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Hyle Hunt had never liked babies. He did not recall ever holding his own child; he did not even know what age she must be now. Six or seven, perhaps. And yet – sometimes when he watched Brienne beaming down at little baby Galladon, he felt something tugging at his heart.
At least, he did until Jaime Lannister plonked the baby into Hyle’s arms and said, “We’ll be back at sundown.”
Startled, Hyle held the baby at arms’ length, lest it decided to vomit on him. “Excuse me?”
Jaime smiled at him. “Brienne and I are going riding. He’s all yours until we return.”
The Kingslayer had an annoying tendency to treat Hyle more like a page than a household knight, but this was extreme, even for him. “I am not a nursemaid, my lord.”
Brienne appeared then, hovering worriedly behind her husband, eyes fixed on the baby in Hyle’s arms. “Septa Maryse is ill,” she told Hyle. “But surely there’s somebody else… one of the maids perhaps, or the kitchen girls…” She turned to Jaime. “Or mayhaps we just shouldn’t go.”
“Of course we should,” said the Kingslayer. “You haven’t spent more than an hour away from the child since he was born. And you must have told me fifty times how much you miss riding. You need a rest.”
Brienne set her jaw. “A rest from being a mother?”
“Galladon will be fine.” Jaime fixed Hyle with a glare that told him not to protest. “We’ll only be gone a few hours. Surely even Hunt can manage to look after a babe for that long.”
“I’m still here,” said Hyle. Jaime ignored him.
Brienne was still chewing her lip, unconvinced. “Mayhaps Pod could—"
“Pod?” Now Hyle was offended. “Pod is still a child himself, and you think he can mind a babe better than I can? I have one of my own, you know.”
“Who you haven’t seen since she was born,” Brienne shot back. “That doesn’t exactly help your case.”
“That’s not my fault. I told you, I tried, but her mother threw a kettle at me.”
Hyle looked down at the baby in his arms. Galladon was looking placidly up at him with his big blue eyes, looking as peaceful as any babe Hyle had ever seen. Hyle felt a sudden rush of confidence.
“Of course I can look after him,” he told Brienne. “Worry not, my lady.”
The Kingslayer gave Brienne an encouraging smile. “See?”
There was a long pause. Finally, Brienne gave a reluctant nod, still staring at Galladon. “Be sure to feed him when he gets hungry,” she said. “He can have milk from the bottle and some bread soaked in water. Get the kitchen girls to help you if you’re not sure.”
Hyle nodded, and Jaime took Brienne’s arm and steered her gently towards the stables.
“Wait,” said Hyle suddenly. “How will I know when he’s hungry?”
It was too late. They were already out of earshot.
Galladon watched his parents’ departure with calm blue eyes. As soon as they disappeared from view, he began to wail.
“Fuck,” said Hyle.
The wailing continued for most of the day.
After the first half hour, which was mostly spent walking around fruitlessly with Galladon in his arms in the vain hope that it would calm him, Hyle went to the kitchens, where bread and milk and the cooing of the kitchen girls distracted Galladon for a few blessed moments.
“You look good with a babe, Ser Hyle,” said the prettiest one, Rhea, which improved Hyle’s mood immensely. But then Tara (the second prettiest) had to spoil it by saying, “He’s such a beautiful babe, isn’t he? You can tell he’ll grow up to look just like his father.”
“Personally, I think the Kingslayer is just average,” said Hyle.
Galladon repaid him for this slight against his father by promptly vomiting his bread and milk all over Hyle’s tunic, which the girls found hilarious.
“You forgot to burp him,” said Rhea.
“What in the seven hells does that mean?” Hyle demanded.
Galladon began to wail again. Inwardly, Hyle cursed Jaime, then Brienne, then himself for agreeing to do this thrice-damned task.
“Bless his little heart, he misses his mama,” said the third prettiest kitchen girl, Jeyne, reaching out to stroke Galladon’s chubby cheek with her finger. “Is it any wonder? Lady Brienne is never away from him.”
“Well, there’s nothing I can do about that,” said Hyle irritably. He thrust the baby at her. “Hold him for a moment while I clean his sick off my tunic, will you?”
Jeyne held Galladon up and cooed at him. Galladon stopped crying briefly to stare at her, and for one shining moment Hyle thought he’d found the solution. He was trying to think of the best way to ask Jeyne to take over nursemaid duties for the rest of the day when Galladon’s wailing resumed.
“Oh, for the love of the Mother,” Hyle snapped. He finished swiping at his tunic with a wet cloth and took Galladon from Jeyne, who was looking less enamoured with the babe than she had a few moments ago.
