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Chapter Text

Brienne is going to be sick.

Like, physically sick.

It isn't because she is ill, but because she is about to meet Jaime, the man she has been in love with for a whole year but has never seen in person.

Wait... back up.

It isn't the fact that she is going to meet Jaime that is making her feel ill, but the fact she is going to meet Jaime on TV, while Oberyn Martell and Ellaria Sand narrate every small detail of their unorthodox relationship, with the whole world watching to laugh and jeer at them.

And it is all Sansa and Margaery's fault.

Wait... back up again.

It had all begun three weeks ago when Brienne had returned from her shift at the bookstore to find Sansa and Margaery huddled together in the lounge of their dingy flat on the wrong side of Winter Town, whispering to each other as if they are in the middle of a conspiracy. Although she has a reputation for being trusting and naive, Brienne isn't stupid, and she knows when something is wrong with her friends.

Sansa is fiddling with the hem of her skirt and Margaery is looking at anything other than Brienne's face, clearly hoping and praying that if she pretends the problem doesn't exist it will go away as if it was never there in the first place. Their silence makes Brienne frown.

"Just tell me," she says forcefully, cutting the preamble and getting to the heart of the issue. "Whatever it is, I'm sure I will understand. A problem shared is a problem halved."

It is Margaery that is first to break. Glancing at Sansa, who somehow manages to look pristinely pretty even though she is half drowning in her guilt, she then turns back to Brienne with a roiling storm in her eyes.

"We emailed that TV show," she says in a rush. "We emailed that TV show... about Jaime."

It feels as if she has been shot through with ice straight from the Wall. Up until very recently, Jaime had been her little secret that Brienne has kept close to her chest. She had only told Sansa and Margaery about him when it had moved from something fun into something more serious, when she couldn't keep the wonderful, painful, touching, tender truth of him locked up tight in her heart anymore. She had expected them to be pleased for her, offer congratulations for finally, finally finding something with someone who wasn't an arse like Hyle or a psycho like Connington. Instead, they had just told her to be on her guard - it was hella suspicious if a man didn't want to video chat after two weeks of messaging, and it was downright weird if he refused to do so after a year.

Margaery's revelation therefore makes Brienne's hackles rise.

"That TV show?" she asks, a knot of fear embedded in her belly. "What TV show?"

Floundering with the prospect of giving Brienne more information when she already feels immensely guilty, Margaery turns to Sansa and looks at her imploringly, which is only met with a roll of the eyes. Before answering, Sansa takes a deep breath. Apparently, she needs to steady herself because of the weight of her answer.

"Fakers. With Oberyn Martell and Ellaria Sand."

A distant ring of recognition hits Brienne.

"You know," adds Margaery, "the one where they expose catfishes."

At her slightly upbeat tone, Sansa jabs Margaery in the ribs - clearly, they had planned not to be so blunt about things when dropping this particular little bombshell - but it does little to quell Brienne's anger. Jaime is hers; she doesn't want him shared around on national TV by people who don't know what is going on, especially if it is because some TV producers want to rip him apart.

Because whatever is going on with Jaime is complicated.

It must be complicated.

Or he would have found time to video chat in the last year.

SerArthurDayne:         Hey! I hope you don't mind me messaging, but I just saw on the thread about antique Valyrian swords that you have access to Oathkeeper? If so... that is amazing! How did you manage that?

OathkeeperFanGirl:    My dad works at Evenfall Museum on Tarth. Its greatest treasure is Oathkeeper, and he has occasionally let me in to handle it (supervised by him, of course!)

SerArthurDayne:         That is incredible!  My family have Widow's Wail in their private collection, but like *hell* I have ever been able to see it. My father thinks I should be concentrating on more important things than my "history hobby".

OathkeeperFanGirl:    He doesn't sound very supportive.

SerArthurDayne:         He's not.

SerArthurDayne:         But let's not talk about him. Let's talk about Oathkeeper. What is it like to hold the greatest sword from the age of the Second Long Night?

Brienne stares at Margaery then Sansa and then Margaery again, trying to make sense of what they have just admitted to her.

"You emailed Fakers?" she stammers. "Why?"

Given her more serious demeanour, Sansa once again takes over the explanation, although she does not look particularly happy to be doing so. "The other day, you told Margaery and I that you were in love with Jaime Lannister, Brienne. Jaime Lannister! You know, the most famous man in the whole Seven Kingdoms - son of Tywin, brother of Tyrion, and King's Landing's number one bachelor. He's dated actresses, models, movie stars... are you seriously expecting me to believe that you met him on a forum for history enthusiasts and are now talking about getting engaged, even though you've only ever talked to him on the phone and have never video chatted?"

"His video camera is broken," begins Brienne. "He told me he's going to fix it, and–"

Margaery rolls her eyes. "B, that's not the problem. The problem is that you think you are talking to the real Jaime Lannister, when all evidence points to the fact that you are talking to someone else entirely."

Brienne frowns. She does not like how distrusting her friends are of the truth, but she doesn't want to get angry with them, so finds a way to say it delicately. "I can't be. Jaime has told me things about himself that only the real Jaime would know, that--"

"You'd think," interrupts Margaery, "but the truth is you could just be talking to a big Jaime fan who follows his every movement. It has happened on Fakers before. There was that episode where that guy thought he was talking to Daenerys Targaryen - you know, the rapper - but, in fact, he was talking to this dude who lived in his mum's basement in Rosby who was afraid to come out." Margaery's expression turned cynical. "So, I know that you most probably have not been talking to the Jaime Lannister, but some guy who thinks he'll do better by hiding behind the most handsome man in Westeros' photo."

"Or some girl," suggests Sansa.

