room by surprise. Even Jaime sat
back suddenly as though struck by lightning and offered an audible “ohhhh”.

“I understand you all want some part in this revenge, but there must be decorum about it. I will not
allow petty thirst for revenge to overshadow just punishment by the crown. I will name a crown’s
executioner for each of the four prisoners. You will approach me with what you would see done to
your charge. If it is reasonable, the execution may proceed.”

No one in the room moved to object as all eyes remained fixed on their laps. With a deep sigh,
Brienne looked around the room. “For crimes against House Stark, I will allow Arya the
opportunity to execute Walder Frey.”

“Yes!” Arya clapped her hands eagerly as everyone else groaned. Jaime muttered at her side.
“Hardly seems fair. She still has a bedtime.”

“Do shut up, Jaime! You just got to kill Ramsay. You’ve had your fun.” Taking a deep breath,
Brienne continued. “For crimes against House Lannister, Lord Tywin will get to execute Qyburn.”

“Ha! That’s my girl!” Tywin’s lips pulled into a wide smile as he hit the table with his hand and
nodded at her.

Selwyn looked aghast. “Everyone is getting to have fun but me. This is shit.”

Brienne glared at her father and he sank back in his chair and pouted. “For crimes against literally
everyone, Lady Sansa will get to execute or decide upon an execution method for Petyr Baelish. If
she prefers someone deliver her execution method, Tyrion will do the honors.”

“Happy to be of service to my lady wife!” Tyrion smiled widely and grasped Sansa’s forearm as
the young woman smiled eagerly at the opportunity. Brienne wanted to give this honor to Sansa
since it was Littlefinger who tried on numerous occasions to steal away with her. The horror at
what could have befallen Sansa at his hands was not lost on Brienne. The young woman deserved
this.

“And lastly… for crimes against House Lannister, House Tarth and House Stark…” Jaime and
Selwyn sat forward eagerly and looked to her expectantly. Brienne could hear Jaime whispering a
prayer at her side. “Oh gods… pick me, pick me, pick me.”

“…I name my father as executioner of Roose Bolton.” Brienne would have enjoyed killing Roose
herself, but in fairness, she did get to kill Stannis and the Mountain. She didn’t want to be greedy
about it.

Selwyn stood from his chair and shouted as he raised his hands into the air. “Yes! That is what I’ve
been waiting for! That miserable shit gave you to his pet rat as a reward and I will see him suffer
for it!”

Yes, that is why I gave you Roose, father.

Jaime sighed at her side and shrugged. Placing a consoling hand on his lap, Brienne leaned into his
ear. “I’ll make it up to you in other ways.”

Jaime’s eyelids grew heavy with lust as a knowing smile spread across his face. “Gods I love you.”

Looking back to the room, Brienne continued. “As this should truly be a beheading, I just ask that
you at least behead them all when you’re done with them so that we can at least say they were
beheaded.”

“Abso-fucking-lutely!” Selwyn clapped and sat back down; seemingly satisfied with the outcome
of the meeting.

With a slight shrug to Daenerys and Oberyn, Brienne offered consoling words. “I do hope your
thirst for blood has been quenched after the battle with Stannis. Mayhap we can feed the bodies to
the dragons?”

Daenerys’ eyes shone with excitement as she nodded to her kin. “They would love that! Just be
warned, once you give them a tasty snack, you’ll be their new best friend and they’ll follow you
everywhere.”

“How do you know we don't want to partake in the fun?” Olenna scoffed form her seat and took
another piece of cheese.

Neither Olenna nor Genna were fighters, so the question caught Brienne off-guard. “You… want to
execute someone?”

Olenna hummed and raised a brow as she considered the question. “No, not really. I suppose I
would settle for a nice vintage of wine and a front row seat.”

Genna nodded while looking to Olenna. She turned to Brienne and spoke commandingly. “I’ll have
what she’s having.”
 Reasonable Torture Only
Chapter Summary

Decisions are (almost entirely) made on how to execute their prisoners.

Chapter Notes

One more "light" chapter before a more plot filled chapter.

See the end of the chapter for more notes

“That is horrible. I said no torture.”

Jaime watched in amusement as Brienne scolded her father for the fifth time that morning. All of
Selwyn’s ideas had been gruesome and Jaime was secretly loving it.

Roose was a horrible man and Jaime thought he deserved the worst torture. Roose turned on his
own king and contributed to the Red Wedding. He gave Brienne to Locke as a reward. He tried to
legitimize his bastard who got off on torturing and raping people. He turned on Tywin and allowed
Ramsay to take his father’s hand.

Selwyn threw up his hands in exasperation. “What would you not consider torture?”

“You can rough him up a little bit and then behead him.” Brienne took another bite of the breakfast
that Alice had sent up to the room. It was still early, and Brienne was sitting with her legs crossed
in a nightgown and a housecoat.

Jaime couldn’t help staring at her. Brienne’s long legs were hidden just enough for propriety sake
given her father’s presence, but Jaime’s eyes were already undressing her. Her plump lips pursed
together as she chewed and sweet syrup clung to them.

Gods I want to lick the syrup off and…

“Jaime. Are you paying attention? Do you have nothing to say on the matter?”

Realizing he had been caught staring, Jaime shifted in his chair and tried to conceal his growing
problem. “Um, yes. Sounds lovely.”

Both Tarths tilted their head and looked at him strangely.

Glancing to her father in confusion, Brienne looked at Jaime with narrowed eyes. “My father’s last
suggestion was to throw Roose into a pit with a lion and a wooden sword. A bit of a twist on the
bear pit.”

Oh.

Pretending his answer was intended, Jaime replied as confidently as he could. “And it is a lovely
idea.”

Right, good save upper head. Damn you lower head.

Brienne sighed and looked out over the city. “You’re both entirely inappropriate. I’m sorry, father,
but I can’t let you do any of the things you’ve suggested. It is far too barbaric. Even Ramsay got
off easier and he was the worst of them.”

Selwyn sighed and stood form his seat. “Fine. I’ll think on it some more and come back later. Just
remember… this man gave you as a reward to Locke. You can’t blame me for this.”

Standing from his chair, Selwyn walked to the door with Brienne trailing him. They spoke in
hushed tones before she shoved Selwyn into the hallway and told him to consider more acceptable
ideas. As she walked back over, Jaime watched as Brienne’s hair fell into her face.

It had grown longer of late and was hanging just at her chin. She kept complaining that it needed
cutting but she had been too busy to find time. Jaime mused that she would look good no matter
what, but the longer hair somehow made her look softer. It was either that or the slowly forming
bump from their babe.

Before she could move to her seat, Jaime grabbed her wrist and pulled Brienne to his lap. He
tugged her legs forward so that she was straddling him and pushed back her housecoat. Capturing
her lips, Jaime hummed contentedly. “No more guests. I need wench time.”

Brienne chuckled against his mouth and sighed contentedly. Jaime’s right arm wrapped around her
hips as his left hand made its way up Brienne’s leg. Deepening the kiss, Jaime slowly moved his
hand under her gown and to her smallclothes. He pulled aside the fabric and began rubbing circles
against her nub.

“Gods, Jaime. Not on the balcony.” Brienne tried to standup, but he held her firmly in place.

“It’s alright. I know the queen.” At his words, Brienne chuckled again. “You keep saying that, but
the problem is the queen lives in a castle full of very nosey and very annoying people.”

As Jaime dipped a finger between her folds, Brienne moaned and the sound went straight to his
cock. He needed her desperately and pulled her closer to him with his right arm. Adding a second
finger, Jaime felt Brienne’s hands come to the laces of his breeches as their mouths crashed
together.

Brienne reached between them and grasped his cock; stroking the length of him with her long, deft
fingers. Their kissing became frantic and sloppy. Jaime dropped his head to Brienne’s chest and
sucked at her nipple through the fabric of her nightgown. It was in moments such as this that he
longed for his missing hand.

Removing his fingers from her cunt, Jaime lifted her slightly before lowering her onto his aching
cock. With his hand now unoccupied, Jaime pushed aside the fabric of her nightgown as her
housecoat fell to the ground. Drawing her nipple into his mouth, Jaime groaned at the feel of her
tight walls around him. Brienne began to ride him, and her hands fisted into his hair.

Her head tipped back in pleasure as Jaime tormented her nipple. Brienne began to ride him faster
and the change in angle felt incredible. Unable to control himself, Jaime began to meet her thrusts.
The chair began to wobble under them, but Jaime couldn’t be bothered to care. His mind was
consumed with Brienne.

“Fuck. Gods, Brienne.” Jaime felt his release nearing as his tongue went back to its assault on her
nipple. Taking her in mouth, Brienne gasped and drove harder against him. Their pace quickened
as they met each other thrust for thrust. They reached their peak together with a few aggressive
thrusts, but the chair gave way below them and they went toppling backwards onto the balcony.

“Shit! Fuck, Brienne. Are you alright? The babe!” Jaime reached for her belly and met her eyes.
Brienne’s eyes were wide in shock as she looked at the destroyed chair behind them. Looking back
at him, her shock gave way to a roar of laughter.

Brienne sat back while continuing to straddle him. The sound of her laugh sent warmth through his
body. Brienne’s uninhibited laughter was a favorite sound… second only to her moans.

“Jaime. We broke the chair.” Jaime was flat on his back, still buried deep in her cunt. He lifted
himself onto his elbows and peered around her hip. The legs of the chair were broken off and the
back of the chair looked no better.

“Gods. It’s completely fucked. Brienne. You broke it.” Jaime tried to muffle his laugh as he teased
her.

Brienne swatted his chest and scoffed. “Me! You were the one thrusting up at me like some wild
animal!”

As the shock wore off, Jaime realized how much his back and elbows hurt from the fall. He
imagined she was feeling quite tender too. “Are you alright?”

Brienne slowly moved off him and rubbed at her knees. His softening cock glistened from their
shared release as he watched Brienne appraise her legs. “My knees hurt. These will be interesting
bruises to explain. Good thing I wear breeches all the time.”

Sitting upright, Jaime rubbed his elbow before tucking his cock back into his breeches. “We should
add Destroyer of Chairs to your title. I’m afraid to let you near the Iron Throne now.”

With a warning glare, Brienne slowly stood from the floor and rubbed at her knees. We should get
ready for the day. We’ve done enough damage in here for one morning.

They dressed quickly and freshened up before heading towards the throne room. Jaime stole
glances at Brienne as they went; his eyes drifting to her belly. A smile spread across his face as she
absently rubbed the growing bump. It was something she did a lot but didn’t seem to realize. An
almost maternal instinct.

She’ll make an amazing mother to our babes. All twenty of them.

They were expected to oversee another long morning of petitioners. Brienne and Tyrion handled
most of the decisions, but from time to time they sought Jaime’s opinion. It was horrible and
tedious, but Jaime had come to expect it. Most of his life in the Kingsguard was spent standing for
hours on end in those very meetings or at least until Robert became too drunk to attend.

Upon arrival, the court was already full, and everyone was speaking in hushed tones. The attendees
stood at the queen’s arrival, and Jaime bit back a laugh as Brienne groaned in annoyance at the
formality of it all.

They walked up the stairs to an awaiting Tyrion. Jaime’s eyes flitted to the Iron Throne and he
spoke into his hand to conceal his words. “Careful wench. We don’t need you destroying any more
furniture today.”

At the comment, Tyrion raised a brow at them curiously. Brienne grumbled as she took her seat
and looked to Tyrion to begin.

With every passing petitioner, Jaime felt himself shrinking lower and lower into his chair. He
wondered if he could slowly work into a reclined position and nap without anyone noticing. At the
base of the stairs, Ser Barristan smirked at the sight.

Jaime was a knight first and foremost. I belong down there with Barristan, standing guard; not
sitting in a chair and feigning interest in squabbles between a tavern owner and patron.

Leaning to Brienne, he sat upright and spoke in hushed tones. “I thought Daenerys was supposed to
rule over the Crownlands. Wasn’t that meant to be a benefit to us while giving her some power she
sought?”

Speaking through gritted teeth, Brienne answered curtly. “She is. These petitioners are only from
King’s Landing.”

Seven hells. Does everyone in this damn city have an issue with someone else?

Mercifully, court ended, and Jaime was ready to move to the yards to swing his sword at someone.
Before they could leave, he saw Arya approach. “I know what I want to do.”

Jaime glanced at Brienne and watched as she considered the young girl. “Alright. What do you
have in mind? And remember Arya, you’ll need to live with this after.”

With an exaggerated eye roll, the young girl clasped her hands behind her back and rocked from
toe to heel. “He poisoned my family. He stabbed my brother’s babe in the womb. He ordered my
mother’s throat slit. I will see him poisoned. A painful, yet slow working poison. I will stab him in
the gut with needle. Enough to hurt, but not even to kill. Then, before the poison and blood loss
takes him, I will slit his throat. I want my face to be the last thing he sees before he meets the
Stranger.”

Brienne sighed deeply and considered the approach. “Arya, this may haunt you. I’m not so
certain...”

“I’m already haunted by it. I was there that night with the Hound. I saw them parade the head of
Robb’s direwolf on my brother’s decapitated body. I stopped being an innocent when the Freys,
Boltons, and Lannisters destroyed my family.” Arya’s tone was cold and brokered no argument.

With a nod, Brienne agreed. “Very well. Grandmaester Pycelle can help provide an appropriate
poison.”

Arya smiled wolfishly. “I already know the poison I want, but a lower dose so that it kills slower. I
hear the version of it used here in King’s Landing at a certain wedding was a rather strong.”

Jaime stiffened at the words. He did not miss Joffrey nor have sympathy for the boy’s fate, but the
poison used was horrible. It seemed borderline inhumane. He could feel Brienne glance at him
seeking approval. With an agreeing nod, Jaime watched as Brienne turned back to Arya and
approved the method.

“On the morrow you can execute Walder Frey. We’ll have his head taken after.” Brienne’s words
were laced with worry. It was obvious to Jaime what plagued her. She wanted to be fair to
prisoners. Unlike her predecessors, Brienne had no intent to rule by fear nor desire to be cruel.

Jaime and Brienne moved out from the throne room and to the yards. It was a warm day and Jaime
was eager to get his blood flowing. The earlier session in court was draining and did little to keep
his attention.

They sparred for some time together before training Pod. The familiar voices of Sansa and Tyrion
reached Jaime’s ears as they took a water break. The pair walked up to them enthusiastically and
looked to Brienne.

“We thought of what to do with Littlefinger.” Sansa’s tone was excited, and Jaime wondered what
punishment the pair had devised. They were both thinkers, not fighters, so Jaime imagined this
would be quite the opposite approach from his goodfather’s ideas earlier that day.

Earlier in the day when we had four balcony chairs. Now we have three and kindling.

Sansa took a deep breath and looked to Tyrion for support before speaking. “Littlefinger whispers
poison into the ears of others. He turns kin against kin. Friend against friend. First, I would see his
ears removed. The ears he used to gather information from his spies. Then I would see his tongue
removed. The tongue he used to speak lies to those he viewed as little more than pawns in his
game. Then I would see his eyes removed. The eyes he used to roam my body without consent.
Then I would see his cock removed. He forced women to use their bodies to obtain the information
he sought; often by way of threat. I would see him spend a day like this. Then he will be beheaded.
Tyrion will perform the method of execution but has asked for Jaime’s aid beheading the man. I
admittedly have not the stomach nor the strength for it.”

Jaime gaped at the pair before him. Seven hells. Noted. Do not to piss my goodsister off.

Brienne cringed at Jaime’s side but nodded hesitantly at the pair before them. “I’m not fond of this,
but alright. This can only be done in the cell. I can’t have word of this getting out. On the morrow
you can put the first phase into action. He will be beheaded the day after.”

Turning to Jaime, Brienne’s brows knitted in worry. “We should only have men we trust guard the
cells tomorrow. I do not want word of these methods getting out. They are too barbaric.”

After returning to sparring, Selwyn approached. He again offered gruesome ideas that were far
worse than Sansa’s and Arya’s ideas. He again received rejection of his ideas from Brienne.

Gods. She truly is no fun. I particularly liked the bit where Selwyn wanted to have Roose watch as
hounds ate his severed limbs until he was nothing but a giant stump himself.

Jaime watched as his goodfather stomped off towards the castle in a huff. From Jaime’s side,
Brienne muttered and sheathed her sword. “Honestly. What is wrong with my father? I’m
beginning to worry.”

Jaime looked to her and grabbed her hand. “Your father received a ransom letter and his offer was
rejected. Roose instead gave you to Locke to use for his sick pleasure. If anyone tried to hurt our
babe like that, I would do far worse than what Selwyn is recommending.”

