Chapter Text
News of the end of the war travelled swiftly throughout Westeros; both through the ravens that seemed to be flying in every direction, and through word of mouth, though in those cases the truth tended to get a bit twisted. While the stable boys at Winterfell whispered between themselves of the storming of the Red Keep and what the new leadership would bring, Brienne held her breath as Sansa gave her a play-by-play of what happened in King’s Landing in the wake of the castle’s capture.
While Brienne initially wanted to go with Sansa to King’s Landing, to protect her in case tensions rose between the remaining families the would convene there. However, Sansa asked Brienne to stay in Winterfell and act in a temporary leadership position while she, Bran, and Arya left. Brienne tried to protest that she wasn’t the most qualified, but she was the only person Sansa trusted enough to handle it, and the most honorable.
The meeting at the Red Keep, according to Sansa, had resulted in many changes, all seemingly for the better. Daenerys was given the title of Queen of the Six Kingdoms, as the North was granted independence so long as trade and alliance would continue, with Jon as her hand. Sansa was given the North to rule, with Tyrion as her hand.
Apparently Sansa and Tyrion had reconnected since the Battle at Winterfell. Brienne was surprised, though it seemed most of the others weren’t as much; she blamed the man who had held so much of her attention the past few months. Though, if she was being honest with herself, it was more like the past few years. Regardless, on the way back to Winterfell, the two had decided to remarry, both as a political decision to promote peace amongst the once warring houses, and also a decision fueled by emotions.
When Brienne heard this, her heart thudded loudly in her chest and she drew in a shaky breath. They had finally reached the topic of conversation Brienne was both eager and wary to discuss; the Lannisters.
Sansa noticed the pained expression return to Brienne’s face, all to familiar in the recent weeks. “We can discuss this later, I’m sure you’re quite tired. You’ve been single-handedly running the North in the wake of quite a trying time. Maybe we should save the rest for a later date.”
Brienne shook her head, swallowing the kept tears, and trying to mask her eyes though she knew it was a loosing battle. “No, my queen,” she smiled slightly, glad to be addressing Sansa as such, “I would like to know, if you’d tell me.”
Sansa bowed her head, “Of course.” She was suddenly missing Tyrion’s now familiar hand on hers, the way his thumb would rub comforting circles into her skin. She breathed in, “Once Daenerys stormed the Red Keep, Cersei was immediately taken into custody.”
“Was she alone?” Brienne asked, not wanting to say his name and ask directly.
“Qyburn was with her. The Mountain was already killed by Sandor. Qyburn was also taken into custody.” Sansa could see the question in Brienne’s eyes. She still remembered the morning she found Brienne after Jaime had left her. She was outside in her dressing gown, perched on a rock, a hand over her mouth, the other wrapped around herself, as if keeping her together. Podrick saw her first, during his patrol and brought Sansa to her at the break of dawn. Brienne’s eyes were vacant and puffy from crying as she stared into the ground before her. It was the one time Sansa had ever seen Brienne so vulnerable; only after pouring her heart out to Sansa did she build that wall back up and hide behind her rough exterior once again.
“Jaime wasn’t with her,” Sansa answered the unspoken question, “Daenerys’s men captured him before he could make it into King’s Landing. It was there that Tyrion was able to talk some sense into him, though just to be sure they kept him imprisoned there until the siege was over. After that, during the trials, Daenerys decided to exile him from the Six Kingdoms, for his attempt to protect Cersei. He didn’t say much to defend himself, just accepted the sentence.”
Brienne heard all the words Sansa said, but it was difficult to process. He didn’t make it to Cersei? Did Tyrion change his mind? Why did he still need to be imprisoned if he was no longer trying to save her?
When he left, Brienne tried to make peace with the fact that that was the last interaction she’d have with him. That all of her questions would remain unanswered. But now…
“And what of his status in the North?” Brienne’s voice was quiet.
“I wanted to wait to hold his trial once we came back here. Obviously there’s much to consider. If we don’t allow him to remain in the North he would either have to find means to live North of the Wall or in Essos. And if he does stay here…” Sansa looked down at her clasped hands, “Well, I wanted your input. I don’t want you to end up hurt, Brienne. After everything, I would not bat an eye at exiling him. However, I know that Tyrion and perhaps even you still care for him.” She paused, “What he did to you was terrible, but I also know that you wouldn’t judge him simply on that action alone. You can think on it as long as you’d like, but let me know how you feel, and I’ll do what I can for you.”
Sansa put a comforting hand on Brienne’s arm, and Brienne allowed it. The two were closer now than they ever had been. It had gone beyond Brienne’s oath to protect Sansa; the two were now friends, near family.
Brienne nodded, squeezing Sansa’s hand with her own for a moment before letting go. “I’ll think about it.” Brienne looked away, desperate for a moment alone with her thoughts. “If that’s all, my queen.”
“When it’s just us, I’m just Sansa,” Sansa smiled. “But of course, come find me later today. Perhaps we can have dinner in my quarters again.”
Brienne allowed herself to smile slightly. That had become something of a tradition between the Battle of Winterfell and Sansa’s travels to King’s Landing. The two, and occasionally Arya or Podrick, would dine together in peace and quiet.
“It would be a pleasure, Sansa.” Brienne replied. She turned and walked out, unsure of where she was going. She ended up in the godswood, at the weirwood tree. She had grown up in the faith of the Seven, though she heard of the Old Gods during her time in Winterfell. She didn’t necessarily know what to believe anymore, but lately she found solace in the quiet of the forest. It was comforting, and a place where no one would be able to see if a tear slipped from her eyes, except for the equally sad eyes of the weirwood.
The godswood was still disrupted from the Battle of Winterfell; Brienne knew this was where the Night King was killed. While that kept others from going back, Brienne wasn’t disturbed; it was a reminder that humanity triumphed that night.
But look what’s happened since… Brienne’s mind started to spiral around her. She kept as busy as she could since that night, and the duties Sansa had left her with had certainly helped. But there were also those nights in her rooms, when she’d wake up from a nightmare and reach out, half-expecting Jaime to be there, though they had been apart almost as long as they had spent together. It was those moments that broke her.
What was she to do? Should she advise Sansa to let him stay? While there was the part of her that wanted to see him and touch him and believe he was back, the logical part knew that he wasn’t here by choice, he wasn’t back for her. Brienne knew that for his efforts in the Battle of Winterfell, Jaime should be allowed to stay. She only hoped that her presence was not required at his trial, and that she wouldn’t have to face him.
“Ser Brienne,” a familiar voice called from behind her.
Brienne stood from her place at the base of the weirwood and turned around, already responding, “Lord Tyrion.” his eyes were sad and questioning. The time they had spent together had always been in the presence of Jaime, and his absence was quite clear now. Brienne forced a small smile, “Congratulations, the Queen told me of your engagement.”
Tyrion smile was genuine, though it didn’t reach his eyes, “Thank you. I’m not sure everyone will be as approving of it in the North.”
“I’m sure they will in time. You two will be quite the pair.”
Tyrion looked down, “I must confess I followed you here. I wanted to speak to you regarding-“ he paused and sighed. “You see, there’s more to the story than what you heard from Sansa.”