Brienne furrows her brows disbelievingly. "I don't think he's a woman. I've heard him speak; he doesn't sound like a woman, and he hasn't told me he identifies as anything other than a man. And anyway, why would a woman pretend to be a man to date me?"

"You've seen episodes of Fakers before," says Margaery. "There's always some brother, or cousin, or male friend they get to step in to do the voice. It is like the rules of catfishing. And don't talk yourself down. You know how well you could do if you actually were gay because of the times you've come to the club with Sansa and I. Arianne was only telling me last week that, if you did swing that way, she'd climb you like a tree."

"Margaery, you're getting off topic now," interrupts Sansa. "We are trying to warn Brienne that Jaime could be a catfish, not telling her Arianne has the hots for her!"

Ignoring Sansa's comment about Arianne, Brienne gets them strictly back on the point. "He's not a catfish!" She had not intended to sound so angry, but the fact that Sansa and Margaery can't bring themselves to trust Jaime makes her see red. "He really is Jaime Lannister. I know it. I know him. I trust him! Why can't you?"

While Sansa looks a little chastised by that question, Margaery smiles at Brienne sympathetically, like a mother might gaze at a child learning to walk. "Because we are not blinded by love, Brienne. It's that simple."

SerArthurDayne:         Will you give me your contact details, Lady Oathkeeper?

OathkeeperFanGirl:    My contact details? Why?

SerArthurDayne:         Because we've talked every day on the messaging app of this history forum for the past month, and it would be soooo much easier to communicate via RavensApp, or Weirgram, or just by texting. I could phone you. You could hear my voice. And you could send me pictures.

OathkeeperFanGirl:    I'm not sending you nudes!

SerArthurDayne:         I didn't say nudes! It's just you said you had photos of you wielding Oathkeeper. I want to see what the Blue Knight looks like 😘

"What would be the benefit of going on Fakers?" asks Brienne carefully, her gaze flicking between Sansa and Margaery. "I know Jaime is Jaime, so what would it prove to me?"

Margaery is biting her lip - Brienne knows her well enough to guess it is because she thinks her friend is being gullible and easily led, and wants to stop herself from saying it - while Sansa is wearing a more concerned expression. "It would confirm it was Jaime, wouldn't it? There would be no more secrets and lies."

"There are no secrets and lies between us," Brienne says, getting defensive. "He's told me the truth about himself and his life, and I believe him."

"Then why did you drive all the way down to The Twins to meet him that one time, only for him to blow you off at the last minute and say he wasn't coming?"

"His father needed him for some business gala in Lannisport!" squawks Brienne. Pulling her metaphorical sword from her scabbard, she feels the need to defend Jaime, even though he isn't here. "And his dad won't let him miss it for the world, and everyone knows what a tough guy Tywin Lannister is. He's a billionaire media tycoon for gods' sake."

"Yes, he is," says Margaery forcefully. "So why on earth do you think his son would get engaged to some random woman he met on a history enthusiasts forum and hasn't even seen, when he could very easily go and get his cock sucked by the supermodel or porn star of his choice on a yacht in the Narrow Sea?"

Sansa snaps her head around, outraged. "Margaery! Why do you have to be so crass?"

"Because I have a valid point. Billionaires don't use history forums to pick up chicks. They wave about their cheque books until some girl with lots of beauty and no sense agrees to hang off their arm at high profile events and give him all the sex he wants in exchange for a big pile of cash. That's just how it works. Tale as old as time."

Brienne wrinkles her nose. The first time Jaime had told her his name wasn't SerArthurDayne but Jaime Lannister, she had been sceptical too, but he had quickly softened her with his humour and his kindness and his honesty. During their long sessions that lasted late into the night, Jaime had told Brienne all about his father, his brother, and the end of his most recent relationship with his controlling ex Cersei. Having laid himself bare so easily to her over the thousands of messages they've sent each other, Brienne does not think Jaime is capable of lying to her. His honesty comes wrapped in a strange box - in brusqueness, bluntness, and occasionally brutality - but she nevertheless values it more than she had Hyle's false flattery or Connington superficial charm.

"I don't believe Jaime wants that," Brienne says, even as her voice comes out strained and tense. "He wants something real. That's what he told me."

"They all say that; it's the way they get into your pants," says Margaery.

Brienne has no response to that line of argument. Her experience of romantic relationships is very limited - one very disappointing short term ex-boyfriend and an almost fling - so she feels quite unaware of how men behave when communicating with a woman they like. But there is something about Jaime that makes her think he is being sincere, and for all Sansa and Margaery's doubts, she cannot shake it off.

Sansa gives her girlfriend another firm look, before turning back to Brienne. "So maybe you should consider it? The people at Fakers say they are interested in running your story. Maybe it would be good for you to meet the man you've been talking to for a whole year... and it may give you a chance to meet him. What do you say?"

Jaime:              Did you know the Dreadfort Museum is doing an exhibition on dragonglass weaponry?

Brienne:           No! I didn't!

Jaime:              Apparently, they've got some of Sam the Slayer's originals. You should totally check it out. You live in the North, right? I can get you some free tickets if you want.

Brienne:           You can? How?

Jaime:              LannCorp is sponsoring the exhibition. My assistant will be able to get you some if I ask him nicely.

Brienne:           That would be sooo cool! You are too kind xxx

Jaime:              No worries, B. I like to see you happy.

Brienne:           Will you come with me?

Jaime:              With you?

Brienne:           Yeah, to the exhibition! You know how much I want to see you, and this would be the perfect opportunity. We both like history and I would love to take you on a tour of the North. Although I'm originally a southron like you, I've fallen in love with the North since coming here for university, and I would be so happy to show you around. It would also be a low-pressure way for us to catch up. What do you say?

