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"Ser Hyle, could you pass me the wine?”
Brienne’s voice was a little slurred, her cheeks flushed beneath her freckles. Hyle hesitated before passing the jug down to her. “I wouldn’t drink much more if I were you, my lady,” he warned her, voice low so that Lord Eldon Estermont would not hear. Her father’s old friend had come to visit for the first time since Brienne had become Evenstar, and they were holding a small feast in his honour.
Brienne looked indignant as she took the wine and poured it, some of it sloshing over the side of her cup. “I am not drunk, Ser Hyle,” she proclaimed, a little more loudly than she had probably intended. Luckily, Lord Estermont was speaking to one of the knights of Tarth and did not appear to notice.
Hyle had to smile. “You are a little.”
He did not blame her. It was not quite her first time hosting a feast – there’d been a large one when she became the Evenstar and an even larger one for her wedding – but it was her first time hosting one alone. The Kingslayer had been summoned to the capital by his brother for some reason or other and was not due back for a few days. Hyle was rather enjoying his absence, but Brienne had not been apart from her husband since they’d been married and it was clear she sorely missed him. That, combined with the nerves she obviously felt at having to entertain one of her father’s oldest friends by herself, was clearly the reason for the uncharacteristic amount of wine she was consuming.
When Brienne accidentally knocked over her cup, however, he decided it was time to intervene. “I think you’d best retire, my lady,” he said to her under his breath as Pia came hurrying over to clean up the spill.
Cheeks pink from wine and embarrassment, Brienne finally seemed to agree. “Lord Eldon, forgive me, I am very tired,” she announced, standing up only a little unsteadily. “If you don’t mind, I think I will bo to ged. I mean—”
Lord Eldon gave her a gracious smile. He was a sharp old man, but it was clear he’d known Brienne since she was a babe, and had a fondness for her. “Of course, Lady Brienne,” he said. “Thank you for the feast. You’ve done very well.”
Brienne gave him a shy smile and an awkward curtsey, and Hyle took her arm to escort her from the hall.
“Oh, gods,” she murmured to him as she walked away. “You were right, I’m very drunk. Do you think he noticed?”
“Not at all,” Hyle lied. “Shall we go outside so you can get some fresh air?”
Brienne nodded, and they went out to the gardens. The moon was bright and full, a white disc against a black sky, the sea below them turned silver in its light. The beauty of Tarth took him by surprise, as it somehow always did.
Brienne stumbled a little as she walked, clutching his arm. Now that she was away from the feast and no longer pretending to be sober, he could see that she was drunker than he’d realised. She sighed loudly.
“He did notice,” she said mournfully. “My first time hosting a feast as Evenstar, without Jaime, and I was drunk. A drunken mess. How embarrassing.” Hyle saw with alarm that her eyes had suddenly filled with tears. “What must Lord Eldon think of me?”
"Yes, I almost mistook you for Robert Baratheon," said Hyle. His sarcasm was lost on Brienne; she turned horrified eyes on him. "I am japing."
But her chin was trembling, so in an awkward attempt to be comforting, he patted her arm. Brienne had never cried in front of him before; even after the Stoneheart incident, near-fatally injured and the lowest he’d ever seen her, she had reserved her tears for Jaime. “You did very well, Brienne," he said, softening his tone. "It was a good feast. Everyone enjoyed themselves.”
He could tell Brienne did not believe him. “It would have been better if Jaime were here,” she said. “He’s good with people. He impresses them, even when they don’t like him. He has a…” She waved her free arm, trying to think of the right word.
“A presence?” Hyle suggested reluctantly. It was true, much as he hated to admit it.
She lit up. “Yes! A presence.” She sighed, a dreamy smile on her face at the thought of her husband. “He walks into a room and everyone just looks at him, because he’s just so… he’s just so…”
“Arrogant?” suggested Hyle. “Smug?”
Brienne hit him on the stomach, probably harder than she’d meant to, because the wind was knocked out of him for a moment. “No!” she said indignantly. “It’s because he’s so beautiful, and charming, and commanding, and…” To his dismay, her eyes filled with tears again. “I miss him.”
They reached a bench, and Hyle sighed, resigned. “All right, my lady. Sit down and talk to me about your lord husband, if it will make you feel better.”
Brienne did not telling twice. They sat down on opposite ends of the bench, and Brienne continued to drunkenly rhapsodise about Jaime Lannister as if he had died heroically in battle and not just gone to King’s Landing for a sennight. “There are no other men like him,” she declared. “None at all. He is the bravest, strongest, cleverest, wittiest, tallest…”
“Tallest?” Hyle couldn’t help interjecting, trying to fight a smile.
“Tallest,” Brienne continued, hardly noticing him, “most handsome, most talented, best with a sword, best on the lists—”
“Best on the lists? It’s been years since he was last in a tourney.”