Brienne sighed and shook her head. “It needs to be reasonable, Jaime. I don’t want to be thought of
as another mad Targaryen. I want the crown to be just.”

Cupping her cheek in his hand, Jaime looked to her sternly. “You could never be like them. Don’t
say that. You are just and honorable and good.” Jaime leaned up to kiss her. They made their way
inside to have a bath before lunch. After the morning’s balcony sex and training in the yard, Jaime
had worked up quite the appetite and he was eager to eat.

As they made their way to the hall for lunch, Jaime was surprised to see his father waiting outside.
“Ah! There you are. I’ve come to share my thoughts on how to deal with Qyburn.”
Jaime sighed inwardly and looked to Brienne. The trio moved into the hall and at their entry, the
attendants scrambled to get them food and drink. Jaime took a seat next to Brienne as Tywin sat
across the table from them.

Tywin raised a brow and questioned Brienne. “Has all the wildfire been discarded yet?”

“Not all, but most. It’s a slower process than I would like. They’re ensuring it is disposed of using
the safest methods possible.” Brienne’s voice reflected her worry over the wildfire’s continued
presence in the city despite most of it being removed thus far. It was one thing that both she and
Jaime were eager to be rid of.

At her response, Tywin’s lips curled into a wide smile. “Good. Tyrion told me a most interesting
story of Aerion Targaryen. Brightflame they called him. He died consuming wildfire like the
madman he was. Qyburn was going to destroy others with wildfire at Baelish’s request, so I think it
only fitting the substance is how he meets his end. I would like to see him consume it and burn
from within.”

Oh fuck. That is… dark. What is wrong with everyone in this Keep?

Looking to Brienne, Jaime’s brows raised in question. She looked repulsed at the idea. An unease
settled over her features. “I… I don’t know.”

Turning to Jaime, Brienne asked him wordlessly for an opinion. Jaime sighed and considered it. He
hated seeing men consumed by flames. Nightmares of Aerys plagued him, but surely, this was
different. It wasn’t as though Qyburn would catch fire. He would merely die from inability to
digest the substance.

With a slight cringe, Jaime looked to Brienne. “It would help remove more of the substance…”

Brienne contemplated the method and looked back to Tywin. With a sigh, she relented. “Alright.
On the morrow. We certainly can’t risk burning his body afterwards. I wouldn’t give it to the
dragons either.”

A pleased expression spread across Tywin’s face. As the attendants returned and set down their
food, Tywin smiled and dove into his meal. Jaime moved to pickup his fork, but Tywin’s voice
caught his attention.

“Oh! I almost forgot. Jaime, here.” Tywin produced a gold chain from his pocket. There was a lion
pendant in the middle with small rubies for eyes. It looked to be a child’s necklace, but Jaime
wasn’t certain.

“Your mother gave it to you as a boy. You wore it all the time until the chain broke and when she
died… well… I never got around to having it fixed. Gods, you were upset the day it broke. You
used to run around the Rock pretending to be a lion when you were a tot. Scaring all the attendants,
leaping out of alcoves.”

Tywin chuckled to himself as he spoke, and Jaime could hear Brienne muffling a laugh at his side.
It was strange seeing his father reminisce on warmer memories and Jaime wished he could
remember it himself. Then the mirth in Tywin’s tone dropped as he muttered absently. “I thought
you might want it for your babe.”

Jaime smiled at his father and took the chain. “Thank you. The babe can fight me for it. Maybe I
want to wear it and run around the Keep jumping out at everyone.”

The rest of the day moved along quickly. After lunch, the small council met to discuss the looming
 arrival of Daenerys’ men from across the Narrow Sea, as well as Jon Stark’s arrival from the
North. The crown had paid to secure enough ships to bring Daenerys’ Unsullied and Dothraki to
Westeros.

Daenerys offered her forces the option to remain behind with Daario and oversee rule in her stead
or to come to Westeros. Missandei was particularly keen to receive Daenerys’ commander, Grey
Worm.

Selwyn again made suggestions that made most everyone cringe and Arya giggle. Lastly, Ser
Barristan weighed in on the final decision to see the Queensguard married. He agreed with Brienne
that it was a sound idea and the knowledge thrilled Jaime.

He recommended that Ser Addam and Ser Endrew join the Queensguard. With the revision to law,
he imagined that more qualified, skilled, and loyal soldiers may enter the guard over time as
vacancies opened.

Of course, Selwyn scoffed at the idea. “First you steal Alice and now you take Ser Endrew. By the
Gods, do you two mean to destroy me?”

Brienne shrugged and recommended he file a complaint with his new liege lord. For some reason,
Jaime found it all rather amusing that they were taking the best of Tarth in every way. Their heir in
Brienne. Their cook in Alice. Their second best knight in Ser Endrew.

When eventually Brienne and Jaime readied to retire for the night, an eager looking Selwyn
followed them down the hallway towards their room. “I thought of it! I know what I want to do.”

Oh this will make for a lovely bedtime story. Mayhap he’ll tuck me in after.

As they stepped inside their room and moved to the balcony, Selwyn’s eyes landed on the broken
chair. With furrowed brows, the older lord questioned them. “Gods. What happened to your
chair?”

Brienne’s face flushed a deep shade of red and Jaime fought to suppress his laughter. “Um, I broke
it?”

Selwyn looked to Brienne and snorted. “You broke it? How?”

Brienne’s eyes darted to Jaime who looked to table and poured himself a cup of wine.

“By sitting on it.”

Her father let out a deep laugh and clutched his belly. “You sat on it and broke it?”

Jaime could see Brienne panic slightly; not wanting to give away the real reason. She stammered a
weak reply when Jaime offered no aid. “I.. I’m a whole lot of woman.”

Jaime chuckled into his cup and toasted her. “Her Grace, Ser Brienne Lannister of Tarth, first of
her name. Blood of the Dragon. Queen of the Andals and the First Men. Destroyer of Chairs. A
whole lot of woman.”

Chapter End Notes

Thank you Gwen for that lovely interview moment - "a whole lotta woman". The chair
destruction was happening regardless, but you supplied an excuse.
 To Being Reasonable
Chapter Summary

Tywin reflects on Selwyn's execution of Roose a fortnight prior.

Chapter Notes

Warning: This chapter contains graphic detail of torture. You won't miss anything by
skipping if it isn't your thing.

It had been a fortnight since the executions of the prisoners. Tyrion purposefully had the gold
cloaks most prone to idle gossip remove the heads of the prisoners. He knew they would talk and
he wanted them to tell tales of beheadings. Not torture. Varys kept his ear out for rumors in the
city, but it seemed King’s Landing was none the wiser to the true nature of the prisoners’ deaths.

The crown positioned the executions as private beheadings, so as not to bring attention to names
which should be forgotten. Tywin had been pleased with all chosen methods of execution, but
Selwyn’s approach amused him the most. He thought back on that night and chuckled inwardly.

Selwyn had come to his room with Jaime, and invited Tywin to join them for supper in the cells
with a friend. With a knowing smirk, Tywin hummed in acceptance and they made their way
down towards the cells. The cells were dimly lit and musty with a hint of death in the air.

As planned, only loyal and trusted guards were on duty that night. Given they had not yet been
appointed to the Queensguard, no one thought it odd that Ser Endrew and Ser Addam were on shift.
Passing Addam, the loyal knight chuckled and shook his head. “You lot are fucked up.”

Gods. Whatever does Selwyn and my son have planned for this evening?

At the very end of the hall, one of the larger cells had been setup with a table and four chairs. A jug
of wine had been set out in the middle which Selwyn promptly moved towards. Tywin took a seat
on one side of the table next to Jaime as Selwyn sat across from them; an empty seat to his left.

Moments later, Endrew walked in with Roose who was chained at the ankles and wrists. The Tarth
knight pushed the prisoner into the seat beside Selwyn and chain the lord’s legs to the chair. Then
Endrew took another set of chains and pulled it tight around Roose’s chest and the chair to keep
him upright and constrained.

Roose had been in the cells for over a week and smelled like an unwashed chamber pot. Flies
buzzed around his head and Tywin crinkled his nose in distaste.

With a bow, Endrew smiled warmly at them and moved from the room. “Have a wonderful dinner
my lords.”

Selwyn and Jaime smiled brightly at Endrew as he left the cell. Turning to Roose, Selwyn smiled
widely. “Lord Bolton! Delightful to see you this evening. I’m so glad you could make it. You
remember Lord Tywin and his son, Ser Jaime. My goodson.”

Roose looked wearily at Tywin and Jaime before looking back at Selwyn. His eyes narrowed
suspiciously. “What is the meaning of this?”

“Can a man not take supper with a fellow lord? Are you always this dreary? Must be a northern
thing.” Selwyn scoffed and looked to the cell doors, as two of Addam’s most trusted men brought
in their meals. Everyone except Roose was given a fork and knife; a decision that did not go
unnoticed by Roose.

“And how do you expect me to eat without cutlery?” The man’s voice betrayed his vexation.

Selwyn shrugged and responded nonchalantly. “How did you expect my goodson to eat a slab of
uncut meat with one hand after you man butchered him?”

A smile tugged at Tywin’s lips as he looked to Jaime. His son was watching Roose closely with
narrowed eyes. Suddenly, the screams of Littlefinger echoed off the walls in the cells around them.

Selwyn feigned distaste at the noise and looked to Roose. “Oh, how dreadful. Have you been
hearing this all day? Gods, talk about ruining one’s appetite. I do wish someone would gag the
man. Tell me Lord Bolton, did you hear what is happening with your allies today?”

Even in the dim lighting, Tywin could see Roose’s face pale slightly. “No.”

“Oh, a most horrible turn of events. They’re to be executed. Most barbaric really. The little wolf
girl was given… who was it son, help me out? I’m old and forget these things.” Selwyn waved his
hand dramatically as if trying to summon the answer from thin air.

Jaime piped up eagerly from Tywin’s side. “Walder Frey.”

“Ah yes! That’s the one. My daughter assigned each of you a personal executioner. She is very
caring like that.” Selwyn chuckled loudly and hit the table with his hand. “That little wolf is a most
vicious little thing. She plans to poison old Walder slowly and needle him with her sword which is
aptly named. Then before Walder succumbs to the poison and blood loss, she is going to slit his
throat.”

Tywin watched in delight as Roose swallowed thickly and his brows raised at the words. He had
never seen the Bolton lord so quiet. Selwyn crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair as though
lost in thought.

“Ah, then there is Lord Baelish. Yes, Lady Sansa and Tyrion will tend to him. A most ghastly
plan. They’re to be removing his ears, tongue, eyes, and cock. Then of course they’ll take his head
on the morrow.”

Roose stiffened in the chair and his breathing began to labor. Nodding slowly, Selwyn continued to
rattle off the noted punishments. “Oh, and Lord Tywin here met with his friend Qyburn earlier
today. I think you know the man! One of yours. I believe that Qyburn is now on a steady diet of
wildfire. Rumor has it that he so enjoys the substance. Personally, I would rather brandy, but to
each their own.”

Picking up his fork and knife, Selwyn began to cut his steak. Jaime and Tywin had been presented
precut steak to go with their vegetables; an offering that Tywin was most appreciative of as he
glanced to his friend with a smirk.
Selwyn looked happily between Tywin and Jaime before looking to Roose. He shoveled some
steak in his mouth and spoke as he chomped. “Well… aren’t you going to eat? Ha! Don’t worry.
Unlike people such as yourself, I don’t poison men under guest right. You are after all a guest in
this fine establishment.”

Roose looked afraid to breathe, move, or speak. The lord’s chained hands moved slowly from his
lap to the table. Using his left hand, he picked up a potato and put it in his mouth cautiously.

With an exaggerated effort, Selwyn groaned out loud. “Mmmmmm! That is delicious. We just
don’t get meat like this on Tarth. Mostly fish and boar. On occasion a sacrificial lamb or two. Ha!
How about you? I hear you had a lovely dinner with my goodson at Harrenhal once. What did you
serve him?”

Tywin looked between Jaime and Roose. Disdain was writ across Jaime’s face as he watched
Roose slowly chew a potato. Clearing his throat, Roose answered quietly. “Nothing so special, I’m
afraid.”

Selwyn huffed took another bite of his food. “You had the future Prince Consort in your company
and fed him an unworthy meal. How distasteful, man! Well, nothing can be changed of it now. Go
on then. Enjoy your steak. It’s just delicious.”

Roose hesitated as his hands rested on both sides of the plate. A slight sweat dotted his brow as he
eyed the meal uncertainly. Selwyn continued to chew a hunk of meat at Roose’s side and he leaned
over to appraise the plate.

“What’s wrong? Is it still mooing at you? I personally like it a bit undercooked. Your loss really.
And here I thought you would enjoy this. I went to a lot of trouble for this meal. My daughter says
that I need to play nicely, just as you did for her and Jaime.”

At Selwyn’s words, Roose froze. His breathing grew louder, and Tywin could see moisture
forming on the table under his palms.

“You’re a terrible dinner guest, Roose. I thought that between the lovely meal you shared with my
goodson and the wedding feast at the Twins, you would be a little livelier than this.” Selwyn
appraised Roose’s plate again; his brows raising to the ceiling. “Ah! How careless of me. Here…
use my fork.”

Abruptly, Selwyn shoved the fork hard into Roose’s right hand; effectively pinning the man’s hand
to the table. Roose screamed and stared at his hand. On instinct, he tried to jerk back, but his hand
was stuck firmly in place. The table shook slightly at his movement and it sloshed some of
Selwyn’s wine from the cup.

“Oh! By the Gods man! Get a hold of yourself. Spilling my wine!” Reaching to steady his cup,
Selwyn looked in irritation at Roose. “Honestly, Jaime has he always been this rude at supper?”

“I’m afraid so. He seemed content to do little more than watch me fail at dinner.” Jaime kept his
eyes locked on Roose as he spoke. There was a bite in his tone that made Tywin proud. A true lion.

Shaking his head, Selwyn reached for the jug of wine in the middle of the table. “Mayhap some
wine will improve your disposition, Lord Bolton.”

Jaime shrugged and sipped from his cup. “I recall that he doesn’t partake. I always thought that
rather suspicious.”

Roose continued to rock and whimper through clenched teeth. With a sigh, Selywn set the jug back
down and looked to Roose. “Now, help me understand. What is it with your House? Why do you
shits enjoy flaying men? On Tarth, we treat people with dignity… well, unless they deeply wrong
us. Then they’re fucked. Your man Locke took my goodson’s hand. Your bastard took my friend’s
hand. Are you listening to me Roose? You seem most distracted. It is very rude to not look at
someone when they’re speaking to you.”

“My…. Hand….” Roose barely got the words out as he continued staring at his bleeding hand.

“What’s that? Oh! Oh, my word, man! You have a fork in your hand! Here… let me help you out.”
Before Tywin had time to register what was happening, Selwyn reached down by his leg. In one
rapid, fluid motion, an axe came flying into view and down onto Roose’s wrist.

With a loud scream, Roose leaned back in his chair and clutched his right arm to his body. His
severed hand remained on the table with a fork firmly rooted in it. Selwyn nonchalantly placed the
axe back on the floor as Jaime continued eating his meal at Tywin’s side.

“Selwyn, can you pass the bread?” At Jaime’s words, Selwyn’s brows rose quickly. “Oh, yes! My
apologies. I was hogging it all.”

Selwyn moved the bread plate close to Jaime and smiled warmly before looking back to his own
plate. “Where the fuck did my fork go?”

As Roose writhed in pain beside Selwyn, the island of a man barked to someone in the hallway.
“Endrew! Gods damnit man, I’ve misplaced my fork. Would you mind fetching another.”

Tywin bit back a laugh at the scene playing out before him. Gods. Selwyn might be my favorite
Tarth and that is stiff competition.

Endrew soon returned with a new fork for Selwyn and looked around the table. “Does anyone else
need anything?”

Jaime and Tywin shook their heads as they enjoyed their meals, but Roose continued to pant for
breath as tears streamed down his face. Nudging his side, Selwyn questioned the tortured lord.

“Roose? Do you need anything?” With a sigh, Selwyn looked back to Endrew. “Apologies Ser
Endrew, Lord Bolton isn’t very talkative this evening. I do believe we’re all set. Thank you.”

The knight left the cell and Selwyn took a sip of his wine. “Such a good man that Endrew. Known
him since he was a pup. How about you Roose? Tell us of Ramsay. He must have been a delight
growing up. Running around, playing at knight, maiming people, forcing himself on women. Oh!
Did you hear!? Ser Jaime got to play with Ramsay in the yards! Son… tell Roose how well
Ramsay did out there!”