JAIME LANNISTER IS OFFLINE

Brienne only had a few days to think about it before the producers of Fakers were pressuring her to make a decision and, while she did not think that Sansa and Margaery were right to doubt Jaime, she really did want to see him in person and this slightly tawdry TV show might just offer the opportunity to do just that.

Therefore, a few weeks after her initial conversation with Sansa and Margaery, Brienne found Oberyn Martell, Ellaria Sand, and the whole bored looking crew of a TV show packing into the tiny lounge of her shared flat. While she, Margaery, and Sansa cram onto the three-seater, Oberyn and Ellaria take the armchairs.

"So," begins Oberyn, using a dramatic pause to build the tension as the cameras blink behind him. "Ellaria and I received your email asking for our help and we were really interested by your story. Tell us a little about Jaime."

Although Brienne knows Oberyn and Ellaria and everyone else are here for her, there is something about Oberyn's swishy suit and Ellaria's too perfect teeth that leave her feeling like a fish out of water, so Margaery takes over the role of chief narrator. "Sansa and I emailed you because Brienne... well, Brienne is in an online relationship with this guy called Jaime... and we thought it might just make your best episode ever."

That answer earns Margaery a scowl from Sansa, but it seems to perk up Ellaria, who leans forward, intrigued. "The best episode ever? What makes you say that?"

Margaery and Sansa turn to Brienne. She takes a deep breath before answering.

"Because the Jaime I am dating is Jaime Lannister."

The reaction is instantaneous. While Oberyn lets out a raucous belly laugh that has him clutching at his sides, Ellaria giggles girlishly covering her hand with her mouth. Several of the crew members laugh too, although they try not to make it so obvious.

Brienne doesn't understand what is so funny.

"Oh, Brienne," says Ellaria, in a high melodious swoop. "I can already tell you that you are not talking to Jaime Lannister. Claiming they are a celebrity is a sure sign of a catfish. Did you know we once had an episode where this guy thought he was dating Daenerys Targaryen and actually–?"

"Yes, I know. Margaery told me," Brienne grouses.

Surprised by her harsh tone, Ellaria turns to Oberyn, who comes at her all sweetness and light. They clearly need to keep their act as concerned friends going. "Why don't you tell us a little about how you and Jaime met, Brienne? And then Margaery and Sansa can tell us why you are suspicious?"

While Brienne had warmed to the idea of being on Fakers in the last few days, now she is faced with Oberyn and Ellaria's predatory smiles and the lens of several industrial sized cameras all doubting Jaime's veracity, she feels strangely defensive. Recently, his appearance in her life had been like spotting the Evenstar in the night's sky for the first time - it gave her a cosmic truth to cling onto, outside the usual darkness.

"Jaime and I met on a forum that discusses the Second Long Night," she begins, feeling the cringe of exposing her secret interests creeping up her spine. "I occassionally write academic papers for journals, and I was thinking of writing a piece on the Blue Knight. I was looking for some secondary reading on ancient armour, and SerArthurDayne was very helpful."

"Ser Arthur Dayne?" asks Oberyn, raising one perfectly threaded eyebrow.

"Yes. That was the name Jaime went by on the forum."

Brienne:           My article on Arthur Dayne got rejected :(

Jaime:              Oh, sweetling, I'm so sorry xx

Brienne:           It sucks.

Jaime:              I bet it does. I read that paper and it was really good, so I don't see why they would reject it.

Brienne:           Apparently, it was just "regurgitating common knowledge".

Jaime:              But you presented a new theory about his role at the Tower of Joy!

Brienne:           I know, but the peer reviewers obviously didn't like it.

Brienne:           I'm going to have a very big glass of wine to drown my sorrows.

Jaime:              I wish I was there with you to hold your hand.

Brienne:           I wish you were here to do more xxx

"What first attracted you to him on that forum?" asks Oberyn.

Brienne considers it for a moment. In her previous relationships, she had always liked the way a man would say sweet things to her - that was how she fell for Connington and Hyle's lies - but this time it had been the total opposite.

"He used to always make really controversial posts about historical figures that totally went against my reading of them," Brienne says, a fond smile shaping her lips. "Like, that Roose Bolton was a skinchanging demon, or that Aegon Targaryen was actually Aegon Targaryen and not a pretender. Lots of people used to fawn over Jaime because he was one of the mods on the board, but I used to take issue with some of his conclusions because they weren't particularly grounded in historical fact. So, after his Aegon Targaryen claim, I found myself DMing him to tell him he was wrong... and then we got chatting from there."

Ellaria grins knowingly, as if she is already one hundred percent aware of what Brienne finds attractive about Jaime. "So, you liked the challenge? And his intellectualism?"

"I suppose so, yeah," replies Brienne, blushing at the thought of their late-night conversations about the Second Long Night and the Lost City of Yeen and the articles she was working on. "He's super smart, and he never condescends or talks down to me. We are always worthy opponents when we disagree, and it makes it feel as if our whole relationship is in sharp focus. I have to keep on my toes."

As one of the cameras makes a loud zooming in sound - surely, the cameraman is trying to capture the lovesick expression on her face, so they can milk it for all its worth - Oberyn asks another question. "Is that all you like about him? His mind?"

Brienne shakes her head. "No. Although we started just talking about history, over time it got more personal, and he told me all about his life, his dad, his brother, his ex, his job. I don't think he is hugely happy where he is, and that... kinda rang bells with me. I've had some bad relationships too, and I was there to listen to him, and him the same for me."

Jaime:              Hey sweetling xx

Brienne:           Hey Jaime. Are you okay?

Jaime:              I'm alright, I suppose. Just had to deal with a lot of bullshit with my dad and the business today. I'm better now that I am talking to you xxx

Brienne:           You know how to sweet talk a girl.

Jaime:              Just you. You're the only one I want to sweet talk x

Brienne:           Can I phone you tonight?