Brienne scowled at him. “Well, he was. And he could be again, if he cared enough to enter.” She went on with her list. “And he’s the most noble, most honourable, nicest-smelling… most beautiful eyes, softest hair...”
“Funny,” Hyle interrupted again, unable to listen any longer. “There must be two Jaime Lannisters, because the one I know fits none of those descriptions.”
Even drunk, Brienne’s glare was fierce. “You don’t know him!” she said angrily. “You – you only see what you want to see. Just like everyone else. You misunderstand him, you call him Kingslayer—”
“Brienne.” Hyle stifled another laugh and tried to soften his tone. He reached out to touch her arm, a placating gesture. “I was only jesting. Again. Forgive me. Your husband and I… well, we may never be the best of friends, but he is an honourable man. I know that.”
Brienne relaxed. “Yes,” she agreed. “The most honourable.” Then she turned maudlin again. “But he’s not here.”
“He has only been gone for five days, my lady. And he’ll be returning very soon.”
“I know.” Brienne pulled her long legs onto the bench and hugged her knees in a most unladylike fashion, resting her chin on top of them. Her expression was almost comically sad, like a mummer’s impression of a heartbroken maid. “I just miss him. Do you know how it feels, Ser Hyle? When you love someone so much you wish never to be parted from them.”
Hyle’s smile faded, a sudden coldness coming over him that had nothing to do with the night air. “No,” he admitted shortly, looking away from her to stare out at the dark sea. “I don’t know.”
Did he even want to know? He had never thought he did, always viewing marriage as a practicality more than anything else; but there were times when he did envy whatever it was Brienne and Jaime had, and never more strongly than he did now.
Brienne’s expression changed. “Oh, Hyle,” she said, big blue eyes full of pity. “I am sorry.” Clumsily, she reached out to touch his knee, something sober Brienne would never do. “I wish you could feel the way I do when I’m with Jaime. I wish everyone could. But don’t worry, we’ll find you someone. You would be a worthy husband, I am sure, if you had a wife you truly loved.”
His chest tightened at her pure, unthinking kindness. I do not deserve this, he wanted to tell her, not from you. He would not have been a worthy husband to her had she accepted his proposal, he was certain. He would have been unfaithful, uncaring, would never have made her feel the happiness she described now. For the first time, he was glad she had rejected him.
“That’s very kind of you, my lady,” he said, forcing a smile. “But you need not concern yourself with me. The truth is that I haven’t put much effort into finding a wife, but mayhaps I should.”
“Effort.” Brienne nodded. “That’s what you need. You didn’t put much effort in when you proposed to me. You just said—”
“I know what I said,” Hyle interrupted, unwilling to hear it again. “You deserved better than me, my lady. I never thought better would turn out to be the Kingslayer, but in truth I’m glad you found him.”
He smiled at her, and she smiled back. He hoped she would not start to cry again.
Luckily, she kept her composure this time. “Thank you, Ser Hyle,” she said softly. “It is nice to hear you say that.”
Just then, the sound of footsteps behind them made them both turn.
“Well, wife,” Jaime Lannister said with a lazy grin, his golden hair turned silver in the light of the moon. “What are you doing out here with Hyle Hunt?”
Brienne’s shriek almost split Hyle’s ears. “Jaime!” She jumped off the bench and ran to her husband, who lifted her off her feet and spun her around as if she weighed nothing. Perhaps he is the strongest after all, Hyle thought ironically.
“I wouldn’t spin her too much,” Hyle advised from the bench. “She’s had a little too much to drink.”
Jaime laughed as he set Brienne back on her feet. “Drowning your sorrows, wench?”
Brienne blushed. “I missed you,” she said, clinging to him. “And Lord Estermont was here, and I was so nervous. I made a fool of myself.”
“No, she didn’t,” said Hyle. “She did very well. Lord Eldon said so himself. Why are you back so early, my lord?”
Jaime shrugged. “It turned out Tyrion’s urgent business wasn’t so urgent, and I missed my wife.” He gave Brienne a kiss. “Mmm,” he said teasingly. “Arbor Gold.”
Hyle stood. “I’ll take that as my cue to leave,” he said, and gave them an exaggerated bow. “Goodnight, my lady. My lord.”
Brienne had her arms wrapped around Jaime again, her cheek pressed to his chest, but she lifted one arm to wave at Hyle. “Goodnight, Ser Hyle,” she said happily. “Thank you for looking after me tonight.”
He smiled. “You’re very welcome, my lady.”
“I’m glad you’re here with us.”
Despite himself, Hyle felt his spirits rise again, a warm feeling in his chest. I am glad too, Brienne, he thought as he walked away. Most of the time.
“And I will find you a wife!” Brienne called after him, much to Jaime’s amusement. “I swear it!”