Jaime’s face brightened and he straightened. “Oh, it was truly to die for. I must say, he started to
pass out from exhaustion a bit sooner than I expected. Honestly, I didn’t expect he would be so
squeamish. I can’t recall if he started to fade after I took both his hands or after I shoved the dagger
into his cock, but he wasn’t as much fun as I thought he would be.”

Tywin chuckled lightly and patted his stump on Jaime’s back. A pleased smile spread across his
face as his eyes shown with pride. “In fairness to Ramsay, my son has always been extraordinary
with the sword. Even with his non-dominant hand, he is untouchable. I’m very proud.”

Roose began to sob louder as his head fell forward in a mix of pain, fear, and grief. Looking back
his own plate, Tywin took stabbed a piece of steak and enjoyed the well-cooked meal.
Alice has truly outdone herself tonight.

In the background, more screams from Baelish filled the space around them. Selwyn sighed and
shook his head. “I’m sorry, did you say something Roose? It is so difficult to hear with all that
screaming going on. I was hoping for a more tranquil atmosphere. Something to remind me of
Tarth. The beaches are delightful this time of year.”

Eating more of his steak, Selwyn again sat back and looked to Roose. As the man rocked in pain,
the flies that buzzed around him grew frenzied. “I must say Roose, you could use a bath. Those
flies are clinging to you as they would shit. Here... allow me see if I can kill them for you.”

Reaching to his side, Selwyn grabbed his trusty dagger and with a well-aimed stab, shoved it
straight through Roose’s ear. Roose froze at the impact before screaming. He began to gag on his
own bodily fluids as his body shook violently.

“Shit. I missed it. Hold on.” Selwyn pulled the dagger from Roose’s ear, and in an insincere effort
to track the fly took aim again. He slammed the dagger into Roose’s face. This time, the dagger
pushed through his cheek. “Gods. That bloody fly is fast! I missed again.”

Roose’s head dropped onto his plate as he cried out in pain. Looking to Roose in disgust, Selwyn
wrinkled his nose. “Well that’s unfortunate. I was going to ask if you planned on eating that. I quite
like these potatoes.”

Tywin hummed contentedly as he watched Roose writhe in pain. Looking to Roose, Selwyn’s face
darkened. “I received ransom for my daughter from Locke. My offer was rejected, and you offered
my precious girl to that shit as a reward. Do you know what he tried to do to her?”

Seemingly unable to speak or open his eyes, Roose cried into his food as his head remained face
down. Standing from his chair, Selwyn paced angrily behind the man.

“They meant to rape her, but not my girl. She’s a fighter. Perhaps you’ve heard. They threw her in
a bear pit with a wooden sword. Were it not for my goodson here, I would have lost her. You can’t
begin to fathom the things that I wanted to do to you today. My daughter is too pure. Too innocent
for this world. She asked that I keep the punishment reasonable. All she needs is your head. If that
is what my daughter wants, that is what I’ll give her.”

Moving to the back of the room, Tywin watched as Selwyn produced Oathkeeper. He had not
noticed it leaning against the wall upon entering the cell. Unsheathing the sword, Selwyn appraised
it; a wide smile on his face.

“Well, I’m afraid supper is over Roose.” With a massive swing, Selwyn severed Roose’s head.
Blood poured form the severed head and arteries in the neck. Roose’s head rolled off the table
while the body sagged forward and spluttered blood. On account of the chains, Roose’s body
remained upright in the chair. Taking Bolton’s tunic, Selwyn used it to remove the blood from
Oathkeeper before sheathing the sword.

The island of a man sat back down and picked up his win cup. With a smile, he looked between
Jaime and Tywin as he toasted. “To being reasonable.”
 Winter Is Coming
Chapter Summary

The North arrives in King's Landing and there is much to discuss.

Chapter Notes

The opening scene I got the inspiration from a deleted scene between Pycelle and
Tywin (where Tywin is fishing)

Genna walked down the steps towards the water’s edge. A smile pulled at her lips at the sight
before her. Her brother was sitting beside Tyrion on the rocks overlooking the water. His maimed
arm was slung carelessly over Tyrion’s shoulder as he chuckled over whatever they were
discussing.

Standing at the shoreline, Jaime was casting one of three lines back into the sea. Jaime was bare
chested as water dripped from his hair. His breeches were waterlogged and rolled to the knees as he
stood bootless in the water.

Jaime was the swimmer of the boys. Genna gathered he was likely going out for swims in between
resetting the lines. From the look of his slightly sunburned back, Genna gathered they had been at
it for some time. Chancing a look in the basket, she could see a dozen fish freshly caught.

Genna looked to Tyrion and smiled. As a boy, Tyrion would bring a book down to the beach at the
Rock while his big brother jumped the crashing waves. Tyrion was always a studious child, more
prone to reading than jumping off the cliffs as Jaime did.

Not much changes I suppose. Then again…

“Boys. Here you all are. Lazing about like fat housecats.” At her words, both Tywin and Tyrion
turned to face her; smirks on their faces. Chancing a glance back from his effort at the lines, Jaime
scoffed.

“They’re the lazy housecats. I’m doing all the work!” As he reset the bait, Jaime cast the line back
out into the sea. Without awaiting the retort from his brother and father, Jaime ran back out into the
water and dove under.

Tyrion called out after him as Jaime resurfaced. “We would have double the fish by now if you
would stop scaring them away!”

Jaime smiled widely and shook the water from his hair. “I’m chasing them to the lines.”

Turning back away from the group on the shore, Jaime swam out towards the rocks in the distance.
The day was hot and Genna mused that she wouldn’t mind a swim if she was appropriately dressed
to do so.
“The contingent from the North will be here soon. The scouts believe they’ll make it in time for
supper.” Tywin hummed as he watched Jaime swim out well past the Rocks. Following his
eyeline, Genna huffed a laugh.

I swear the boy was born with gills. How the hells did he get so far out already.

One of the lines began to move and the father-son duo moved quickly to reel in the catch. With
only one hand, Tywin could no longer fish alone. He and Tyrion worked together and pulled in the
line to retrieve the catch.

“What of Sansa, Tyrion? Does she plan to return north after her brother’s visit ends?” Tywin’s tone
was laced with dismay, but Genna was surprised that he even bothered to ask the question. The
Tywin she knew would have laughed at himself now; standing on the shore, fishing with his least
favorite child and asking what he wanted.

“It would seem my lady-wife is starting to find me tolerable enough. She has decided to stay.”
Tyrion’s smile could be heard in his words. At the response, Tywin righted himself with the fish in
hand. A wide smile spread across his face.

“Truly? Don’t toy with me, son. I’m too old; likely to die of a heart attack at such news.”

Genna felt a smile tugging at her lips as she watched her youngest nephew flush slightly. Gods. He
cares for the girl. He may even be starting to love her. He feigned indifference and pointed out at
his brother.

“Truly. Someone has to help me keep an eye on our Prince Consort after all.” At the mention of
Jaime, Tywin looked out over the water. Jaime’s head was a mere dot in the distance and Tywin
stiffened slightly.

Cupping his remaining hand to his mouth, Tywin screamed out to him. “Jaime! Not so far!” Genna
watched as her brother grumbled to himself. She moved to his side and squinted into the distance.

Ha! He’s but a dot out there.

At her approach, Tywin ranted at her. “The boy goes too damn far. He has one hand! What if he
grows tired?”

Placing a comforting hand on Tywin’s arm, Genna shook her head and huffed a laugh. “Your son
has been jumping off the cliffs at the Rock and swimming as far into the Sunset Sea as the horizon
allows since he was a boy. He is fine.”

Tywin looked aghast at the words. “Jumping from the cliffs!?”

“Oh Ty. Do you think being a knight is the only risk your son takes? He’s a thrill seeker. The other
week, the only one daring to swim further than him was his wife! Such an island girl. She needled
him the entire way.”

Genna took a seat on the rocks and watched as Tyrion reset the line before casting it back into the
sea. With a deep laugh, Tyrion looked out at Jaime before turning to her. “Remember when he
decided to swim away; his own aquatic version of running away? Said he was going to swim to the
Iron Islands and become a Greyjoy?”

Genna guffawed at the memory. “Gods, he was properly pissed! I remember that.”

“What’s this?” Tywin turned back to them in confusion. His brows knitted together as he looked
between the pair.

Wiping the tears of laughter from her eyes, Genna looked to her brother. “Jaime was being
dramatic and decided he had enough of being a Lannister.”

“He is always being dramatic. Such a baby.” Tyrion smiled as he moved to check one of the lines
which had begun to move, indicating a nibble from a prospective catch.

The Tys reeled in another fish and Genna looked out to see Jaime swimming back quickly. He
moved out from the water and ran over to Genna, pulling her into a soaking wet hug.

“Gods damnit Jaime! I hate when you do that! Insufferable brat!”

Jaime feigned insult and shook his head; spraying water everywhere. “Don’t hurt my feelings. I’ll
swim away to Tarth and become a Tarth.”

“Aren’t you already?” Tyrion rolled his eyes and chuckled with Tywin as they raised a knowing
brow at Jaime.

“We know how wears the breeches in your marriage.” Tywin teased at Tyrion’s side as he tossed
the latest catch into the basket.

Standing from her seat on the rocks, Genna stretched her back and appraised her boys. “Enough of
this shit. I’m too old to be sitting on rocks. I’m off to have my tea with Olenna.”

The boys snorted at the words. She was meant to be keeping an eye on the enemy. Instead she was
forming an unlikely friendship. Genna enjoyed her time with Olenna. They were likeminded and
loyal to family.

“I’ll walk with you. I have consortly things to do.” Jaime flashed a mischievous grin and put on his
boots. Flinging his tunic over his shoulder, he looked back to the other men and appraised their
catch.

Tywin patted Jaime’s shoulder and sighed. “She can only have one babe at a time, son, but I
applaud the enthusiasm.”

“I’ll have you know that my consortly duties involve more than bedding my queen.”

“Such as?” Tywin raised a challenging brow at his eldest son.

“Sparring and looking pretty. Fortunately, I’m a great multitasker.”

Tyrion guffawed. “You never lack confidence, brother. Say hello to the ladies for me.”

Of late, Sansa had taken to watching Brienne train Arya and Pod. This of course meant that Tyrion
was spending a lot of time in the yards as well.

Jaime chuckled and agreed to pass along Tyrion’s regards, but before he could leave, Tywin
grabbed Jaime’s arm. Genna watched curiously as a more serious exchange passed between her
brother and nephew. She couldn’t make out what was said, but Jaime was listening intently. Tywin
ruffled Jaime’s hair warmly as Jaime turned to meet Genna at the base of the stairs.

Jaime walked Genna to the terrace that Olenna and her had taken to holding their personal court on.
They enjoyed their tea in the garden and gossiping like old, bitter biddies as the young things of
court sauntered by, looking far too impressed with themselves.
At their approach, Olenna rolled her eyes. “Is this a brothel? By the Gods, boy. Put your tunic on.”

Jaime raised a challenging brow. “Makes it easier to do my duties for the realm if I’m already
halfway ready.”

Olenna scoffed and dismissed him with a wave. “You’re not half as charming as you think you are.
Now leave us. You’re blocking my view of the entertainment.”

Jaime feigned shock and clutched his chest. “Lady Olenna. You want me to leave so you can stare
at my ass!?”

“What!? I said no such thing! Out with you.”

“Oooohhh” Jaime’s eyes landed excitedly on the platter and he leaned forward to take some
cheese. “Thank you for offering, but where are the grapes?”

Olenna swatted at his hand and scoffed. “I offered nothing!” Looking to an attendant in the corner,
she barked at him. “You there! Take this one away. He’s ruining our teatime.”

Genna bit back a laugh upon seeing the young attendant pale slightly. “My… my lady. He’s the…
the king.”

Jaime’s eyes went wide with glee as he looked to Olenna.

“He is no king! He’s a consort. That’s the equivalent of calling a brothel whore the proprietor.
Remove him and bring us more cheese. This vulture took the best pieces.”

Jaime chuckled and looked to the attendant. “Ignore Lady Olenna. She’s senile. You’ve the right of
it. I’m quite important. Don’t worry though, I was just moving along. I only needed to ensure my
aunt arrived safely and that Lady Olenna got the view of my ass that she requested.” With a kiss to
Genna’s head, Jaime walked off while taking pause to shake his ass for Olenna.

“Ugh! How distasteful. Truly, Genna. There is something wrong with your nephew.”

After taking her tea with Olenna, Genna wandered inside to track down Brienne. She had told her
goodniece that they would meet in the afternoon with the castle seamstress. Brienne’s swelling
belly was still small, but becoming more noticeable as she neared four moons.

Of course, Brienne wanted nothing to do with dresses. Genna had brought in a seamstress who
specialized in more southern styles like those in Dorne. With warmer weather approaching, Genna
worried that Brienne would become miserable quickly.

Daenerys offered to join and offer suggestions. In Essos, Daenerys grew accustomed to warmer
weather and had also experienced a pregnancy while contending with the heat of the Dothraki Sea.
It was a sad tale indeed, but Genna doubted the supposed curse on the young Targaryen’s womb.

Approaching the door with Daenerys, Genna grabbed the young woman's arm; bringing them to a
halt. She muttered to herself and threw back her head in exasperation.

“What’s the matter?” Before Genna could answer Daenerys’ questions, the sounds started up
again.

Consortly things indeed.

Daenerys brought a hand to her mouth as a small laugh pushed past her lips. “It’s the middle of the
day!”

“Trust me, that has never stopped them. They’re like rabbits.” Shaking her head, Genna patted
Daenerys’ arm. “One moment, dear. I’ll break this up. They could be at it for quite a while.”

Marching down the hallway, Genna shook her head.

Unbelievable these two. This boy needs a new hobby.

Genna banged on the door and spoke commandingly. “Jaime Lannister! You get off the queen
immediately! We have things to do and we don’t have time for all this! The North arrives soon!”

From inside the room, she could hear Jaime chuckling breathlessly as Brienne seemed to be
muffling her moans. “Ah yes, winter is coming… among other things.”

Ah! Disgusting! This child, by the Gods!

Looking back down the hallway to Daenerys, Genna offered an apologetic glance. When she only
heard more laughter coming from inside, she banged on the door again. “Jaime! Enough, now!”

The door soon swung open to reveal a sated Jaime. It appeared he had bathed before his other
activities with Brienne. He was dressed adequately for the North’s arrival in black breeches, a
crimson tunic, and a long, black, leather jerkin. Widow’s Wail was strapped to his hip and he
smirked at Genna; patting her arm as he passed.

“The queen awaits, Aunt Genna. I think you'll find she is most agreeable now.”

Genna glared as he retreated down the hallway and Daenerys muffled another laugh as he walked
by smugly. As Jaime made his way around the corner, Daenerys joined Genna and moved into the
room.

The room looked like a storm hit and Brienne had the good graces to look mortified. Like Jaime,
her hair was wet from a bath, but she wore only breeches and a fitted tunic. The slight swell of
Brienne’s belly calmed Genna’s frustration. A new cub for their pride. With a knowing smile,
Genna looked to Brienne.

“Your Grace. Sorry to disturb you afternoon sparring, but you may recall that the seamstress is on
the way up to fit you for more comfortable clothing for the moons to come.”

Brienne smiled sheepishly at Genna and Daenerys. The seamstress soon entered the room and they
set to work. Daenerys had some great ideas and offered suggestions for styles she had once worn
that toed the line between garments for battle and leisure. By the end, the seamstress had outlined
down several designs that Genna and Daenerys happily approved despite Brienne’s uncertainty.
The styles were commanding yet feminine with no dresses of course. Daenerys and Genna mused
that they would suit Brienne's personality perfectly.

Jaime, you can thank me later child. The rest of the castle certainly will not when they can’t find
sleep.

Soon they made their way to the hall to welcome the contingent from the North. Sansa and Arya
had already greeted their brother outside. There had been a rush of emotions as a most unexpected
guest joined Jon. Rickon Stark.

The young boy had been secretly protected in one of the North’s vassal houses. Bran had gone
north of the wall with Lord Reed’s children, but unfortunately had not been seen or heard from
since. Jon visited Lord Reed on the way through to share Rickon's information and was most
surprised to learn of things that he intended to discuss with the queen during his stay.

Genna stood in the throne room as everyone awaited Brienne, Jaime, Ser Barristan, and Oberyn.
They were tending to a last-minute matter concerning a member of the gold cloaks and had been
detoured on the way to the throne room.