Jaime:              Yeah, sure. Tyrion is going to come over in a bit to pick up some video games, but after that I'm free as a bird. Maybe we can watch The Kingslayer and the Wench together? I want to get your opinion on the armour in the battle scene.

Brienne:           Sounds fun. And maybe we can chat about other things afterwards x

Jaime:              Like what?

Brienne:           Like what you would do to me if we were in the same room xxx

Jaime:              👅 💦

"So, you got into personal stuff?" says Oberyn, just to confirm.

"Yes."

"And did you do more than just the personal?" asks Ellaria.

Brienne furrows her brow. "What do you mean?"

"Well, was it all history and your home life, or did what you talked about ever get more intimate?"

Feeling the judgemental eyes of her friends upon her, Brienne nevertheless feels the need to fess up. She is done with being secretive about Jaime. Although Fakers might not be the best way to achieve it, Brienne no longer wants to hide what she feels for him behind a screen, so believes honesty is the best policy.

"It got more intimate," she says, her cheeks aflame. "We sexted, we had a couple of dirty phone calls, you know... the works. I wanted to have video sex, but he said he couldn't, so I took what I could get."

Oberyn nods slowly, putting the pieces together. "So, you have spoken to him on the phone?"

"Yes," confirms Brienne. "I have quite a few ways of contacting him actually. Weirgram and his phone number and RavensApp and the forum. It is partly what convinced me he is real; all that seems too much to fake just to sext with someone over the weirnet."

Ellaria nods slowly, and Brienne sees such consideration in her eyes that she wonders if she is beginning to convince her. "You've not just been sexting though, have you?" she asks, an air of intrigue in her voice. "It's more than that."

Brienne nods. "It's more than that."

"Would you say you are in love?"

Brienne:           If you were with me right now, I'd want you naked.

Jaime:              Is that right, my lady?

Brienne:           You can call me ser. I'm the one carrying Valyrian steel.

Jaime:              Yes, ser.

Brienne:           You'd be lying on my bed without a scrap of clothes on, all relaxed and warm and ready to be used.

Jaime:              *Fuck*

Brienne:           I would tell you that you are not allowed to touch me, but I'm going to touch you.

Jaime:              How would you touch me?

Brienne:           I'd start by putting my hands on your shoulders, and feel all that strong, bunched muscle that turns me on. Then I'd run my hands down your chest, pulling at your chest hair, before I

Jaime:              Yes? What you would do then?

Jaime:              B? What would you do then? Tell me!

Jaime:              I'm so fucking hard rn.

Brienne:           Pick up your phone. I'll tell you in person, because I want to hear the sounds you make when you come.

"I've told him that I love him, yeah."

Oberyn and Ellaria glance at one another. Brienne knows enough about TV to realise they are trying to ramp up the drama, but she also wonders if she senses some genuine worry and concern there. "Has he said it back to you?" asks Oberyn.

"Yes, he's said it back to me." She fidgets awkwardly in her chair; in a strange way, she feels as if she is invading her own privacy. "He's told me he loves me, and wants to be with me, and wants to marry me."

Margaery sighs dramatically. Brienne can sense her irritation. "And you believe that, B? Even though he's refused to see you for a whole year?"

"Of course, I believe him," says Brienne, forthright. "He sent me twenty thousand dragons to buy an engagement ring."

"WHAT?"

The chorus of Margaery, Sansa, Oberyn, and Ellaria's disbelief is so loud that Brienne almost covers her ears. She can almost hear the over-the-top sound effect they will put on this moment in the edit. Even though the two groups of friends and TV presenters have only known each other for a short while, they stare at her in matching astonishment, seemingly unable to compute what she has just said.

"Twenty thousand dragons?" stammers Sansa, seemingly still struggling with this new piece of information. "You... you have twenty thousand dragons just sitting in your bank account?"

"No, I did have twenty thousand dragons sitting in my bank account. I sent him eighteen thousand back because I thought he was being flashy, then spent the rest on this lovely sapphire ring that Jaime said reminded him of my eyes."

Jaime:              I dreamed of you.

Brienne:           You did?

Jaime:              Yeah. You were wearing that blue jumper you had on in the last photo you sent me, then you got into bed with me and held me.

Brienne:           Awww, that sounds very sweet.

Jaime:              It was. You were very warm and cuddly x

Jaime:              I love you, B.

Brienne:           I love you too, Jaime. Please let me call you tomorrow.

"Here it is."

Sansa, Margaery, Oberyn, Ellaria, and the entirety of the crew are all staring at her when Brienne comes back into the room, armed with the little box containing her engagement ring. When she opens it, they all gasp, the glow of the stone reflected in their eyes. "He wanted me to have something nice, but I told him that I would not put it on until I had met him in person... until I had seen my future husband face to face."

"But what if he is not Jaime Lannister at all?" asks Margaery suddenly. Her face is contorted with shock, surprise, and horror. "What if you are just talking to some random dude on the weirnet?"

"Would a random dude have twenty thousand dragons just lying around?"

Margaery tries to come back with something, but she stalls, leaving Oberyn to swoop in with sound bites and platitudes to smooth over the situation. "Well, I am so glad you called us, Brienne. It sounds like it could really help if we unmask Jaime Lannister for you."

There is something in Oberyn's tone that Brienne doesn't like.

"There's no need to unmask Jaime. I know who he is, even if Sansa and Margaery don't believe. I have faith."

Jaime:              I miss you. I want to see you.

Brienne:           Then why didn't you come to The Twins? You could have seen me then. I waited for hours. You made me look like a fool.

Jaime:              I'd have been blinded by your light.

Brienne:           Don't try and get all poetic with me, Jaime. I'm cross. Let me be cross.