“Mayhaps he’s tired,” suggested Tara. “You could put him down for a nap.”
“A nap.” Hyle brightened; that did sound appealing. He looked down at the baby. “What do you think, little lion?”
Galladon only wailed louder. Hyle winced, holding him a little further away. “Hear me roar, indeed. All right.” He balanced Galladon on his hip, feeling absurdly like a harried peasant woman. “Off to the nursery we go.”
“How do you think he’s doing?” Brienne asked anxiously.
They’d had a pleasant hour’s ride, and were now sitting against a tree by Brienne’s favourite waterfall, Brienne half in Jaime’s lap where he’d pulled her despite her protestations that she looked ridiculous. The water sparkled in the summer sun, dragonflies flitted in the long grass by the water, and most beautiful of all was Jaime – warm and solid and sweet-smelling behind her, his hand tracing circles on her thigh. It was an idyllic scene; like something from a dream, or a song.
And yet all Brienne could think about was Galladon, and Hyle, and the thousand horrific scenarios that might be happening back at Evenfall.
Jaime’s theatrical sigh blew at her hair and made it flutter. “Wench,” he said, tapping sternly on her thigh, “I grant you that Hyle Hunt is not the most intelligent of men. If anything, he’s one of the stupidest I’ve met. He’s also selfish, arrogant, not particularly honourable—"
“Is this meant to soothe me?”
“Let me finish. However, you would not have made him a knight of our household if you didn’t trust him. And if you can trust him to defend Evenfall, then surely you can trust him to look after a baby for a few short hours. Especially when he has everything he needs within reach, and an entire staff to help him if he wishes it.” He craned his neck to meet her eye, raising his eyebrows at her until she reluctantly nodded.
“If you say so,” she said.
Jaime kissed her cheek, his tone gentling. “Galladon has six moons now, my love. You’ve been the most devoted mother any child could ask for, but he’s big enough now to be away from you for a few hours. Just a few hours. I swear it.”
Finally, she felt herself relax just a little, some of the tension leaving her shoulders. She turned her face to smile at him. “Well, if you swear it...” she said, and kissed him.
“I do.” Jaime’s tone turned mischievous, his hand creeping beneath her tunic to brush at the bare skin of her hip. “Now, stop thinking about Hyle Hunt and concentrate on me for a little while.”
Galladon was still screaming when they reached the nursery.
It was a pretty room, the walls and ceiling covered with tapestries of dark blue silk embroidered with stars. Hyle lowered Galladon down into the crib, on top of the elaborate quilt that had been a gift from Lady Sansa. A mobile of bears and lions hung overhead, and Hyle prodded it with his finger to make them dance, hoping that would distract Galladon. It did not.
Hyle sighed. The child’s screaming was beginning to make his head ache. He was not sure how much more of it he could take.
Sometimes Brienne sang to the child, he knew. She had a surprisingly good voice, clear and sweet. Hyle most certainly did not, but he was growing desperate, so he burst into The Bear and the Maiden Fair. That only seemed to make Galladon cry louder.
“All right, all right,” Hyle groaned. “That’s not much of a lullaby, I know. I’ll try something slower.” He racked his brains; lullabies were not his usual kind of song. He usually only had cause to sing the bawdy ones. Eventually he settled on Jenny of Oldstones, but Galladon did not seem to like that either.
“Fine,” he said, running a hand over his face as Galladon continued to wail. “Fine! Gods, are your lungs not tired?” He picked Galladon up again and wandered aimlessly around the room. Eventually he settled in the rocking chair in the corner, feeling like an old woman. Babies liked to be rocked, didn’t they?
They rocked gently for a little while. Galladon was crying more quietly now, the wailing receding to a sullen sniffle, but he was still evidently very unhappy. Hyle had a sudden vision of the Kingslayer’s return, his smug amusement at finding them like this. Taking his crying son from Hyle, watching his sobbing instantly cease. It’s all right, papa’s back. You don’t like Ser Hyle very much, do you? Well, most people don't. Brienne beside him, fretting. Look, he’s miserable. I told you we shouldn’t have left him with Hyle…
Suddenly he was gripped with a fierce resolve. No, they could not find Galladon like this. They must find him asleep, or at least quiet. Then Hyle could be the smug one, handing their peaceful baby back to them. See? No trouble at all…
He thought hard. There must be something. The rocking seemed to be helping slightly, but it wasn’t enough. What he had not tried?