Appraising the group before them, Genna’s eyes landed on a most peculiar looking man who
accompanied Jon from the North. His name was Tormund Giantsbane and he brought information
of the threat to the north which Jon’s letters had spoken endlessly of.

Jon was desperately trying to explain to Tormund the expectations when meeting a sovereign.
Genna couldn’t help but laugh as she stood next to Tywin and Olenna.

“I don’t kneel like you fancy southerners. I’m of the free folk. We bend to no king!”

“Good, because today you will bend the knee to a queen.” Tywin’s voice was clipped and brokered
no argument. Before the redheaded man could reply, Sansa spoke at Jon’s side.

“She is a good queen, Lord… Tormund.”

The redheaded man scoffed and shook his head. “I’m not here to bend. I am representing my
people north of the wall. Just bring in this fancy queen of yours and I’ll tell her what’s going on.”

Jon sighed and shrugged apologetically to the small council. As the doors opened and Brienne
walked in, Genna turned back to see the contingent from the north stand at attention and bow. The
redheaded man’s mouth dropped as his eyes landed on Brienne.

Brienne moved to stand at the base of the stairs, she smiled warmly at Jon and shook his hand.
“Lord Stark. Good to see you.”

With a wide smile, Jon bowed before her after shaking her hand. “The North has come to swear
loyalty to the crown and offer word from north of the wall, your Grace.” At that, Jon and his group
bent the knee to their queen. A most pleased expression flitted across Tywin’s face as Genna
glanced to him.

Looking back at the group, Genna observed the redhead continue to gawk at Brienne. “You’re the
queen?”

Jaime’s brows furrowed at Brienne’s side and Genna could see the flash of protectiveness and
jealousy in his eyes.

Some habits die harder than others I see. Gods, As though Brienne would ever look twice at
another man. She couldn’t be more taken with Jaime.

Tormund’s eyes dropped to the sword at Brienne’s hip in awe. “You’re a fighter too!? A fighter
and a queen?”

“A knight and a queen.” Jaime’s tone was curt as he glared at the wildling. Tyrion smirked and
announced the man to his siblings.

“Your Grace, this is Tormund Giantsbane. He is the leader of the Wildlings and has come to offer
word of this threat that Lord Stark has been telling us of. They are a free people and do not bend to
any man… or woman, it would seem.”
Brienne forced a smile but looked disturbed by the man. She reached out her hand just as she had
taken Jon’s moments before. “Hello. A pleasure to meet you Tormund.”

Tormund continued to look at Brienne in awe as he took her accepted hand. “Aye, I’ll bend to no
man. A warrior queen such as you though…” With dramatic flair, the wildling dropped to a knee
beside Jon and smiled up at Brienne in wonder.

Glancing at her brother, Genna smirked as she noticed Tywin made the same observation she had.
“Gods. This will be an interesting visit.”
 A Wild Dinner
Chapter Summary

Brienne takes supper with the new arrivals. Jaime is less than thrilled with Tormund.

“So we have another Targaryen. How novel.” Olenna spoke sarcastically from down the table; a
most unimpressed look on her face.

Jon shrugged at the words huffed a laugh. “Aye. I’m just pleased my line has no claim. I don’t
have the desire nor the mind to lead the kingdoms.”

Brienne groaned inwardly at the words. As if I do. Tyrion is doing all the work. Mayhap we should
just give him the crown.

Looking back up from his meal, Jon glanced between Brienne and Daenerys. “Either way, it’s only
important if it helps. Before Lord Reed’s son left to find my brother, he kept repeating ‘The dragon
must have three heads.’. He said it was important not just to take and hold the throne, but in the
war to come. I wouldn’t have believed it had I not already seen the dead. If there is truth in this
prophecy, well… here we are.”

Brienne’s eyes flitted to Daenerys who looked as weary as she felt. Jaime’s flesh hand tightened
protectively on Brienne’s leg. He had not handled Jon’s supposed prophecy well. After the
meeting with the small council, Jaime pulled her aside and implored her not to enter the next war.

Brienne had refused to make promises. She was not one to back down from a fight and if what Jon
and Tormund said was true, this would be a fight that no one could escape. Humanity would need
to band together to beat back death.

The attendants walked around the rectangular table, refilling everyone’s wine cups. Brienne was at
the head of the table with Jaime,Tywin, Daenerys, Jon, Arya, Rickson, and Varys to her right. To
her left was Tyrion, Sansa, Genna, Olenna, Tormund, Oberyn, and Ser Barristan.

Looking down the table, Brienne grimaced as Tormund stared at her, licking and biting the chicken
leg in his hand in a most savage manner. The look in his eyes was unnerving. He was a strange
man but spoke competently in matters of war. Jon and Tormund vividly described what they
observed of the threat north of the wall and it was chilling.

None of it made sense to Brienne and she struggled to believe it, but she was willing to give Jon
the benefit of the doubt. They agreed to write the Citadel seeking information on the Long Night,
although Tyrion questioned the truth its occurrence. Of everyone, Tyrion seemed the most
skeptical which made Jon’s tale even more difficult for Brienne to believe.

Brienne wished her father was in the capital to approach on the matter. He had left after the
execution of Lord Bolton to sail to Tarth before moving on to Strom’s End. By now, he was likely
with Tommen, helping amass the vassals of the Storm Land’s to meet with their new liege lord.

From across the table, Genna snorted and reached for her wine. “I told such stories to Jaime and
Tyrion when they were babes to get them to stay put in their beds at night. They’re tales to keep
young children in line and nothing more.”

Neither Genna nor Olenna seemed impressed with Jon’s claim regarding the dead. They seemed
more concerned with the vintage of wine being served with dinner. For his part, Oberyn was
inquisitive and peppered the new arrivals with questions of the battle.

Tywin sat beside Jaime and leaned into his ear. While he was attempting to speak for Jaime’s ears
only, Brienne could just make out the words. “I will not see Brienne nor my grandbabe put in
danger for this boy’s bedtime stories.”

“Yes, well you try to tell her what to do. Let me know how that works out for you.” Jaime’s tone
betrayed his aggravation at Brienne’s earlier declared commitment to send aid and confirm this
army of death herself.

Daenerys and Brienne had agreed to fly over the wall on the backs of their dragons to investigate
the matter. Brienne felt there was little chance of finding anything, but she was willing to try. She
didn’t want to be a sovereign withholding aid or ignoring the pleas of her people.

If nothing else came from the visit, Brienne was simply content to see the Stark family reuniting.
Arya and Sansa were overjoyed to reunited with Rickon and Jon. It brought a smile to Brienne’s
face to see them all together.

Lady Catelyn would be pleased. I do hope we can find Bran.

Cutting through multiple smaller conversations around the table, Tormund’s booming voice carried
to the rafters and back again. “So, your… grace…” The man’s eyes flitted to Jon for confirmation
that his words were correct. When Jon huffed a laugh and nodded, Tormund continued. “Where did
you learn to fight?”

Those gathered around the table looked to Brienne for reply, but Jaime’s eyes remained fixed on
the wildling. Underneath the table, his hand again tightened around her thigh.

“My father and our master-at-arms on Tarth.” Brienne smiled shyly and looked back to her plate,
expecting that to be the end of the conversation.

“Are you as impressive with the sword as you are beautiful?”

Brienne felt her face flush in embarrassment, and she refused to look up from her meal. She hated
the word. Since taking the throne, her heart thrummed with anxiety every time she entered court.
She braced herself for the whispers and japes at her expense. It was yet another reason she
despised being queen. A never-ending sea of eyes were always fixed on her.

‘Beautiful’. Brienne the Beauty. A great jape. Clearly, he mocks me.

She could hear Arya snickering from down the table. Old wounds long scabbed over bled anew.
All Brienne could think of were the boys on Tarth laughing at her. Jaime’s hand sought hers under
the table, but she pulled back.

“I’m not…”

“My daughter is the best fighter I’ve ever seen. You would do well to keep that in that in mind, if
you cross her.” Tywin spoke through gritted teeth as his eyes remained locked on Tormund.

A momentary silence settled over the hall before Sansa spoke. The young woman’s eyes sought
Brienne’s as she spoke. “My goodsister killed the second largest man I’ve ever seen in a fight to
the death.”

“And the largest man I’ve ever seen is her father, who she thrashed about the training yards.”
Tyrion added to Sansa’s comment; a mischievous grin on his face.

“She slew a self-proclaimed king after felling his guards in the open field of battle. I think she
could guard me better than I can guard her.” Ser Barristan smiled at Brienne and bowed his head
from his seat. Brienne smiled warmly at the man.

It was one change that Brienne insisted on. The Lord Commander was as much a part of her family
as the rest of the small council. She saw to it that Ser Barristan was off duty and present for all
meals with the group. She also wanted nothing to do with him being on night shifts.

“Well I saw her fight a bear with a wooden sword before we were MARRIED.” At Jaime’s
emphasis on the word ‘married’, the table dissolved into barely concealed laughter. “I would say,
yes, she is as skilled as she is beautiful.”

Had anyone else spoken the words, Brienne would have been insulted that her skill with a sword
was thought so little of. Since it was Jaime who spoke the words, Brienne knew that he intended it
to be a compliment.

Only Jaime could consider me beautiful and that is after learning to look past my appearance.

Jaime viewed Brienne as beautiful despite her appearance. No matter how good she was with a
sword or what her titles were, Brienne was not a beautiful woman by Westeros’s standards. She
understood that and came to accept it long ago.

At Jaime’s remark, the laughter stopped, and everyone seated around the table looked to Brienne
with pride. She was still not accustomed to feeling loved and supported by so many. It was a
strange feeling, but it warmed her heart despite the obvious exaggeration of their words.

A wide smile spread across Tormund’s face. “I would love to spar you while I’m here.”

Again, everyone’s eyes shifted to Brienne. This time, Jaime was looking at her too. His eyes
silently implored her to turn the man down.

What harm can come from a spar? It would be rude to not oblige, wouldn’t it?

“Very well. Ser Jaime and I train in the mornings. You’re welcome to join us.” At her words,
Jaime’s hand withdrew from her leg and he sat back in his chair. It felt as though the air left her
lungs at the look on his face.

He’s angry at me. All I did was agree to spar a visitor to the castle.

Tormund’s eager voice filled the halls as Brienne continued to look at Jaime. “I look forward to it
then!”

The room seemed to fade away as Brienne could focus on nothing but Jaime. Reaching for his
hand or leg under the table, Brienne felt him shift away. It was like a punch to the gut and Brienne
quickly retracted her hand. Glancing to Tywin or Genna, she could see the tension on their faces.

Leaning in slightly as everyone renewed their conversations, Brienne spoke in hushed tones.
“Jaime? It’s just a spar.”

Jaime looked to her and it felt as though they were back in the Riverlands after Lady Catelyn set
them off. “You can do as you like. You’re the queen.” The curl of his lips brought back memories
of old insults. ‘Uglier in the daylight.’ ‘Beast of a woman.’

“Jaime.” Tywin’s voice was warning. The older Lannister’s eyes glanced to his son without turning
his head to face him. “Do not say anything you will later regret.”

“I’m just having a chat with my wife. I hope she recalls she’s my wife. I can hardly tell.” Jaime
kept his eyes on Brienne as he spoke.

Brienne felt walls erecting around her heart. Walls she used to live behind, but Jaime tore down.
Now it was Jaime raising them. Her mood soured and she looked to Jaime as she had many moons
ago. The Kingslayer and Brienne the Beauty.

“What’s wrong? Afraid you’re not strong enough?”

Something flashed in Jaime’s eyes that made Brienne regret her comment. A smile flickered across
his face that she had not seen since their battle on the bridge. Vicious and cruel. He kept his eyes
on her as he called out. “Giantsbane.”

The room again silenced, and Jaime turned to face the wildling. Forks hovered in midair awaiting
Jaime’s next words to the unkempt man at the far end of the table. “How about a spar now?”

Twin groans escaped Genna and Tywin. A pregnant silence fell over the table as the wildling
raised a brow and smirked at Jaime.

Brienne spoke through gritted teeth as Jaime’s eyes remained locked on the wildling. “Jaime, we’re
eating dinner.”

“Aye. Sounds like fun.”

Both men stood from their seats and eyed one another. The tension in the room was palpable until
Olenna picked up her wine cup and cackled. “Marvelous. And here I thought this dinner would be
a tedious affair.”

Jaime moved quickly from the hall and towards the side exit to the yards. As he walked, Tormund
trailed after him like a hound catching scent of his target. Brienne glanced to Tywin and saw the
frustration in his eyes.

The rest of the table looked to Brienne expectantly as though she were a septa dismissing them all
from lessons. Standing from her chair, Brienne sighed and nodded. “Alright then. Time for a spar.”

Their dinner party moved quickly to the yards. From her back, Brienne could hear Olenna
chuckling and yelling at the attendants to bring them more wine for the ‘show’.

Of course. Jaime needs to be juvenile about all this. All because I accommodated a guest’s request
for a spar.

In the yards, Brienne could see the men removing their outermost layers. Tormund wore large furs
which Brienne thought an odd choice given the climate of King’s Landing. Jaime shrugged off his
black leather jerkin and threw it on the rock wall.

At her side, Ser Barristan muttered to her. “I’ve not seen a wildling fight before, but I’ve heard
tales. They’re gritty, strong, and vicious. Give the word and I’ll rescue the prince consort before he
makes a complete ass of himself.”
Brienne sighed and smiled at Ser Barristan. “If your or I jump to aid him, he may have a complete
fit like a young tot.”

“Is he not already doing that?” Barristan’s brow rose challengingly, and Brienne could hardly help
the light chuckle that pushed past her lips.

Moving by her quickly, Jon made his way to Tormund’s side. She could hear him imploring the
wildling to fight properly and not pummel the prince consort. “It’s the next worst thing to striking
the queen herself. Please Tormund, just control yourself.”

“Relax little crow. It’s just a friendly spar. He has one hand. It’s hardly going to be a fight at all.”
The words were loud enough for Jaime to overhear and Brienne saw his body tense. As she opened
her mouth to defend Jaime, Tywin’s voice filled the yards.

“Consider yourself lucky my son lost a hand fighting for his wife. He’ll only embarrass you half as
much as he ordinarily would.” Tywin’s words were devoid of friendly jest and Genna was quick to
hush him. They squabbled at one another’s side as Brienne moved towards Jaime.

“Stop being an idiot. You’ve got the whole of the castle here watching you act like a giant child.”
Their eyes locked as Jaime faced her fully. Neither was willing to back down and he used his
maimed arm to urge her out of the way.

“Step aside, your Grace. I know how eager you are to spar with your new friend, but that will need
to wait.”

Brienne felt rage pool in her gut at Jaime’s insinuation. Before she could respond, Genna’s fingers
were wrapped firmly around Brienne’s elbow and urging her backwards. “It’s no use now. When
he gets jealous, the best thing to do is ignore it.”

Jealous? Of Tormund? This must be a jape.

Brienne’s thoughts played out plainly on her face and Genna could do little more than sigh. “Truly
your self-esteem needs work. That wildling has been looking at you all evening as though he might
steal off with you. Then you agreed to spar him.”

“I was being courteous. He asked for a spar; not my hand. What was I to say?”

Before Genna could respond, the sound of clashing steel caught Brienne’s attention. Olenna
chuckled giddily nearby and sipped her wine. Pushing to the front of their small group, Arya
looked on in awe. She spoke in excited whispers back to Sansa like a child watching her first
melee. “Are you seeing this!?”

Behind their backs, Brienne could hear Sansa’s vexed reply. “I just want to finish my supper. This
is stupid.”

Watching the fight before her, Brienne was captivated by how well the wildling moved. For a large
man, he was surprisingly nimble yet equally forceful.

His blows came down hard at Jaime, but Brienne could see that Jaime did not struggle to block
them. When Jaime’s temper flared, Selwyn himself could swing at Jaime and her husband would
barely flinch.

The fight dragged on interminably with both men equally matched. As the circled one another and
traded blow for blow with their weapons, Brienne could see the anger writ across Jaime’s face.
Gods. He means to kill this man.

As if sensing her gaze, Jaime’s eyes briefly flicked to Brienne. It was a spark she had seen so many
times before. Even at opposites ends of a crowded room, they found one another. When their eyes
met, it was as though there was no distance between them at all.

The flash in Jaime’s eyes erupted into a torrent of blows that had Tormund back on his heels. The
wildling’s eyes went wide in shock as Jaime beat him back with one hand, spinning left and right
before knocking the man’s blade from his burly hands. Bringing his sword to Tormund’s throat,
Jaime barked at him. “Yield!?”