Jaime:              I love you x

Brienne:           You keep saying that.

At the end of the day, the crew of Fakers packed up and went home, with Oberyn and Ellaria promising they would do some research based on the information that Brienne had given them, and they would be back in the morning with their findings. After a round of air kisses, they were gone, and Brienne is left in the flat with Sansa and Margaery, who are still looking a bit guilty because of their treachery.

"I don't want to talk about it," says Brienne, having had quite enough of her friends' theories about who Jaime truly was. "I just want to go to sleep. I'm tired."

"That's understandable," says Margaery.

"Do you want a cup of tea before you go to bed?" asks Sansa. "Or some cake? Arya bought over a slice of her birthday cake, and--"

"No, I'm fine. I'll see you guys in the morning."

Sansa and Margaery's only answer is an awkward silence, which she thinks is fitting considering their babbling honesty during the filming of Fakers. Once the cameras had stopped rolling, they had told Oberyn and Ellaria of their worry and concern for Brienne, and how they thought she was being played by her weirnet boyfriend and should watch out for herself.

Brienne could barely identify with their fears, because she knew that she was talking to Jaime Lannister.

She had no doubt.

And Fakers would just prove her correct.

Brienne:           I've been thinking about you today. Just call me when you get this. I want to tell you how much I love you xx

Chapter Text

Brienne does not sleep that night, but instead tosses and turns in her bed, trying to think of anything other than the fact that, when the sun rose, Oberyn and Ellaria would be giving her an itemised list of everything slightly suspicious about Jaime.

Jaime. Her Jaime. Jaime with the green eyes, who sends her quotes of his favourite poems when he can't find the words to express himself. Jaime, who claims he fell in love with her all over again every single day. Jaime, who has taught her what romance is in a way that no real man ever has.

Real, she thinks, then corrects herself.

Jaime is real. He is as real as Hyle, or as Connington, or as any of those arses who had bet on her virginity; he is as real as Margaery and Sansa, who are full of doubts; and he is certainly as real as Oberyn and Ellaria, who want to make her life into a story by finding a hole in Jaime's tale and pulling and pulling at the lose threads until it had unravelled in her lap. Whereas her connections with other people have often felt stilted and strangely dull, Jaime is a vibrant and animated, even though he has only ever sent her a few photos of himself.

He is real, she tells herself, pinning her eyes shut. Because our feelings are real, even if everything else is a lie.

Yet in spite of this reassurance, Brienne cannot bring herself to accept that Jaime might be telling her lies. It is not just because she would hate for their entire relationship to be a fabrication - even though that eventuality would wound her deeply - but because she could not believe it of him. In a year of messaging and whispered conversations, Jaime had opened his heart and held it out for Brienne; bloody and bleeding, vulnerable and visceral and real. She does not sense artifice in him.

She believes him.

She wants to believe him.

She rolls over and tries to get some sleep.

It takes some time to set up the lighting and the microphones when the Fakers team arrives, so Brienne retreats to the flat's little kitchenette to make herself a cup of tea and live in the moment. As the kettle boils, she takes deep breaths to calm herself, but nothing seems to work as her heart is hammering so loud.

What are you scared of? she asks herself. You know you've been talking to the real Jaime... you know...

"How are you doing in here, B?"

Turning her head, Brienne looks just in time to see Margaery walking into the room, ducking because of the low door frame. Sansa follows immediately after and, as the door closes behind her, Brienne catches a glimpse of the TV crew setting up a laptop for Oberyn and Ellaria to work from in the living room. She hasn't seen many episodes of Fakers, but the few she has tell her the hosts will have her sit in front of their laptop as they walk her through everything they have discovered about Jaime from his online footprint.

Brienne swallows heavily; in a strange way, she feels as if she is invading Jaime's privacy.

"I'm doing fine," Brienne lies, as Margaery and Sansa settle against the counter, fixing her with identical concerned looks. "Well... as fine as I can be considering the fact my love life is going to be broadcast on national television."

"It's not quite your love life--" begins Margaery, before she is silenced by a sharp poke to her ribs by Sansa's elbow. "Hey! What was that for?"

"Of course Brienne's love life will be on the show."

"But she hasn't even met Jaime!"

A flare of anger courses through Brienne's veins. "It doesn't matter. We are in a relationship; we've said the words. I don't care that I haven't seen him. What we feel for each other... it is more than anything I've ever experienced before. It is not lesser because it has started in an unconventional way. And anyway, I'll be seeing him soon; Oberyn and Ellaria will prove Jaime is who he says he is, and then the show will fly us to King's Landing to meet him. Problem solved."

"But Brienne--"

"I don't want to hear it, Margaery," snaps Brienne, as the kettle whistles to life. "Jaime is Jaime. I won't hear anything to contrary."

Margaery clicks her tongue in irritation as Brienne turns away from her to pour her tea. Although Brienne cannot see her friends as she has her back to them, she knows that Sansa will be pulling faces at Margaery in an effort to get her to behave. However, it doesn't seem to work, as just as Brienne goes in search of the sugar, Margaery launches yet another attack.

"Look, I'm not trying to make you feel bad, B, I just want you to keep your mind open to the fact that you might not be meeting Jaime. You are just setting yourself up for heartbreak otherwise."

"I'm not. I'm--"

"You are."

Armed with her cup of tea, Brienne turns around to find Sansa and Margaery standing shoulder to shoulder. Sure, Sansa might be a little more tactful in how she delivers the bad news, but on the Jaime issue she and Margaery are of one mind.

"Brienne, all Margaery is trying to say is that you've got to get some perspective here," says Sansa. "What would you say to me if I announced I was talking to three-time platinum album winner Mance Rayder on the weirnet? You would tell me I sounded crazy, wouldn't you? Wouldn't you?"