“How about a story?” he asked at last. “Do you like stories? Your mother does; tales of knightly valour. I gave her a book of them once.” That memory brought guilt, so he forced it from his mind. “Well, here’s a good story. The story of your parents. I’m sure they’ll tell you it themselves one day, but the Ki – your father won’t tell it true, he’ll give you a biased version. He’ll probably leave me out entirely. As for your mother, she’ll keep saying you’re too young to hear it. She’ll wait until you’re six and ten, and by then you won’t care to listen any more. Well, I’ll tell you the whole tale, the true tale – the part I know, at least.”
He looked down at Galladon. Was it his imagination, or had he quietened a little? His watery eyes were fixed on Hyle, as though he was listening.
Encouraged, Hyle began. “Once upon a time, there was a maid from the isle of Tarth. She was as tall as a tree and strong as an aurochs, with a freckly face and eyes as blue as sapphires. She was her father’s only heir, but no man would marry her because she was so… er, tall. So she persuaded her father to let her learn to fight, so that she could become a knight instead. When she was good enough, she went to Storm’s End to serve a handsome lord named Renly, with whom she had fallen in love.”
He paused, a sudden silence ringing in his ears. It took a moment for him to realise the cause. Galladon had stopped crying.
Hyle stared at the baby in wonder, but it seemed he had paused in his tale for too long. Galladon screwed up his little face again.
“Wait, wait!” Hyle said hurriedly. “Don’t cry, gods, don’t cry. I’ll keep going. So the Maid of Tarth, she spent two years at Storm’s End until – er, some political things happened, I won’t bore you with them, and Lord Renly declared himself king. But there was already a king on the throne, and others wanted the crown too, so Renly had to go to war, and the Maid of Tarth went with him. They had a camp at Bitterbridge, and that was where the Maid of Tarth met a very handsome and charming knight named Hyle Hunt.”
The baby gave him a look that Hyle might have called sceptical, had he not known better. He carried on regardless.
“Ser Hyle… tried to woo the Maid of Tarth, but for some reason, she failed to see his charms. Stop looking at me like that. Then Renly was killed, despite the Maid’s best efforts to protect him, and she was wrongfully blamed for his death, so she ran away, aided by a noble lady named Catelyn Stark. Lady Catelyn’s daughters were in King’s Landing…” Hyle paused, wondering how best to explain all this to a baby. “Oh, never mind. The important thing is, she gave the Maid a quest. She had to escort a dangerous prisoner known as the Ki – Jaime Lannister to King’s Landing unharmed, and in return she would get Lady Catelyn’s daughters back.”
Galladon looked as though he were listening solemnly. Most importantly, he was quiet, so Hyle continued. “Ser Jaime Lannister is your father, as I’m sure you know. Or do you? You’re a baby. Anyway, I wasn’t there for this part, so I don’t know all the details, but I’m sure the Maid and Ser Jaime hated each other at first. Ser Jaime was known throughout the realm for being wicked and dishonourable, while the Maid of Tarth was the most honourable knight in all Westeros. Ser Jaime was also known for being very handsome, but as I’ve said in the past, I personally don’t see it. That’s just my opinion.
Again, I don’t know all the details, but at some point on their journey, the two were captured by outlaws, and Ser Jaime lost his hand protecting the Maid from being hurt. While he recovered, the Maid cared for him and kept him alive, and the two grew to trust each other. The outlaws brought them to Harrenhal, where Lord Bolton let Ser Jaime go, but kept the Maid. He put her in a pit with a bear, with only a tourney sword to protect herself, while all his men looked on and laughed. Then suddenly—” Hyle grimaced. It left a bad taste in his mouth to recount the Kingslayer’s noble rescue of Brienne, but it was the truth, he supposed. “Then suddenly, Ser Jaime came back. He jumped into the pit and got between the Maid and the bear, and one of his allies shot the bear with a crossbow. A very famous moment. Much sung about. Blah, blah, blah.”
He looked down at Galladon again, and was surprised to see the baby looked rapt, staring up at Hyle with wide blue eyes. One of his little hands was waving about, and some instinct made Hyle reach for it. Galladon wrapped his chubby fist around Hyle’s thumb.
Surprised and oddly touched, Hyle cleared his throat.
“Yes. Ah. Where was I? Oh, yes. After the bear incident, the Maid and Ser Jaime returned to King’s Landing, and at this point it pains to me to say that the Maid may have already started to fall in love with him. Then Ser Jaime gave her a priceless sword of Valyrian steel, unrivalled in all the realm. Lady Catelyn’s daughters had disappeared, but Ser Jaime gave the Maid a quest – to take the sword and find Lady Sansa, and get her somewhere safe.