A flash of excitement took hold in the wildlings features as he began to laugh. “Oh, you’re good!
Didn’t expect that from a fancy boy like you.” Jaime lowered Widow’s Wail to his side and righted
himself. As Arya clapped excitedly and looked back at the group in amazement, Olenna grunted in
displeasure.

To her right, Brienne could see Tywin’s chest swell with pride and even Ser Barristan looked
impressed at the showing. Before Jaime could sheathe his sword, Tormund tackled him to the
ground. Brienne could see the wind leave Jaime’s lungs.

“Ha! Got ya!” Tormund looked to Jon excitedly, but seemed shocked at the lack of applause from
his friend. Jon rubbed his forehead and cringed. “Tormund. That’s not how it works in…”

Before Jon finished, Jaime’s left fist connected with Tormund’s jaw. The spar dissolved into a
brawl with fists flying. Ser Barristan called for the Queensguard before surging forward with Jon,
Tywin, Oberyn, and Brienne at his heels.

Both men were punching each other with everything they had. Jon, Oberyn, and a Queensguard
held back Tormund as Barristan, Tywin, Brienne, and a Queensguard moved Jaime away. Blood
was pouring from Jaime’s nose and lip as he glared at the wildling. “What the fuck was that!?”

Tormund scoffed and screamed back. “Me!? You hit me first! I thought we was sparring!”

It took several minutes of pushing and pleading, but they eventually got Jaime inside. He stomped
through the hallway of the keep and yelled obscenities over his back towards Brienne, the council,
and the Queensguard urging him towards his room.

Once they arrived, Jaime marched inside and continued cursing, but only Brienne moved inside
with him. No one else had the desire nor strength to continue dealing with him.

“Are you satisfied now!?” Brienne yelled at Jaime before grabbing a cloth and moving to the water
basin. With the wet rag, she moved back to dab at his face, but he batted her hand away.

“I can do it myself! I’m more than strong enough.” Their noses brushed as they stood toe to toe
seething. There was a charge in the room as their breath mingled.

“You are being a complete ass tonight!”

“Me!? You’re practically throwing yourself at that savage? Is that what you want? Is he more to
your liking!?” Jaime moved impossibly closer. His chest pressed firm against her.

“You sound quite jealous!”

“Maybe I am!”
Brienne’s eyes went wide at his admission. She thought Genna’s words earlier an inaccurate
assessment. Before she could respond, Jaime surged at her aggressively. His lips smashed into hers
and he moved her backwards against the door.

His hands reached for her in an overwhelming mixture of desperation and possessiveness.
Grabbing his face in her hands, Brienne pushed back just as hard, but Jaime kept her rooted in
place. They tore at one another’s clothing; laces snapped, fabric tore, and clasps broke.

Brienne’s elbows smashed into the door behind her. With every swipe to her clothing, Jaime’s
knuckles scraped hard against the wooden door at her back. In seemingly no time they were naked.
Jaime pressed hard against her body, pushing Brienne’s back flat against the door.

It was a mix of passion and anger. Both clawing for dominance as Jaime tried to pin back her hands
with his one. Using his maimed her, Jaime lifted Brienne’s leg over his hip and pushed into her. He
began thrusting in and out at a punishing pace; a reckless abandon and disregard for anything save
her.

Their lips desperately sought out any skin on the other’s body as their hands fought for dominance.
Brienne felt her pleasure building as Jaime pawed at her chest with his flesh hand. He pinched and
tugged at her nipple as Brienne’s nails scraped down his back.

With each thrust, it felt as though they might break through the wooden door and into the hallway.
Their grunts grew louder as they both felt their climax building. Abruptly, Jaime lifted her other
leg and lowered her to the ground.

The stone floor was cool beneath her back. Laying on her back near the door, Brienne reached for
Jaime’s shoulders to anchor herself as he drove deeper into her. Bringing her legs firmly around his
lower back, they both screamed in ecstasy as Jaime pounded into her.

With their panting growing louder, Jaime leaned on his left arm and angled slightly, hitting that
spot. Their frantic puffs of breath collided against each other’s face and neck. Like a wave crashing
to shore, they came together violently. Jaime spilled deep inside Brienne as he cried out his release
and squeezed his eyes shut.

They both stilled in equal parts physical and emotional exhaustion. When Jaime’s eyes met hers,
the shadow that settled over his face earlier lifted. His eyes softened as he looked down at her.
Fresh blood dripped from his nose to Brienne’s cheek. Taking appraisal of her chest and Jaime’s,
Brienne realized that it was far from the first drop.

Jaime’s eyes remained locked on hers as their breathing slowed. He placed a tender kiss to her lips
as he whispered into her mouth. “I love you. I’m sorry.”

Brienne ran her hands through his hair and pulled back his face. She searched his eyes for
understanding. “Were you truly jealous?”

Hanging his head in shame, Jaime nodded. “Yes.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean… I didn’t think there was anything to be jealous of. I love you and no
other.” As his eyes snapped up to meet hers, Brienne saw a sea of emotions writ across his face.
Like a storm moving out, everything settled around them as they found their way back to each
other.

Reaching up to wipe the blood from his nose, Brienne ran her thumb across his face. Jaime leaned
down and placed a passionate kiss to her lips. They laid on the floor kissing and whispering their
love to one another for some time. It wasn’t until Brienne felt herself being carried to bed that she
realized they had fallen asleep like that.

The next day, Brienne awoke in Jaime’s arms. Dried blood was caked on them and the sheets. With
a sigh, Brienne ran a hand through Jaime’s hair before slipping out of bed. She washed up quickly
and brought a clean cloth to wash his face.

Jaime stirred at the sensation of the wet cloth moving across his nose, mouth, and jaw, but he
forced his eyes to remain shut. “Come back to bed. It’s too early.”

Brienne kissed his cheek and sighed. “I promised your aunt during the fittings yesterday that I
would break my fast with her.” One of Jaime’s eyes fluttered open before he turned to look out
towards the balcony. The sun was just starting to break across the eastern horizon and he groaned.

“I suppose you’re already late then.” Genna was an early riser and they smiled at the shared
knowledge. Jaime reached up to pull Brienne in for a kiss goodbye. “I’ll see you in the yards?”

“I’ll meet you here and we can walk down together. I don’t think your aunt will appreciate if I
show up wearing a sword at my hip.” Jaime hummed in agreement and absently ran his hand
through her hair. Brienne stood up to finish dressing while Jaime found sleep again.

Making her way into the hall, Brienne was not surprised to find Genna already enjoying tea. When
her eyes rose to greet Brienne, Genna hummed in surprise. “Ah, your Grace. I had not expected
you would make it after last night’s events.”

The hall was dimly lit on account of the hour. Few attendants bustled around the room quietly as
Brienne moved to sit across from her goodaunt. “It wasn’t me who got hit in the face. I hardly had
any recovering to do.”

Genna chuckled and raised a knowing brow. “I was talking about the reconciliation fucking you
two did against the door. I think they heard you at the Wall.”

Seven take me now.

Brienne felt her face flush a deep shade of crimson. She stammered slightly, trying to find the
words to apologize for the noise. They had been so wrapped up in the moment that Brienne hardly
considered the volume of their coupling.

Genna shook her head and patted Brienne’s arm. “Don’t worry. I think we’re used to it by now.
Well… the two Queensguard on duty ended up moving to the opposite wall.”

The older woman hesitated and considered her next question. “Is everything alright then?”

Nodding in affirmation, Brienne looked down at her hands in her lap. “I didn’t realize that I was
making him jealous. I’ve never had a man show interest in me before. Even Jaime had little desire
for me for quite some time. I’m not… well, you know.”

“Know what child?” Genna’s brows knitted in confusion.

Struggling to find the words, Brienne’s eyes darted around. She gestured weakly at her face before
glancing at Genna. “You see what I look like. There is no hiding this; particularly given my size.
I’m not pleasant to look upon like other women. Women like Daenerys or Sansa.”

Genna scoffed and drank her tea. “You know the funny thing about beauty? It’s subjective. The
entirety of Westeros could look upon you and see little to desire, but there is a man in this Keep
who wouldn’t trade you for all the gold at the Rock. Well… I suppose now there are two men in
this Keep who quite desire you as you are.”

The comment startled Brienne. She had never thought of beauty on such terms. It seemed as
predefined as the color of the sky or grass.

Genna sighed and again reached for Brienne’s arm. “You did no wrong. Last night you accepted a
request for a spar, not a fuck. This is just how Jaime is. Please, just… go easy on him. He could
never claim his other interest and he was forced to stand and watch as men courted her. I can say
that what he feels for you is unparalleled, but old wounds run deep.”

It had never occurred to Brienne that Jaime’s reaction could have been fueled by past hurt at the
hands of Cersei. She felt foolish for not having realized it before.

No one has ever claimed him openly before.

Brienne had felt old wounds bubble to the surface at Tormund’s use of the word ‘beautiful’.
Despite Jaime making her feel beautiful in his eyes, she still struggled to think that anyone else
could find her desirable; particularly not on looks alone.

With a nod of understanding, Brienne smiled shyly at Genna. They broke their fast and spoke of
trivial matters, but Brienne’s thoughts were entirely with Jaime.

When she later went back to her room, Jaime was dressed and ready to go. They moved into the
yards together and it wasn’t long before Tormund approached.

“Your Grace. Good morning.” Tormund’s eyes flitted to Jaime and he shrugged. “I am sorry about
last night. The little crow tells me that I didn’t spar correctly. I didn’t understand how you southern
folk fight. We don’t have this ‘yield’ thing. If a weapon is dropped, we just use our hands.”

Jaime’s jaw clenched in irritation, but he forced a smile. “Sorry for punching you.”

A wide smile spread across Tormund’s face and he playfully punched Jaime’s shoulder. “Good!
You fight well. I would like to do that again some time.” Looking back to Brienne, Tormund raised
a brow. “Can we spar now?”

Brienne looked at Jaime and saw his face fall slightly, but he kept his smile in place. Grabbing
Jaime’s hand in hers, Brienne looked to Tormund with a warm smile. “I’m sorry Tormund, but
perhaps another morning. I wish to spar with just my husband today. We enjoy a good fight. Gets
our juices flowing.”
 The Third Head
Chapter Summary

Jaime talks to Brienne about her plans. Jon meets the dragons.

As Jaime finished getting dressed for the day, a knock came at the door. It was still early, and
Brienne was likely breaking her fast with Genna. Jaime moved to the door and was surprised to
find Tywin on the other side.

Without an invitation, Tywin moved into the room. “I passed your wife breaking her fast with
Genna. I imagined you might be awake.” Tywin’s voice was monotone as ever. He appraised the
room as he moved towards the center. The bloody rag that Brienne used to clean Jaime’s face lay
near the water basin on a side table. As Tywin caught sight of it, he turned to Jaime.

A stern look adorned his father’s face. “You fought well last night.”

Jaime could hardly help the smug smile that tugged at his lips. Before he could reply, Tywin spoke
again. “Do you know what the problem with the fight was?”

Surprise flitted across Jaime’s features as he met Tywin’s reprimanding eyes. With a slight shrug,
he replied offhandedly. “No, but I imagine you’re going to tell me.”

“That you fought. You are the Prince Consort and you treated this castle like a tavern. Two fools
getting into a fist fight for all to see.”

Jaime’s face fell at the condemning remarks and the angry set in his father’s features. Any
satisfaction Jaime took from his victory quickly left his body. Tywin’s eyes pierced Jaime’s.

“You are a Lannister and you will conduct yourself as such. What are you fighting with that
wildling for? Because he dared to look at your wife? Because he asked her for a spar? Aerys used
to look at your mother like that. He used to make inappropriate remarks. He even dared to do so on
the day of my wedding! Do you think that I challenged him to a spar over it?”

Frustration built deep within Jaime’s gut. Of course, he couldn’t tell his father the origin of his
insecurities. They had little to do with Brienne and that wildling. Much to do with Cersei and her
fornications.

“No. I do not imagine you did.” Jaime answered through clenched teeth and looked everywhere but
at his father. What came next caught Jaime by surprise. Tywin grabbed Jaime’s chin and forced
their eyes to meet. With a more sympathetic look in his eyes, Tywin spoke again.

“The look in your eyes that I observed yesterday, was one that I saw many times prior, but did not
understand. I do not wish to think on why you had that look on your face in years past, but I now
know what it means. Brienne is not her. Your wife does not strike me as the type to stray from her
marriage bed.”

With a heavy sigh, Jaime felt his shoulders sag. “She is not the type.”

“Good. You would do well to keep that in mind and conduct yourself properly. You made a fool of
yourself last night. It will not happen again.” Tywin’s tone brokered not argument. It did little use
to challenge the man when his mood was so sour.

With a firm nod of understanding, Jaime felt Tywin’s hand leave his jaw. The older lord moved
towards the door to take leave, but he took pause and called back to Jaime. “I’m breaking my fast
with Tyrion and taking meetings with him later to discuss matters at the Rock. I will see you later.
See to it that no more bruises line your face between now and then.”

As the door shut behind Tywin, Jaime sat down in a huff. Of course the fight was absurd and
Jaime knew that Brienne was nothing like Cersei. For most of this life, Jaime had been conditioned
to sit back quietly and watch his twin accept the overt affections of men. Even when married to
Robert, she knew how to move her body to capture a man’s attention and get what she wanted.

Brienne was nothing like that. She didn’t use her body as a weapon to get her way. It was unfair to
assume the worst, but Jaime couldn’t understand why Brienne had not claimed him to Tormund.

She offered to ride north of the wall to appease Tormund and Jon, despite being four moons with
his child. She agreed to spar the man; an offer the wildling clearly made only to get physically
close to her. She allowed the wildling to lust after her throughout the evening, without reminding
him of her marital status.

Jaime wanted to raise the topic with Brienne, but he didn’t know how without sounding like a
possessive, insecure fool. He sat in his room thinking on it for some time until Brienne returned to
walk with him to the yards.

The morning air was cool upon Jaime’s face as they stepped outside. A slight dew clung to the
grass and dampened his boots. It was his favorite time of day to spar with Brienne and he loathed
the likelihood of sharing it with the wildling. As Jaime feared, it wasn’t long before Tormund
sought them out.

When Brienne flatly rejected Tormund and kissed Jaime, Jaime felt as though his heart might
explode with joy.

She claimed me.

His sparring was sloppy and distracted that day. The desire to do little more than hold Brienne
close rendered him incompetent with the sword. Brienne only laughed at his absentmindedness.

“Are you planning to spar or are you content to put on your best impersonation of the training
dummy?”

Jaime’s lips curled at one side. His tone filled with jest. “Which would see you closer to me?”

Brienne snorted and dropped her sword to her side. Following the trajectory of her arm, Jaime
smiled at the small swell of their babe. Taking a step forward, Jaime looked around the yard. So
deeply ingrained in Jaime was the inability to participate in his lover’s pregnancy publicly, that he
assumed any touch in the yard unacceptable. “Can I…”

With a heavy eye roll, Brienne took his hand and placed it on her belly. “The babe is yours Jaime. I
might take issue if anyone else starts pawing at me, but you can touch your own babe.”

Mine. My babe. My wife.

A wide smile spread across Jaime’s face as his hand came to rest over her swell. The heat from her
body and his palm mingled, creating a cocoon of warmth over their babe. “Have you felt her move
yet?”

Brienne shook her head in denial. “You keep saying ‘her’. I do hope your baby girl doesn’t come
out with a penis or you will be very confused.”

Jaime snorted and shook his head. “I know it’s a girl. She told me herself.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

With an incredulous expression on his face, Jaime met Brienne’s eyes. “We talk all the time. We
prefer to do so when you’re asleep, so that you can’t interject with your nonsense. Your horrid
telling of our initial journey together in the Riverlands is evidence enough.”

Rubbing his thumb across her belly, Jaime considered last night. His eyes dropped to her belly and
his mind pictured her flying on the back of Viserion to look for an army of dead things. A fierce
protectiveness pooled in his gut. “I don’t want you going north of the wall.”

The atmosphere shifted and he felt Brienne tense under his hand. Jaime did not need to meet
Brienne’s eyes to feel her scowling at him. “I already agreed.”

“Then change your mind. You are the queen and can do as you please.”

“And it pleases me to honor my word! I am going north.” At Brienne’s defiant tone, Jaime’s eyes
snapped to meet hers. They stood rooted in place, glaring at one another before Pod and Arya
entered the yards.

“Are you both training us today!?” Arya hopped off the ledge she had been walking along and into
the yards. At her hip, the small sword which Jon had gifted her remained sheathed, but her hand
danced over the hilt.