Brienne takes a sip of tea and shrugs her shoulders. "If you believed that it was really him, I would trust--"

"Girl!" cries Margaery, giving a groan of disapproval. "We know you want Jaime to be real, we know, we really know, and we understand why. Hyle was a dick, Connington was a psychopath, and Jaime is nice--"

Snorting at Margaery's assumption, Brienne takes another sip of tea, and fixes her friend with a firm look. "I wouldn't say he's nice. He's rude and he's caustic and he's sharp... but he's kind behind all that, and that's what I like about him."

"If he was really kind, would he have left you hanging at the Twins all by yourself?"

"I told you, his dad needed him--"

"Brienne! Please get some sense."

Recognising that Margaery is about to blow her top, Sansa rests her hand on her girlfriend's shoulder, then turns to look at Brienne. Her expression is sympathetic, but Brienne can tell there is steel underneath. "Look, you and Margaery are clearly not going to agree on whether Jaime is real or not, but can you please prepare yourself for all eventualities. We would both hate for you to get your heart crushed."

Brienne sips some more tea. She wants to tell Sansa that she won't get her heart broken because Jaime is Jaime, but that feels like she is treading the same ground again. Deep down, she knows that Sansa and Margaery are trying to look out for her, but she finds their relentless cynicism draining. Throughout her life, she has had so few pieces of love and romance that now it is here, she wants to cling on tight with everything she has.

"I won't get my heart crushed," says Brienne, working her mouth to shape her words into something that doesn't sound like a lie. "I'm prepared for Jaime... whoever he may be."

Margaery pulls a sceptical expression. In spite of everything, it is clear she doesn't believe her.

Once everything is set up in the lounge, Brienne, Margaery, and Sansa are summoned back into their own living room to make hold court with Oberyn and Ellaria. Both of them look too poised and pristine for the dingy little flat - Oberyn is wearing a tailored silk shirt and Ellaria's hair is expensively coiffed - but there is an excited glint in both their gazes that tells Brienne that they have found some too tasty to keep to themselves for long.

"Sit, Brienne," says Oberyn, with a flourish of his hand. "Make sure you are in front of the laptop, but that the camera can see your eyeline. We need to capture all your expressions."

Brienne feels awkward that Oberyn is bossing her around in her own house, and that he is so willing to use her feelings as good TV, but then she remembers that she willingly signed up for this, and the end goal was meeting Jaime. Fakers would fly her out to meet him for free, and the thought of seeing him in the flesh sets her heart beating. As the crew prepare the last few set pieces - that Margaery and Sansa are seated in just the right place in order to gasp at the correct times, that the light perfectly bounces off Oberyn's tousled locks, and that the glow from the laptop does not add a weird blueish tinge to Ellaria's skin - Brienne shuffles nervously in her seat. She is not the type to ever aspire to spotlight, so the intrusive stares of the cameras make her feel a little uncomfortable.

I'm doing this for Jaime, she tells herself. I'm doing this for Jaime, I'm doing this for--

"Fakers," announces a runner armed with a clapperboard. "Season Three. Episode Four. Scene 4. Action!"

A moment after the clapperboard's loud snap, Oberyn springs into life, all shiny teeth and fake enthusiasm. "Thank you so much for welcoming us into your wonderful home," he says, indicating round at the sparse living room. "But you know we are here for serious business. How are you feeling today, Brienne?"

"Fine," she says, even though there is a lump in her throat. "I just really want to meet Jaime, that is all... but the thought that he could be so close, so close I could touch him... that makes me nervous."

"Why?" asks Ellaria, genuinely perplexed. "Don't you want to meet him?"

Brienne shrugs her shoulders in an attempt to appear nonchalant. "Yes, of course, but... I don't know. Our relationship has been online for so long that bringing it into the real world... well, it leaves me a little scared as well as excited."

From her position just outside of shot Sansa gives her a reassuring nod, but Brienne barely has time to acknowledge it before Ellaria jumps on her with the next question. "Have you thought about what it might mean to be in a relationship with one of the most famous men in the Seven Kingdoms? It will surely change your life considerably; think of those parties, those holidays, that money--"

"It is not Jaime's money I like him for," says Brienne, her voice taking on a strangely bitter tone. "I like him for him."

Ellaria pats her hand reassuringly. "I know that, dear, I just think it would be in your best interest to approach this realistically, not as if you are walking into a waking dream."

Although the idea that Brienne is being unrealistic in believing the man that she has been talking to is Jaime irks her somewhat, she knows she must swallow her pride and go along with the game if she is to meet him through Fakers. Therefore, she fixes a false smile on her face and ploughs on. "I will approach this realistically once I have all the evidence," she says. "What have you got for me?"

At the mention of evidence, Oberyn lights up as bright as a spotlight, then turns towards the laptop. "Oh, we've found plenty that will interest you. Would you care to see?"

At Oberyn's question, Ellaria, Brienne, Sansa, and Margaery all inch closer so they can get a better look at what is on the laptop screen. At the same time, the cameras zoom in, their lenses making a soft whirring sound as they arm themselves to capture the scene perfectly.

"So," says Oberyn once everyone is settled. "We started by taking the history forum account you gave us. SerArthurDayne, correct?"

"Correct."

"We decided to check out Jaime's interests, what he's been talking about on there, to see if it rings true with what you know about him."

Brienne nods. "Sounds great. What did you find?"

Oberyn taps away on the keyboard, clearly looking for the appropriate tab, before giving her an answer. "Well, we found that the SerArthurDayne account was started four years ago, mostly to talk about the Jay Hill action movie series, but then around three years ago he started almost exclusively talking about the history of the Second Long Night, and became the mod of the board you met him on."