It was a very dangerous quest; some might say stupidly so. In fact, I will say it. It was a stupid quest. But the important thing is that along the way, the Maid reunited with Ser Hyle, and was once again so taken with his good looks, courage and charm that she allowed him to accompany her on her quest, along with her squire, a brave young lad named Podrick Payne. However, when Ser Hyle proposed marriage to her, she refused him, for some reason.
Some bad things befell them then, and the Maid was gravely injured. A bad bite on her cheek, from an evil man with sharp teeth. The band was captured, and taken to a strange woman named Lady Stoneheart, who turned out to be the dead Lady Catelyn – er – reanimated.”
He frowned. Was this too gruesome for a baby’s ears? Then he chided himself. He is only six moons old, he doesn’t understand a word I am saying. “Ser Hyle fought very bravely, of course, bravely enough for ten men, but they were outnumbered, and it was no use. Lady Catelyn – Lady Stoneheart -- asked the Maid to kill Ser Jaime with the sword he had given her. She refused, and so Stoneheart ordered her killed, along with Podrick and Ser Hyle.” He left out his own offers to kill the Kingslayer. “But at the last moment, the Maid changed her mind. She could not bear to watch her young squire die – or the handsome, noble Hyle, of course. She asked for the sword instead, and went out to seek Ser Jaime.
She found him at Pennytree, and they formed a plan. She led him back to Stoneheart’s camp, but instead of killing him, she turned and plunged her sword through Stoneheart’s ribs instead, and she and her companions fled.”
He paused for breath. Galladon was still watching him intently, but his eyelids had begun to droop, as if he were falling asleep. Hyle's breath caught. Please. Gods, please.
“Having escaped Stoneheart," he continued, more quietly, "the four went on to Quiet Isle so that the Maid could recover from her injuries. While they were there, Ser Hyle made another offer of marriage, but some madness made her refuse him a second time, and she accepted Ser Jaime’s offer instead.”
Hyle sighed heavily at the memory, unable to fully shake the bitterness it brought with it. “They had a wedding on the Isle, and a bigger one later, on Tarth, when the war was finally over. But despite the fact that Ser Hyle clearly would have been the better choice, none could deny that your parents truly loved each other. They were an odd couple, to be sure – the Kingslayer was much older and far better-looking, and not nearly as moral and honourable as the Maid of Tarth – but some strange force pulled them together. They lived for each other, and would have died for each other, too.”
He looked down at Galladon, his heart nearly bursting with joy when he saw that he finally, finally appeared to be sleeping. And the tale was not near finished -- he had not even gotten to their journey to the Vale, or the Long Night. That would have to wait. “And more devoted parents you could not have wished for,” he concluded, voice dropping to a whisper.
The sound of clapping made him jump. He turned, startled, to the doorway to see a grinning Jaime Lannister. Brienne was behind him, her smile hidden behind her hand.
Hyle put a hand to his heart. “How long have you two been standing there?” he hissed, simultaneously annoyed and mortified. “And stop clapping, damn you, he’s finally asleep. I mean, he’s been asleep for hours.”
“Not long,” said Jaime, smirking. “Since about halfway through your tale, I would imagine. We would have interrupted, but we were enjoying it.”
Brienne rested her head on her husband’s shoulder. “That was very sweet, Hyle,” she said, still smiling.
Scowling, Hyle rose from the rocking chair and carried the sleeping Galladon to the crib as carefully as he could. “Yes, well,” he said grumpily. “It put him to sleep, at least. How was your little excursion?”
Brienne went pink, which told him all he needed to know. Jaime grinned at her. “Thoroughly enjoyable, wasn’t it, sweetling?”
“I’m glad to hear it,” said Hyle, unwilling to hear more. “Well, as you can see, you were wrong to doubt me, my lady. I had no trouble with Galladon, none at all. He was as peaceful and quiet as a little baby lamb.”
Brienne visibly relaxed, her shoulders sagging. “Oh, that’s wonderful, Ser Hyle. I’m sorry I doubted you, it’s only that I was nervous about leaving him for the first time. I’m sure you can understand.”
Hyle gave her a magnaminous smile. “Of course, my lady. Think nothing of it.”
The Kingslayer put an arm around his wife. “There you go, Brienne," he said cheerily. "Since Ser Hyle has proved himself so well, we must leave Galladon with him more often.”
Hyle’s smile dropped. “Wait, now. Do not speak so hastily, my lord. Septa Maryse will be recovered soon, I'm sure, and there is no need—”
But they were already walking out of the room. Hyle’s heart sank.
“How about every sennight?” Hyle heard the Kingslayer say, and then they were gone.