“Ser Jaime will train you today. Apparently, he is still in the mood for a fight.” Brienne’s tone was
challenging as she held Jaime’s eyes. The meaning of her words was not lost on Jaime. As she
moved to walk away, Jaime grabbed her wrist.

He leaned in and whispered for Brienne’s ears only. “I only mean to keep you safe. This isn’t about
that.” The tone of his voice betrayed the desperation he felt. He searched Brienne’s eyes for
understanding; some sign that she understood his trepidation.

A passing cloud blocked out the sun and darkened Brienne’s face. An emotion that Jaime could not
identify flickered across her features. It unsettled Jaime as he was always able to read Brienne.

“When I championed you against the Mountain, for all we knew I could have been pregnant. I
could have died, and any babe I may have carried could have died. I went into the combat knowing
that, but I fought for you because it was the honorable thing to do and because I love you. Why
was that risk acceptable then, but not now? If Jon and Tormund speak the truth, death will come
for all of us. We need to prepare.”

Jaime felt his frustration build. “Being queen doesn’t mean being the aid. Sometimes you can send
the aid.”

Brienne shook her head. “I will not leave Daenerys to go alone. We need to take two dragons, just
in case.”

Before she could move away, Jaime tightened the grip on her wrist and closed his eyes. Jaime
sighed and placed his forehead against hers. “Please, Brienne. I can’t lose you.”
“You won’t.”

That night, aid came in the form of Jon Snow; now Jon Stark. Tyrion had been doing research into
dragons of past Targaryens and came to find that they used some time of saddle for battle. Both
Daenerys and Brienne felt it would be a good idea to fit the dragons for them as a safety precaution
for wars to come.

Moving into the yards, Daenerys and Brienne quieted their dragons, Drogon and Viserion, as
Tyrion instructed the smiths on how best to take measurements. At times, both women had to
climb atop the Drogon and Viserion to aid measurements, since the dragons were not fond of non-
riders getting too close.

When it came time to fit Rhaegal, the dragon got into a defensive posturing. Both Brienne and
Daenerys tried to quiet the dragon, but he was not calming. Jaime felt his heart speed at the sight
of the dragon rounding in Brienne. He surged forward protectively, willing to sacrifice his life for
hers.

Jon had the same idea and jump to the queen’s aid. When Jon stepped before Brienne, the dragon
stilled. In an eerily similar motion to how Viserion chose Brienne, Rhaegal studied and sniffed at
Jon. A mewling sound bubbled in the dragon’s gullet as it appraised him.

Daenerys’ face broken into a wide smile. “He is choosing you. You certainly are Rhaegar’s son.”
At her words, Jon looked back to Daenerys in shock.

“I don’t understand.”

Brienne smiled and encouraged Jon to climb atop the dragon. Despite a degree of uncertainty, Jon
slowly mounted the Rhaegal. Daenerys moved quickly to Drogon and instructed Jon. Soon, the two
Targaryens lifted into the air. As if afraid of missing out on the fun, Viserion made his way to
Brienne and nudged at her.

“Gods. Alright, alright.” Brienne grumbled and climbed atop her dragon. All three Targaryens
were soon darting around the skies. When they returned, Jaime ran to Brienne. He had a knowing
smile stretched across his face.

Pulling her into a lingering kiss, Jaime smirked against Brienne’s lips. “It seems that you now have
two riders to send north, your Grace.”

The remaining Targaryens moved towards them. Jon was smiling widely and looked to Brienne.
“That was exhilarating.”

Before Brienne could reply, Jaime jumped in. “So it seems, Lord Stark, that you would know the
best place to look for the dead. Daenerys would be better off flying north with you while Brienne
stays here.”

Both Jon and Daenerys agreed and looked to Brienne. It was Daenerys who spoke. “That should be
the way of it. You’re the queen. You have a kingdom to rule and a babe to keep safe. We can head
north and be back before you know it.”

Jaime saw Brienne’s face sink slightly. He knew that she felt an obligation to do everything herself.
The fact that Jon and Daenerys agreed with his perspective was a much welcome victory. Brienne
nodded in agreement despite her resignation. Pure joy and relief spread through Jaime’s body as he
looped his arm around Brienne’s waist.

Then Jon ruined everything.

“Well, we should likely set out on the morrow. My contingent from the North and Tormund will
remain here until I return. I imagine we will have much to discuss once Daenerys is able to give
credence to our earlier findings.”

Tormund. Seven hells.

 A Lioness In Dornish Clothing
Chapter Summary

Brienne receives her new clothing. Tormund continues to be Tormund.

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Brienne stared into the full-length mirror and gasped. “I can’t wear this. It’s too… too…”

“Revealing, dear. That’s the world you’re looking for and that is the point. The warm weather will
make your pregnancy unbearable. Trust me. I’ve been there. Having something in this style will
lessen the discomfort you are bound to feel.”

Genna’s words did little to mollify Brienne. She wanted to put her breeches and tunic on. Even a
dress would be more appropriate than this. She was in tightly fitted brown breeches that presented
more like a second skin.

The top was a very thin, airy, blue fabric that was lightweight and sleeveless. It hung to knee level
and was sheer as it past the breasts.

Her shoulders were exposed, and the neckline was embarrassingly low. It was a common style in
Dorne and Brienne understood that, but she was not in Dorne nor did she look like a beautiful
Dornish woman.

The dress did its purpose. It was airy and comfortable. Brienne imagined that if she were a
beautiful woman, it would be exceptionally faltering; particularly for her growing belly. That fact
gave her little comfort. She felt too exposed and ugly.

The door opened abruptly to reveal a wet Jaime. His tunic was flung over his shoulder as it often
was when returning from a swim. Water dripped from his hair to his chest. His breeches were
soaked through and his boots looked to be the only dry thing about him.

The past few days had been hotter than most in the city. Brienne felt as though she might die from
the heat in her usual breeches and tunic. It made the realization that she couldn’t possibly wear this
outfit that much more painful.

Brienne felt her face flame as Jaime stopped in his tracks and appraised her. His mouth gaped as his
eyes roamed her body. It was the last outfit that Brienne had been forced into and the most
awkward to be seen in.

At her side, Genna chuckled and muttered to herself. “I knew it.”

“Lovely work as always Myrella. Lets step into the hallway and I’ll get you payment for the
outfits.” Genna ushered the seamstress out as Jaime stood rooted in place. As the women passed,
Genna grabbed Jaime’s arm and winked. “You can thank me later.”

“Just get out.” His voice sounded husky as though he hadn’t drunk water all day.
Looking down at herself, Brienne crossed her arms over her waist. The door to the room closed and
she began to explain the situation. “I hadn’t gotten a chance to give feedback yet and…”

Jaime’s rapidly approaching footsteps caught Brienne’s attention. Before she could finish speaking,
his arm was around her waist, pulling her close. His flesh hand grabbed at the back of her head and
pulled her lips to his.

As his lips left hers and began to trail down her jaw to her neck, he spoke breathlessly against her
skin. A slight shiver ran up her spine at the contact. “Are you going to wear this all day?”

“Why?”

“I just want to know how many times I’m going to have to hide a hard cock.”

Brienne snorted at the words, but before she could protest, Jaime was backing her up quickly
towards the bed. His hand was all over her exposed arms and shoulders. Whimpering slightly, he
protested at the lack of two hands to touch her.

As Brienne’s knees hit the back of the bed, Jaime urged her backwards and towards the pillows. He
dipped his head to the swell of her belly which was easily accessible in the flowing top.

“Now listen in there. You close your eyes. This is not going to be appropriate.”

Oh Gods. Ridiculous.

Before Brienne knew what was happening, Jaime was tugging off the skin like breeches and his
mouth was on her. His tongue dipped between her folds and his hand pushed her leg further to the
side. Brienne felt her heartrate quicken as the familiar ache built in her core.

Fucking hells. Mayhap the outfit is worth it.

Moaning into her forearm, Brienne was acutely aware of the Queensguard outside the door. Since
the night of the fight with Tormund, Brienne had become self-conscious about their constant
presence.

Jaime’s tongue was seemingly everywhere at once. His nose blew warm puffs of air against her
folds causing Brienne to grip the bedsheets with her free hand.

As she found her release, she barely had a moment to recover before Jaime was at her neck; his
cock driving into her at a dizzying rate. Grabbing Jaime’s shoulders for leverage, Brienne wrapped
her long legs around Jaime’s back; tilting her pelvis up to meet his thrusts.

After several more deep, rapid thrusts, Jaime found his release and collapsed on top of her. Their
lips met and they kissed softly.

“So, you like the outfit?”

Jaime snorted at her question and reached for her breast. Unlike most women of court, her breasts
were small by comparison. Jaime’s hand cupped her breast as he placed another deep kiss to her
lips; his tongue rubbing slowly against hers.

“Give me a few minutes and I’ll show you again how much I like it.” His lust-filled eyes ensure
Brienne that there was not jest to his words.

Gods. I best get out of this bed or we’ll never leave it.
Brienne moved from the bed to clean herself. Pulling up her new breeches, Brienne turned back to
him. He lay panting on the bed with his softening cock hanging out of his wet breeches, which he
barely managed to push down before driving into her.

“Where are you off to?” Jaime asked the question absently as he stared at her body. His eyes
roamed her as they had when he first entered the room.

“The men from the North offered to spar with Pod and Arya. I think it’s important that they learn
another style.”

Jaime sat up quickly in the bed and his face fell. “Is Tormund going to be there?”

Oh Gods. Not this again.

With a heavy sigh, Brienne looked to Jaime. Her face was a plea to not make a scene about this. “I
don’t know. The Stark men were watching me train Arya yesterday, and they offered to help.
Tormund wasn’t there, but I don’t know if he will be today. Jaime…”

“I’m coming with you. Are you changing?”

Jaime jumped from the bed and shoved his cock into his breeches. He moved to retrieve his
discarded tunic and quickly dressed.

Brienne looked down at herself. It was so hot outside, but it was more than likely anyone other
than Jaime would find her absurd in the outfit.

“I suppose it isn’t appropriate for a number of reasons. I’ll change.”

“Wait. Why do you say that?”

A warm heat rose in Brienne’s cheeks. She swallowed thickly and glanced back down at herself.

“It’s too revealing. Hardly appropriate. And… I look foolish in it. It’s best that I cover up.”

Jaime’s brows furrowed as he took in the words.

“It’s not too revealing by court’s standards. The Dornish have worn less and no one bats an eye. I
only meant that I don’t imagine it will be easy to spar in. I much prefer you in this than all that
heavy clothing you’ve been walking around in.”

Brienne rolled her eyes at the words. “I’m not sparring. Arya and Pod just asked me to watch so
that I can help them work on areas for improvement later. Regardless, you are the only person who
would not mind seeing me dressed like this. Some women might be a pleasant distraction in this. I
am an eyesore.”

“I’ve told you before, I don’t give a shit if all the other men in Westeros are complete dolts. I think
you’re beautiful. Much more so than the vapid ladies of court. And… that wildling agrees with
me.” Jaime seemed aggravated at the admission and it warmed Brienne’s heart that he was trying
to make her feel better about herself; even at the expense of his comfort.

“That’s kind of you to say, but still, I should…”

Brienne did not get a chance to finish her thought. Jaime was dragging her towards the door. They
stepped into the hallway and Brienne felt panic set in. She began to imagine all the disgusted
expressions from those catching sight of her.
The Queensguard on duty followed them from the rooms and Brienne felt awkward walking in
front of them.

Gods. I can’t imagine what they must think.

Jaime’s hand was firm in hers as they walked through the Keep and outside to the yards. They
stepped outside and Brienne immediately thanked the Gods that she was not wearing her usual
attire. It was sweltering, and she understood why Jaime had been spending so much time in the sea
of late.

The sea breeze toyed with the fabric of her top and kissed the swell of her belly. Jaime smiled
warmly at her as they made their way through the yards.

“You look beautiful. No matter what that dour head of yours thinks. Ignore anyone who says
otherwise.”

A small smile quirked at Brienne’s lips. When she was with Jaime, she felt stronger. More self-
assured. She also knew that Jaime wouldn’t let anyone mock her despite the desire they might feel
to do so. The last person to make that mistake was Ronnet. Things did not end so well for him.

As they arrived at the yards, Brienne could see that the Northmen had already begun warming up.
Pod and Arya stood to the side watching and eager to enter the mix. As their eyes landed on her,
Brienne felt exposed.

Arya nodded approvingly. “You look like one of those Dornish fighters. One of Prince Oberyn’s
bastards. What’s her name? The one here the other week.”

“Nymeria. Somehow I don’t think I look a think like Nymeria.”

Arya shrugged. “Well it looks comfortable. At least it isn’t a dress. It’s fucking hot out here. I’m
sweating already. Are you both going to watch then!?”

Jaime snorted at Brienne’s side and feigned indifference. “Why not? I need to dry out anyway. It’s
hot enough here to do so quickly.”

Brienne rolled her eyes. She knew that Jaime had quite enjoyed training Pod and Arya. He was
particularly fond of Arya though he tried to deny it. Brienne imagined the young girl was much
like what Jaime hoped a daughter might be like. I feisty little fighter who took no shit.

Soon the Northmen came over to bring Pod and Arya into the fold. They were very patient with the
young pair and showed them maneuvers that Brienne was not well-versed in. At her side, Brienne
heard Jaime huff in annoyance.

Following Jaime’s eyeline to the source of his vexation, Brienne saw Tormund approaching. The
wildling’s eyes were wide and his jaw slack.

Oh no.

Tormund bowed dramatically as he approached. “Your Grace! You look beautiful!”

I should have worn my proper clothing.

Brienne felt a possessive arm wrap around her. Jaime’s left hand came to rest at her left hip. His
fingers curled into her hip bone. Remembering that he needed her reassurance as much as she
needed him to feel comfortable in her own body, Brienne reached across her body with her right
arm. She laced their fingers together with his before smiling at Tormund.

“Hello Tormund. Thank you.”

Brienne felt Jaime’s body relax as their fingers linked together. Glancing to Jaime, Brienne could
see his gaze fixed on Tormund. His eyes narrowed in irritation. Something was bothering him.
Looking back to Tormund, she realized what the problem was.

Tormund’s eyes were overtly roaming her body. His eyes flicked to Jaime and he grinned. “You’re
a lucky man.”

“I know.” Jaime’s reply was curt and devoid of warmth. Brienne began to worry for where this
conversation might be headed.

“North of the Wall, we take a woman we want. We call them spear wives.” At Tormund’s words,
Jaime’s grip tightened, and he shifted impossibly closer. His jaw was clenched shut and Brienne
could tell that he was trying his best to exhibit restraint. Tormund continued to speak as Brienne
looked back to him.

“Once a woman has been taken as another man’s wife, we know not to interfere. It’s a shame for
me really. I think the queen and I would make beautiful babies. Great, big monsters that would
conquer the world!”

A great, big monster. How delightful.

Brienne took a deep breath and met Tormund’s eyes. “That’s very kind of you to say, but I know
my babe with my husband will be most impressive. A true lion or lioness.”

“A lion?” Tormund’s brows furrowed at the words.

“Yes, the Lannisters are lions. I’ve heard tales that when enraged, they take the form of lions and
devour their prey. Most ferocious stories really. I’m certain you just haven’t been in the south long
enough to hear the tales. ‘Hear me roar.’ It is their House saying. My husband is known as the
Young Lion by his people. He leads their pride. Our cub will be most ferocious.”

Tormund’s eyes went wide as he appraised Jaime; an approving smile on the wildling’s face.
Glancing to Jaime, Brienne could see a vicious smile curl at his lips. Taking a step forward, Jaime
placed his maimed arm on Tormund’s shoulder.

“Great to see you Tormund, but the queen and I must be going now. Mayhap we’ll see you for
dinner?”

Tormund nodded dumbly and Brienne felt Jaime tugging her towards the armory.

I am not dressed for a spar. I told him this.

As they quickly moved inside, Jaime slammed the door before the two stunned looking
Queensguard. The armory was empty save for the slew of weapons left out by those training in the
yards.

Jaime barred the door and spun Brienne around. As Brienne tried to ask what he was doing,
Jaime’s lips found hers. He was desperate with need and his hand roamed her body.

“Gods, I need you. Now, Brienne.”

 “Here!? In the armory!?” Brienne’s voice came out high-pitched with shock.

“It was either here or right there in front of everyone.”

When they next emerged from the armory. The Queensguard were holding back a group of soldiers
looking to return their weapons from training. At Brienne’s approach, the group bowed, and she
tried to keep a straight face.

Oh Gods. How mortifying.