"Well, he's always told me that he loves the Jay Hill films, so that makes sense," says Brienne, giving Oberyn a triumphant smile. She is going to hold onto any piece of good news as tight as she can. "Anything else?"

"We then looked at his post history, and we discovered that up to about a year ago, he was a regular poster as a mod, when his entire activity seemed to narrow down to personal messages with you."

At that revelation, Brienne feels strangely heart warmed. She had known that Jaime cared about her, but has not realised that she had become so central in his life.

"That is a good thing, isn't it?" asks Margaery from her position on the sofa, tilting her head. In spite of Margaery's recent cynicism, Brienne can't help but agree.

Expecting Oberyn to answer, Brienne is surprised when Ellaria takes over. "Yes, it is good news..." she says, her tone doubtful, "although maybe we want to look at some other information we found. Oberyn?"

"Of course, my love," replies Oberyn. As they turn back to the laptop, Oberyn brings up the weirgram account that Jaime had added Brienne to. It has a few photos of Jaime - at the beach, on a walk in the woods, in front of a sunset on the coast of the Westerlands - but it is mostly landscape shots of the walks he has often told her he likes to take. There are no smart suits or fast cars - just Jaime, without the shine of celebrity.

"What did you find out about the weirgram account?" asks Brienne.

"Well, firstly, we looked at whether it seems like a real account... and I have to say we were initially impressed," says Oberyn.

"Yes," agrees Ellaria with a flick of her hair. "Although it is a private account, it has a number of pictures that we can't find elsewhere on weirgram and regular commenters that made us think that it is real."

While Brienne is still stuck on the slightly foreboding word initially, Sansa and Margaery suddenly seem sold on the idea. "Oh, that is wonderful news," says Sansa.

"Yes!" agrees Margaery. "At least it is not obviously a catfish."

"Yes," says Oberyn, "but there were a couple of things that made us doubtful."

As Brienne's stomach roiled, she summoned up the courage to respond. "Doubtful? About what?"

At her question, Oberyn clicks through to the weirgram account's follower list and, apart from herself, Brienne is met by a sea of unfamiliar faces and strange icons that she has never associated with Jaime before. "Well, firstly, we thought that Jaime would have an official account, blue tick and everything."

"Does he?" asks Brienne. She has never thought to look.

"Yes," replies Oberyn, opening it on another tab. "And as you can see here, he does have one."

In a marked contrast from the private account, Jaime's public weirgram account is full of glossy pictures of him promoting products, wearing sharp suits, and at fancy King's Landing events that mere mortals would never get invited to.

"Did Jaime ever send you the link to this weirgram account?" asks Oberyn.

Brienne shakes her head, trying not to blush at the disappointed expressions Sansa and Margaery are pulling. "No, he never sent it to me." She picks at her fingernails, feeling a little overwhelmed under the gaze of the cameras, the hosts, and her friends. "But maybe he didn't want me to be a part of that fake world. He always told me that being a Lannister was a burden, and that he does a lot of these events to please his dad... perhaps he didn't want me to see that side of him."

"Perhaps," says Ellaria, although Brienne is not very convinced that she is persuaded. "Although, it should be said that the public account is followed by many people you would expect to be following Jaime - his father, his brother, his cousin Daven, his girlfriend Cersei—"

"Ex-girlfriend," interrupts Brienne. She tries, and fails, not to sound bitter.

Once again brushing her hair over her shoulder, Ellaria turns back to Oberyn, evidently wanting him to take over the narrative. He obliges her. "The same cannot be said of his private account. He is not following any of his family members or Lannister associates, and nobody is following him in return."

Brienne wishes she had excuses or explanations for Jaime, but under the glare of the cameras, her words run dry. She tries to hold onto Jaime's kindness and his sweetness, on the twenty thousand dragons he had sent her, and not on his suspicious weirgram account. Every day, Brienne tries to believe in the good in other people, and there is no one she wants to have faith in more than Jaime.

"Maybe his private account is for him, whereas the public one is more about his persona..."

"We did suspect that, so we decided to contact some of his followers who regularly post on his pictures to see what they know," says Oberyn. "Luckily, one of them got back to us."

"Who?" asks Margaery, her obvious interest in solving the mystery trumping her need to be the supportive best friend for the camera.

As Oberyn gets up a profile of yet another unfamiliar person, Ellaria provides the details, her voice silky smooth and as soft as honey. "Her name is Pia, and she is a regular commenter on Jaime's photos. We got in contact with her, and she agreed to video chat, and she told us that although she follows the account, she has never actually met Jaime in person."

Brienne's eyebrows raise in surprise. "She hasn't?"

"No," continues Ellaria. "Apparently, she only follows the account because she has always been a major Jaime Lannister fan, and her boyfriend Josmyn is one of his assistants."

As if on cue, Oberyn brings up yet another new profile on a new tab. This one is for a fragile looking youth with brown hair and a soft, peach fuzz beard. Under his profile picture, in bold, is the name "Josmyn Peckledon".

"Has Jaime ever mentioned Josmyn to you before?" asks Oberyn.

For what feels like the thousandth time that day, Brienne shakes her head. "No, he hasn't."

"Ah," says Oberyn, a world of doubt behind that solitary exclamation. It makes Brienne's blood run cold. "That is worrying, as Pia told us that Josmyn is one of Jaime's key day-to-day helps, and that he often runs his social media."

Brienne can almost taste the effect those words have on the room. Margaery lets out a little gasp, which she quickly silences by clapping a hand over her mouth, while Sansa shakes her head in a kind of angry disbelief.

"Oh gods, Brienne. I'm so sorry."

"Why? We don't know anything yet. Just because this Josmyn guy does some of Jaime's social media, it doesn't mean I have been talking to him. Maybe he manages the public account, not the private one."

"Then why would Pia follow the private account?" asks Margaery. "And why would Jaime accept her friend request if they have never met?"