Jaime seemed all too pleased with himself. “You lot need to keep the armory in better order. The
queen was most displeased to see the state it was in. Someone should tend to that.”

Yes, great. And who will tend to the rack that we broke?

Making their way towards the castle for lunch, Jaime took Brienne’s hand in his. He looked to
Brienne with soft eyes and a warm smile.

“So… turning into lions?”

Brienne snorted and shrugged. “It seemed better than great, monster babies conquering the world.”

Jaime chuckled and looked back down the hallway. He slowed for a moment but pulled her closer;
his voice low and tickling her ear. “Thank you for shutting him up. For… claiming me.”

Brienne’s eyes snapped to Jaime. She could see the vulnerability in his eyes. He didn’t need to say
it. The only prior relationship he had was with his own sister. Brienne understand Cersei’s inability
to claim Jaime as her own, but she also heard the rumors. Cersei used her body to get what she
wanted from men. Jaime had to watch from afar as it happened.

Halting their progress, Brienne met Jaime’s eyes. “I’m not her, Jaime. I said my vows to you in
front of gods and men. Even if I could stray, I would not. I want you and only you... Insufferable as
you can be.” At the last comment, Brienne smirked, and her voice took on a teasing lilt.

Jaime looked at her with nothing but unbridled love in his eyes. He cupped her cheek and placed a
soft, chaste kiss to her lips.

His hand came to rest at the swell of her belly. A smile tugged at his lips.

“Did you hear that little lioness? Your mother is obsessed with me.”

Truly insufferable.

Chapter End Notes

Part 1 will end shortly and then I'll move to Part 2 (Preparing for the Dead + the Long
Night)
 An Unknown Enemy
Chapter Summary

Jon and Daenerys return with word of the dead from north of the Wall.

In total, Daenerys and Jon were gone a fortnight. It was longer than they planned and for good
reason. They found the Night King’s army of over 100,000 dead things moving south, but they
nearly lost Drogon in the process.

The Night King proved to possess a deadly accuracy with a spear. A single throw tore through the
dragon’s wing and nearly claimed his life. Now, everyone sat around the small council table
figuring out what to do.

“So, what are ways to kill them?” Tyrion asked the obvious question on everyone’s mind as he
looked to Jon.

“We know Valyrian steel and dragonglass will kill them. Fire only seems to destroy the wights. We
tested the theory by passing through once with the dragons and laying waste to their ranks. It was
then that the Night King took aim at Drogon.”

Jaime sighed and glanced at Brienne. She had been quiet since first hearing Jon and Daenerys
recount their findings. Turning back to Jon, Jaime appraised the former bastard turned Targaryen.

“What of the Night King and his… officers? You said they are different somehow?”

Jon nodded emphatically and Tormund grunted in agreement before speaking. The wilding was the
most serious that Jaime had seen Tormund since his arrival to King’s Landing.

“They attacked my people at Hardhome. Only the wights fell under fire, but not the White Walkers.
They were unphased by fire. Walked right through flames and nearly took the little crow’s head
off.”

At the words, Jon snorted. “Aye, that thing was stronger than any man that I’ve ever faced.”

A wide smirk pulled at Jaime’s lips and he turned to Brienne. “I’m strong enough.”

Brienne muttered under her breath as a blush colored her cheeks. “Oh Gods.”

The room had fallen quiet at the information presented. While Jaime would have preferred to
confirm the threat for himself, he trusted Daenerys and Jon. The injury to Drogon’s wing certainly
helped back their claim.

Tyrion broke the silence with yet another question. “Do we know the speed at which they’re
moving south? If they’re at Hardhome, I daresay that is not terribly far from the Wall.”

Jaime snorted at the question. How fast is literal death moving on us?

Unable to resist, Jaime turned to Tyrion. “Shall we send a raven to the Night King? Ask when
exactly he plans to tear down the wall and kill us all off?”
Tyrion glanced to Jon and Tormund who could offer little more than a shrug. “It’s a fair question!
Do we know where they were before the attack? It could give us a sense of their movements.”

Leaning back in his chair, Tormund rubbed at his beard. “The dead have been building in the far
north for some time. For the past four years, my people told tales of White Walkers sighted not far
from our camps. The Thenns fled south to our villages giving firsthand accounts. They lived in a
valley of the Frostfangs. A vicious people. They don’t scare easy, but I seen it in their eyes. They
spoke true. Then death came for us.”

Jaime crossed his arms and leaned back. He spoke sarcastically as he appraised the group. “So for
four years, they’ve barely covered much ground in the bloody north. They spend their days
marching about building an army of dead things. It could be just as many years before they come
south. How will they even get south? I doubt they’re pushing around trebuchets or carrying siege
towers that tall.”

Brienne exhaled in thinly veiled irritation at his side. She looked to Jaime and her eyes spoke for
her. ‘Do shut up.’

Throwing up his hands in surrender, Jaime huffed and pressed his lips into a thin line. Tyrion’s
eyes landed on Jaime as he spoke next. “What I believe my brother means to say, is that we need to
prepare immediately since we don’t know if we have moons or years before the dead arrive.
Unfortunately, we only have so much Valyrian steel. Three swords by my count...”

“Four.”

Arya’s voice filled the room. The command in her tone betrayed her age and size. All eyes fell to
her as she threw a dagger onto the table.

“I took it from Baelish when they held me at the Rock.”

Jaime guffawed. “Where the fuck did you even come from!? What little girl just steals off with a
Valyrian steel dagger and keeps it hidden away for moons?”

Casting an unimpressed glance at Jaime, Arya spoke challengingly. “I’ve hardly been concealing
it. Perhaps you’ve been too distracted staring at our knight-queen to notice it.”

Point well made.

Jaime leaned forward on the table and smirked at the young wolf. “Great. So, we have three
Valyrian steel swords and a child sized weapon, wielded by a child. Perfect. I do believe we are
fucked.”

“Not necessarily.” Tyrion rubbed at his chin and considered their plight. “Let me do some research,
but I would venture there is dragonglass to be mined in Westeros. We’ll need to put forces to it
immediately if I can track some down. Then there is the matter of fire…”

With an uneasy glance, Tyrion looked to Brienne and Jaime. Jaime knew where Tyrion’s mind was
headed and wanted nothing to do with it. “No. No wildfire. It’s too dangerous and we’ve only just
reached the final wildfire caches below the bloody city.”

Putting up a defensive hand, Tyrion shook his head. “No, I wasn’t recommending we produce it
here. We would need somewhere safe to have the alchemists work on it, but ironically… it could
save us.”

Jaime felt his body tense at the thought of producing more wildfire when they had spent moons
trying to destroy the substance. A comforting hand came to rest on his leg, drawing his eyes to
Brienne. Holding Jaime’s eyes, she spoke.

“We won’t rule it out, but first lets see what we can do to find dragonglass.”

Images of men engulfed in green flames rushed to the forefront of Jaime’s mind. He despised the
substance and had hoped to see the last of it destroyed within a fortnight.

Interrupting Jaime’s thoughts, Ser Barristan redirected the conversation to the Night King’s army.
What of their forces? Do they have a cavalry of some kind? Is it purely comprised of dead foot
soldiers?”

Daenerys spoke at Jon’s side; a wary look on her face. “There appeared only a small number of
horses among them. The White Walkers and the Night King rode them. There were… other
things.”

Jaime’s eyes flicked to Brienne. Gods. What now?

Before she continued, Daenerys glanced sideways at Jon and took a deep breath. “There looked to
be… spiders of some kind.”

Jaime raised a challenging brow at Daenerys. “Spiders? Either you have the best vision, or you
drank some of that shit from Tormund’s horn.”

The wildling had taken to bringing his drinking horn to every dinner since the contingent from the
North arrived over a fortnight ago. It was the only thing that stunk more than the redhead himself.
Over last night’s meal, Tormund shared the most peculiar story of how he came to be known as
Tormund Giantsbane.

It was then that Jaime realized how much he enjoyed having Brienne with him when the wilding
was around. Her facial reactions were most unqueenly, and the expressions delighted Jaime.

Any mirth in the wildling’s tone from the night prior was gone when he spoke next. His eyes
looked as dead as the army they discussed facing. “I’ve seen it. I hardly believed it at the time, but
when you stand there and watch that thing tear one of your friends to shreds, you learn to take it
seriously. We didn’t have the fancy weapons to face it. Took near a dozen of us to bring the
creature down with fire.”

The sobering comment cast a somber atmosphere over the room. It was Brienne who broke the
silence. “I’m sorry for all that your people have endured at the hands of these creatures. We’ll join
you now in this fight. Whatever comes our way.”

When the council eventually concluded, Jaime felt they were no closer to answers than when they
began. The war to come unnerved Jaime. He was accustomed to facing living men across a
battlefield. Timelines and opposing forces were more concrete. An enemy’s objective was
understood. This enemy provided no known desire nor schedule.

Jaime eye’s flitted to Brienne’s belly and he had every urge to lock her away safely in the Keep
until the threat had passed. Were Jaime not so aware of her ability to beat him to a pulp, he would
have recommended as much.

The rest of the day was a mess of meetings with various council members and dignitaries. Jaime
wanted little more than to secret Brienne away to the beach for a swim. The idea of drifting into
the bay as though the current could carry away their worries seemed the only option to tackle every
emotion coursing through Jaime.
What if the dead arrive before the babe? What if the dead arrive and I can’t save Brienne and the
babe? What if the dead arrive and I lose them before my eyes?

Jaime found himself in the yard, pummeling the training dummy as every worst-case scenario ran
through his mind. It was the voice of Ser Barristan that tore him from his decimation of the straw
opponent.

“Ser Jaime.”

Turning towards the older knight, Jaime eyed him and nodded. “Ser Barristan.”

“You’ve seemed restless since the council meeting.” Barristan walked towards Jaime; hands
clasped behind his back. For a moment, the posturing reminded Jaime of Tywin. It was enough to
make him chuckle inwardly at the sight.

“I don’t much care for enemies who don’t clearly state their intentions.”

With a huff of laughter, Barristan came to stand before Jaime. His gold armor caught the last rays
of the setting sun. “Walk with me.”

Obliging the older knight, Jaime sheathed his sword and fell into step beside Barristan. They had
taken walks through the castle grounds on several occasions since Barristan returned to King’s
Landing with a Targaryen beside him. With a heavy sigh, Barristan looked to the setting sun.

“I remember the helpless feeling. Standing guard as the family I served was carried out one by one
from the flames at Summerhall. I was not a Kingsgaurd yet. That would come the following year. I
watched a knight that I most admired, Ser Duncan, perish in the flames. He did all he could to
protect those he served faithfully. Well… they were his family too in a way. A chosen family.”

Barristan cast a knowing glance at Jaime. The implication of Brienne’s lineage looming heavy
between them. Before Jaime realized where they were, they had arrived at the White Sword Tower.
Jaime followed Barristan up the steps and into a room he was all too familiar with.

In the center of the room, laying open on the table, was the Book of Brothers. Barristan walked
over to the book and flipped through the pages. When Barristan landed on one page in particular,
he pointed and looked back at Jaime. “Ser Duncan the Tall. Have you ever read the pages? Four in
total. A great deal of valiant acts.”

Jaime stood next to Barristan and appraised the page. He smiled at the knowledge that his wife was
descended from such a knight. It was befitting her character, and Jaime mused there would be
many pages detailing Brienne’s exploits.

Looking to the pages, Jaime shook his head. “I’ve heard the tales, but in truth, I never sat down and
read them myself. I made the entries as was required of me, but… I hadn’t the heart to look
through it. My name sullied the book. I couldn’t bear to read the good deeds of those before me.”

It pained Jaime to admit it to a knight such as Ser Barristan, but Jaime was reviled for his one
honorable act. Everything after that, Jaime felt was a failure of epic proportions.

Barristan hummed. “I understand where your mind is at, Ser Jaime. You like to make silly little
japes, but you use laughter to mask the worry. Worry for your wife. Worry for your babe. I must
admit, I thought the worst when I heard that she had married you. Yet again, a monarch is removed
from the throne and there you are. Quite convenient.”

Looking to Jaime’s eyes, Barristan continued. “The queen vouched for you, so I gave you the
benefit of the doubt. That day in the yards when she shared how you lost your hand, I thought
perhaps I was unfair in my assumption. Perhaps you at least, cared for her and your father ensured
the match made. That day on the battlefield when our queen was in danger, I saw the panic. It was
as though you were watching your entire world get ripped away from you. I knew then that I was
wrong. I see how you love her.”

Barristan looked back to the book. “Ser Duncan loved his chosen family. He did not know that
day, that he would die protecting them to his last breath; literally. He got out as many as he could
and ordered me to stand guard. He didn’t know what faced him when he awoke that day. No one
did. He simply acted in the moment, and he did everything he could to protect those he loved. We
don’t know what is marching our way or when or why. All you need to do as a knight, as a
husband, and as a father, is fight when the time comes. If you can do that, you will not let them
down. Can you do that?”

Jaime nodded wordlessly as the knight’s words washed over him. Then Barristan flipped many
pages over to Jaime’s page. He placed a warm hand on Jaime’s shoulder and leaned in. “And you
should stop being so hard on yourself. It is the rest of us who erred in judgement. You’re a fine
knight, Ser Jaime. Were you not our Prince Consort, I would be honored to fight beside you on the
Kingsguard again.”

At that, Barristan left the room and Jaime looked closely at his page.

He updated the book.

“Ser Jaime Lannister

Squired for Ser Barristan Selmy against the Kingswood Outlaws.

Knighted and named to the Kingsguard in his sixteenth year for valor in the field.

At the sack of King’s Landing, murdered the mad king, Aerys the second of his name, at the foot
of the Iron Throne to save the city from wildfire.

Pardoned by King Robert Baratheon.

Sacrificed his sword hand and risked his life to save the rightful heir to the Iron Throne, Queen Ser
Brienne Lannister née Tarth, first of her name.

Led Queen Ser Brienne Lannister’s forces against the false king, Stannis Baratheon and the rebels
from the Vale.

Volunteered as the Crown’s Champion in the Trial by Combat of a traitor from House Bolton, who
sought to overthrow the queen.”
 A New Line
Chapter Summary

A few moons later - Brienne goes into labor

Chapter Notes

See the end of the chapter for notes

Tywin sat on a large rock at the beach, listening to the waves lap against the shore. It was an
overcast day, though the temperature was unbearable. Sweat dotted Tywin’s brow as he leaned
over his book.

He wasn’t much of a swimmer. Like Tyrion, Tywin preferred reading by the water or fishing. Had
it not been for the pair in the water, he likely would not have bothered coming to the beach at all.

In the distance, Tywin could hear Jaime needling Brienne. She was eight moons pregnant and her
patience was wearing thin. It seemed his son was testing his luck… again.

Lifting his head to appraise the pair, Tywin groaned.

Gods. Must they swim so damn far? The boy has one hand and Brienne looks ready to drop the
babe any moment.

Tywin watched them for several minutes before looking back to his book. He was reading more on
the Tarth line at Selwyn’s insistence. The island of a man sent the book along with other gifts for
Tywin. Most notably, some brandy.

Selwyn was a proud man, and he spoke boastfully of every Tarth to have graced the Seven
Kingdoms. With Selwyn having returned to Tarth from Storm’s End, he and Tywin corresponded
by raven frequently. Tywin hated to admit it, but he missed his friend.

His missed their morning meals of Alice’s creation. He missed Selwyn’s absurd recommendations
for how to deal with anyone deemed a nuisance. His missed arguing over who the babe would be
named after; little Selwyn or little Tywin. Naturally, Selwyn recommended ‘little Selwyna’ for a
girl.

As amusing as the debates with Selwyn were, Tywin knew he would not see a grandbabe named
after him. He had been a shit father to his sons for much of their lives. Tywin imagined that the
pair floating in the sea before him would name a boy after Selwyn. If not Selwyn, perhaps they
would honor one of the great knights in the history of Westeros. It always seemed to be Jaime’s
way; chasing after his heroes.

Oh well. I suppose I already have my little Ty, but even still, it would have been amusing to see a
Tywin Lannister on the throne. Gods willing, I won’t live to see the crown change hands anyway. I
can’t bear the thought of outliving my Brienne.

Tywin chuckled inwardly as he thumbed through the pages of the book and landed on the Tarth
Triplets. He remembered the tale from Selwyn’s first visit. The triplets whose existence forever
entwined the lines of Tarth and Targaryen.
Now wouldn’t that be something. Triplets. Ha! I do believe the Tarth Triples were likely the last
triplets to grace Westeros. A rare thing indeed.

A shrill cry caught Tywin’s attention. Leaping from the rock he was perched on, Tywin’s eyes
scanned the horizon. He saw the back of Jaime’s head, but two arms were draped over his
shoulders. Then Jaime turned slightly, and Tywin could see Brienne’s face. She was in
excruciating pain and Tywin felt a slight panic set in.

Tywin bellowed out to them before he felt the presence of the Queensguard at his side. “Enough
now you two! Come to shore!” Ser Barristan and Ser Endrew were on duty and both looked uneasy
at the sight before them.

“It’s getting worse. This wasn’t good idea.” Endrew’s words took Tywin by surprise as he looked
to the new Queensguard. Addam and Endrew had taken their vows not long after the Northern
contingent departed some moons ago. They filled two of three vacancies on the Queensguard. The
third spot was highly sought after, but still undeclared.

Brienne’s idea had been a good one. More skilled, honorable, and loyal knights wanted to become
part of the elite Queensguard, now that restrictions on marriage were lifted. Addam wasted little
time in enjoying the Queensguard’s new privilege of allowing the prestigious knights to lay with
lovers.

For the first moon, Addam seemed to enjoy bedding anything with tits and breathing. Then
someone caught his eye. A certain Targaryen cousin to the queen.

Tywin had laughed at Addam, as the ever-loyal knight tripped over himself trying to impress
Daenerys. She feigned disinterest, but Tywin could tell she was fancied the man. They seemed to
find excuses to be in rooms at the same time. Addam often volunteered for Queensguard duties
when he knew Brienne was spending time with her distant cousin.

It seems redheads have a thing for women with Targaryen blood.

Daenerys and Tywin had forged a strange bond over the last few moons. The young woman
enjoyed hearing stories of her deceased kin from Tywin, Jaime, and Barristan. She was but a child
when most of her family met the Stranger, and it was obvious she longed for familial ties.

It was also nice to see the blossoming kinship between Brienne and Daenerys. They looked out for
one another and made a fine pair in their quest to ‘break the wheel’. Both were strong and dogged;
a desire to leave Westeros a better place than they entered it.

Compared to Addam and his quest to win Daenerys’ favor, Endrew was a very different man. In
some ways, the knight from Tarth reminded Tywin of Barristan or Jaime. He was a skilled
swordsman and had little interest in chasing after the women of court for a meaningless fuck. He
only wanted to be a great knight and serve honorably.

Turning to Endrew, Tywin considered the knight’s words. “What do you mean ‘it’s getting
worse’?”

Endrew sighed and looked to Barristan. The knight’s worry lines did not ease as he spoke. “She has
been having labor pains all morning, my lord. The midwife thought she might not be drinking
enough water. When hydrating didn’t work, her Grace thought a dip in the sea might suppress her
pains.”

“What!? You let her swim out there while in labor!? She should be abed!” Tywin’s head snapped
back to Jaime and Brienne as they slowly made their way to shore. Every so often, they took pause
and Jaime supported Brienne as another wave of pain hit her.

With a heavy sigh at Tywin’s side, Barristan eyed the waterlogged knights. “We find it is easier to
serve her Grace if our heads remain atop our shoulders.”

Gods damnit. This girl will be the death of me.

As Jaime and Brienne approached, the Queensguard moved to her side and helped her to shore.
Pain was writ across Brienne’s face and Jaime studied her in a panic.

Tywin grabbed Jaime’s arm and spoke through clenched teeth. “How long has she been like this?”

It was no use. Jaime was fixated on Brienne and starting to panic. “It’s too early. The babe isn’t
ready.”

Shaking Jaime’s arm, Tywin forced his son’s eyes to meet his. “I said, how long has she been like
this?”

“Since last night.”

What!? What is wrong with these two!? She needs the birthing bed.

It took every ounce of restraint in Tywin not to lose his temper on the beach. Brienne curled in on
herself as another wave of pain hit. Barristan and Endrew tried to encourage her towards the castle,
but she remained rooted in place, sitting on the rocky shoreline.

“No! It isn’t time. I want to get back in the water. I’m likely just tired. I didn’t sleep much last
night.” Brienne’s tone conveyed her annoyance at the situation. Standing mutely at her feet, Jaime
began to pace as his hand ran through his hair. Then he began ranting aloud.

“The midwife said when the pain is closer together. She said come inside when they’re closer
together. This is fucking close together, Brienne. Very fucking close together.” If Tywin wasn’t so
worried, he would have laughed at the pair of them. Brienne was trying to will away labor and
Jaime was using the time to squabble with her over the midwife’s instructions.

Only they would do this, right here and right now.

“You Grace, you need to get inside the Keep now.” Tywin’s tone was the most fatherly he could
muster in the moment. By no means did he imagine it would have the same impact on Brienne as
Selwyn’s booming voice, but it should provide more reasonable direction than Brienne’s frantic
husband.

“I just need more time! It isn’t time yet. I can go to the yards. I can train for a bit.” At Brienne’s
words, Jaime started laughing nervously like a madman.

“The fucking yards. Yes, lets do that. Lets ignore the midwife. Lets have the babe while you’re
trying to take someone’s head off. I suppose then you could just use the sword to cut the cord.”

Abruptly, silent tears began to fall down Brienne’s face. She shook her head and balled her fists in
willful defiance. It caught them all off guard to see Brienne’s emotions so unguarded. It only
served to send Jaime into a further panic.

“Brienne, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it. You just need some water and rest. Or… come back in the
sea! You can float against me. You said it was helping a little.”
Snapping her tear-stained face to Jaime, Brienne shook her head as her lips pressed firmly together.
When she composed herself, she spoke with fear heavy in her tone. “No. No. I can’t. I can’t do this.
I can’t.”

Reading the situation, Tywin understood it then.

They’re afraid. They’ve both lost their mothers to the birthing bed.

Squatting before Brienne, Tywin placed a firm hand at the nape of her neck. Brienne looked to
Tywin and he could see the terror in her eyes. “Listen to me. You are a knight. You will be just
fine as will that babe. Right now, you need to get into the Keep. You must protect the innocent,
correct? Staying out here too much longer risks the babe’s life. It will be fine, Brienne.”

Brienne nodded slowly in understanding and stood up. The Queensguard rushed to grab her elbows
and guide her inside. Turning back to Jaime, Tywin put a steadying hand on his son’s shoulder and
spoke in hushed tones.

“You worry for her as any husband should, but you must be strong now. Why don’t you fetch the
midwife? We’ll get her to the room.”

Jaime nodded and put on his boots before running off to find the midwife. Trailing behind Brienne
and the Queensguard, Tywin sent a silent prayer to the Mother to keep Brienne safe. Her time had
come too early. Then Tywin’s mind wandered to Selwyn.

Selwyn wasn’t due in King’s Landing for another moon for the birth of the babe, and Tywin
couldn’t bear the thought of his friend arriving early for a funeral. Everything seemed to be
happening too quickly and too early.

Their group had to stop several times on the way to the Keep as pain took hold of Brienne. She
seemed to get weaker with each wave; her face straining as she breathed through it. When at last
they came to the castle, Tywin ran ahead to find Genna.

While Brienne would have the midwife and Grand Maester Pycelle with her, Genna could provide
some maternal comfort. Further, Tywin was determined to keep Jaime out from the birthing room.
Jaime would serve as too much of a distraction for Brienne; something that could not be afforded.

Of course, when Tywin found his sister, she was with Olenna. The two women quickly pushed
Tywin out of the way and ran towards Brienne’s chambers.

Gods, help my daughter. I’ve sent off two badgers.

Tywin arrived at Brienne’s room and found it in a most chaotic state of activity. Both Endrew and
Barristan stood guard outside the door while the maester and midwife set everything up. Brienne
was writhing in pain on the bed as Olenna and Genna tried to force Jaime from the room.

“I’m staying with her!” Jaime climbed onto the bed beside Brienne and ignored the women’s
instructions. As Genna’s eyes landed on Tywin, she stormed over.

“Come get your son out of here! Brienne needs to focus, and he will hardly help matters!” Genna’s
tone brokered no argument and Tywin could do little more than huff in defeat.

He understood Jaime’s desire to be with Brienne. Tywin looked to his son and saw the worry in his
eyes. As Brienne curled in on herself, Jaime rubbed her back and whispered to her. The image
reminded Tywin of his fear for Joanna when she took to the birthing bed, but he had to compose
himself and leave the room. It was what he was raised to do. The Lannister way. No emotions. No
fear.

Stupidity is what it was. What good did it do when Joanna left this world birthing Tyrion, while I
was being ‘strong’ in my study. I’ll never forget the sound as she screamed her way to the
Stranger?

On the other hand, Tywin knew that Jaime could be a bit excessive. The panic on his face at the
beach was evidence enough. Given her own trepidation, Brienne needed nothing save calm and
reassurance. She needn’t waste energy trying to soothe her panicked husband.

Jaime looked to be breaking down already. His eyes began to dart frantically around the room as
Brienne cried out in pain. He tried imploring with her to talk to him, but she could do little more
than bat him away.

This won’t do. Gods damnit.

Marching over to the bed, Tywin grabbed Jaime’s arm. “Son, you need to leave her be. Come with
me.”

“No! I’m not leaving her!” Jaime tore his arm away and went back to trying to get Brienne’s
attention. The women in the room looked more than miffed, and Tywin put up his hand in
understanding.

Leaning into Jaime’s ear, Tywin whispered commandingly. “I need you to understand something.
Come into the hallway now, before I get the damn Queensguard in here to remove you.”

Jaime looked to Tywin with an affronted expression on his face. “My wife needs me!”

“No, she needs her midwife and the Grand Maester. Genna and Olenna will be here too. Unless
you plan on birthing the babe yourself, come into the damn hallway.”

With knitted brows, Jaime turned back to Brienne and kissed her head. “I’ll be right back,
Brienne.”

As Tywin pushed Jaime from the room, he mouthed instruction to Genna. ‘Bar the door.’

When they were in the hallway, Jaime rounded on Tywin. “Now what is so damn important that
you’ve forced me to leave my wife’s side!? She needs me.”

Tywin took a deep breath and shook his head. “We can’t let you back in there. You’re took
panicked. Brienne needs to concentrate and tending to you will only worsen the struggle. This is
her battle. You can’t help her with his.”

Jaime’s eyes went wide and he pushed past his father to enter the room. Fear took his son as Jaime
realized what they had done. He pushed against the door, but it would not open. “No! Let me in!
She needs me.” Tywin’s eyes flickered to Barristan who could only shake his head at the scene.

“Ser Barristan, I’m going to take my son to my room. Please inform Lady Genna of our location
should Brienne have need of Jaime.”

At Tywin’s words, Jaime turned around and began to panic. “No! I’m not leaving! I’m staying
here. She needs me. She isn’t ready. It’s too soon!”

Jaime’s breathing labored and Tywin groaned inwardly at Jaime’s building meltdown. “Lets go see
Tyrion, Jaime. He can join us. I’m certain he has ample inappropriate stories to distract you with. I
promise that if anything starts to go wrong, they will fetch you. You have my word."

Tywin cast a glance at Barristan to ensure the instructions were clear. With a nod, the aged Lord
Commander of the Queensguard indicated understanding.

“I don’t want to see Tyrion. I want to see my wife!” Jaime’s panic was growing by the minute and
Tywin knew he needed to get him away from the room before Brienne could hear him.

Stepping forward, Tywin grabbed Jaime’s arm and tugged. “You are causing a scene and it will
upset Brienne. Do you want to do that? Do you want to upset Brienne?”

The words seemed to resonate, and Jaime shook his head numbly.

“Good. Then come this way. We’ll have a seat in my room.”

As they walked to Tywin’s room, Jaime kept looking back over his shoulder. It pained Tywin to
see his son in such a state, but it was for the best. He was not calm enough to be present. It was
likely the unexpectedness of the early labor that put him in such a state.

When they entered Tywin’s room, Tywin guided Jaime to a seat and offered him water. It was then
that Tywin realized how ashen Jaime looked and how labored his son’s breathing was. Tywin
remembered when he was a boy and suffered a similar affliction. A terrible bout of anxiety.

Tywin always despised being laughed at and it likely resulted in his finding humor in so little. As a
boy of eight, Tywin had a meltdown that reminded him of Jaime’s current plight. After a
particularly poor showing in the yards, Tywin feared an inability to achieve perfection with the
sword.

He found himself unable to breathe nor talk himself down as he so often could when he grew
disappointed in himself. It was his mother who calmed him.

Tywin moved quickly to the water basin in his room. The bar of soap was of lavender scent; similar
to what his mother had used that day. Dampening a cloth and rubbing the soap on it, Tywin moved
back to Jaime.

He pushed Jaime back in the chair with both his stump and hand. He could feel Jaime’s heart
hammering under his maimed wrist. Placing his palm flat on Jaime’s chest just below the neck,
Tywin held the cool cloth underneath. He stood over his son and spoke calmly to him.

“You need to count. Count in your head until it doesn’t hurt to breathe.”

Tywin waited patiently until Jaime’s heart slowed to a steady rhythm. When Jaime’s color
returned, Tywin threw the damp rag to the side and pulled up a chair before Jaime.

“Did I ever tell of you of your birth?” Tywin knew that he hadn’t. Such conversation was
sentimental drivel that two handed Tywin refused to allocate time for. Jaime’s head tipped forward
and his brows furrowed.

“I thought not. I remember it vividly. Like you, I was a bit of a mess. I locked myself away in the
study pretending to work on missives as though it phased me little that my wife was practically
shaking the Rock with her screams of pain.”

With a heavy sigh, Tywin looked out the window as his mind conjured the image. “When finally
the castle grew silent, my anxiety peaked. I paced the bloody room for what felt an eternity. The
maester came to collect me and I steeled myself. He told me that I had a daughter… and a son.
 That your sister came out with you clutching at her heel. It was utter nonsense I imagine, but I
couldn’t believe my ears. Twins.”

A small smile tugged at Tywin’s lips. “Of course, I couldn’t rush right off to the nursery to see
you. That would be far too soppy. I waited until the castle staff settled and I could see Joanna. Then
I went to the nursery to appraise my children.”

The scene came to his mind with such clarity that it felt real. It was as though he could reach out
and touch his newborn babes.

“Cersei was a… difficult babe. It wasn’t that she cried, but nothing seemed to satisfy her. She
scowled constantly as though everyone had inconvenienced her terribly. You on the other hand,
cried constantly. You only wanted to be held or near your twin. Joanna coddled you and I hated it. I
told her that she would make you soft. That you would be weak.”

Tywin’s eyes flickered to Jaime who grimaced at the words.

“I was wrong of course. That you are so loving gives you strength. You will hold your family soon.
Don’t do what I did. Don’t let them go and they’ll be stronger for it.”

A slight surprise took hold of Jaime’s features before he looked to the floor and nodded. They sat
in companionable silence for what felt an eternity. Then a knock at the door came. Both men
jumped from their seats and Tywin moved quickly answer it.

On the other side was a weary looking Genna.

Gods. Don’t bring dark words.

Tywin thought back to his own visit from the maester when Joanna died. The man’s face drawn
and apologetic before the words came. Blood splattered on his clothing. The memory felt as vivid
as his earlier recollection of his twins’ birth.

Looking to Genna, Tywin saw the slight blood stains adorning her skirts. Tywin wanted to protect
Jaime from any words that fell from Genna’s mouth bearing news of the Stranger. A slight
protective posturing took hold of his stance as he moved to block Genna from Jaime. His heart
quickening, Tywin needed to hear only that Brienne was alive and recovering.

Give me a sign, Genna. Look at me.

As if reading his mind, she looked to Tywin and put a hand on his arm, slowly moving him aside.
She strode into the room and stood before Jaime. Cupping Jaime’s cheeks, Genna spoke warmly.

“You have two sons… and a daughter.”

Jaime’s eyes went wide in shock at the information. Shaking the astonishment from his mind,
Jaime asked one question.

“Brienne?”

Taking a deep breath, Genna smiled.

“She said that she’s going to kill you herself.”

Chapter End Notes

 Thank you to everyone for reading this latest bit of OOC craziness. I'm cutting part 1
here (because it is a beast). More about the triplets is discussed in the next chapter, but
for anyone preferring to stop here, the boys are identical (Monozygotic) and the girl is
fraternal. I was going to just do a singleton birth, but I mean... book canon Tarth
Triplets (from GRRM Fire & Blood). How could I not for this fic? It's already insane.

For anyone interested in following along, part 2 is up next (first chapter to be posted
tomorrow). Part 2 is mostly focused on the Long Night.

Please drop by the archive and comment to let the author know if you enjoyed their work!