While Brienne does not have answers for those questions, she does have a few weapons to fight back with. "But where would a personal assistant get twenty thousand dragons from? That is no small amount of money."

"Yes," says Oberyn slowly, "but we have more."

Brienne's stomach sinks. "More?"

"We ran the phone number you gave us for Jaime," says Ellaria, "and it turns out it is registered to one Peck Peckledon. Pia told us that Peck is Josmyn's nickname."

Turning back to the profile photo of the man - no, boy - who seems to be a few years younger than herself, Brienne tries to reconcile his image with the sweet, loving, messages that Jaime has sent her. Try as she might, she cannot make them fit. The man she has been talking to has lived a full life, and has experienced things a teenaged boy could not hope to have done.

At least... that is what she wants to believe.

"Am I going to be able to meet Jaime?"

Oberyn and Ellaria exchange a look before he answers her question. "Yes, I can call Jaime for you, and we can arrange a meeting, even if it involves flying you out somewhere."

"Good," replies Brienne. "I need to talk to him as soon as possible. I need to know the truth."

Whatever the truth is.

Chapter Text

The arrangements happen so quickly that the following days pass in a blur.

"Jaime doesn't want to meet in King's Landing but in a friend's house in Ashemark, not far from Casterly Rock," says Oberyn. His expression is unreadable, but there is something about the way he emphasises the word Jaime that makes Brienne think he believes it is a fake name. "We have our flights booked for tomorrow morning, and then we will meet him the day after. He said he had to sort some things out with his family before he was willing to meet you."

Margaery glances at Brienne, clearly expecting her to say something profound, but Brienne just nods dispassionately. Despite everything she has heard, she still believes she will be meeting Jaime in two days’ time, so there is no need to get worked up. The real Jaime Lannister probably has to break it to his father that he is engaged to a nobody from nowhere, right? There must be reasons why he hasn't been able to visit her, surely?

After the plans are made for the following day and the production team have got shots of every inch of the flat, Oberyn, Ellaria, and the crew leave Brienne alone for the night, with only Sansa and Margaery's company. Although this whole thing with Fakers has been an effort by her friends to help her navigate her relationship with Jaime, Brienne wants some time by herself to consider her options.

"Should we order a takeaway?" asks Sansa. "I think we have some red wine in the fridge. We could make a night of it."

Margaery claps her hands in faux excitement. "Oooh! Yes. We could have a proper girl's night. A takeaway, some drinks, a good film... we can forget all about stupid boys and their stupid plots on the weirnet, and just have fun. What do you think?"

In the face of Sansa and Margaery's enthusiasm, Brienne can only offer them a weak smile. "I'm sorry guys, I think I need an early night. Today was... stressful."

"Oh, sure," says Margaery, her grin dropping to be replaced by an awkward look of understanding. "We're going to have to be up early for our flight to Lannisport tomorrow, so it is probably best if you are well rested."

"Yes, it's going to be a long day," adds Sansa.

Brienne nods. She loves and appreciates her friends, but almost feels their doubt surrounding Jaime seeping into her skin, transmitted by their soft smiles and attempts at kindness. She has no time for it; she is going to believe in Jaime until the last moment, until Josmyn Peckledon comes and stands before her and tells her he has been the one lying to her for a whole year, and that everything that passed between them has been nothing but play-acting.

She won't give up on him until the night draws in around her.

Quelling a shiver, Brienne bites her lip, then signals towards her bedroom door.

"I'll see you guys in the morning. I really need some rest."

She flees before they can stop her with any more well-meaning platitudes

Although she had made sure to go to bed early, Brienne cannot sleep.

Hours stretch by in desolate silence as the light dims behind her bedroom curtains. The North is always swathed in a dim, grey glow, but tonight it seems particularly bleak and cold, chilling her to the bone. She thinks of Tarth; warm and blue and inviting. She has not lived there since she was a teenager, before she went off to Winterfell University, but she still associates it with the safe, sunny days of childhood that she had shared with her father. In her dread of what she may face tomorrow, she wants to go back there. Despite all the certainties about Jaime's identity that she has voiced to Sansa and Margaery, deep down Brienne feels running away to Tarth would be better than continuing to hover over this precipice with the gaping abyss beneath her feet, contorted and oscillating between fear and faith.

Brienne picks up her phone and sits up as the pale blue light from the screen floods her room.

Brienne:           I'm sorry it had to be this way.

Knowing she can say nothing more, she puts the phone down and burrows back into bed, sure that Jaime won't answer her. He's probably angry that she decided to do it this way, that she has done something so blatantly lacking in trust as contacting a reality TV show to force him to reveal his true face to her. All she wants is intimacy with the man she loves, but she feels as if going on Fakers is like she is prizing open Jaime's chest in a cracking of bone and blood, all to get at a heart he is unwilling to give to her.

A few seconds later, her phone lights up.

Snapping her eyes open, Brienne grabs for her phone, then has to wait for her eyes to adjust. Her mouth falls open in shock when she sees Jaime's response.

Jaime:              That's okay. I couldn't avoid this forever.

A slightly sick feeling settles in Brienne's stomach as she reads and rereads at those words; the truth has never seemed so threatening. She can almost imagine Josmyn Peckledon staring down at his phone, responding to her messages, his expression drawn as he continues to weave out his deceptions even this late in the game.

She shakes her head; she doesn't want to picture that.

Brienne:           Why have you been avoiding meeting me?

Jaime:              I don't want you to be disappointed.

Brienne:           Why would I be disappointed?

He doesn't answer immediately, but instead leads her hanging while the three dots of doom appear on the screen. Biting her lip nervously, Brienne flicks over to Jaime's private weirgram account that Oberyn and Ellaria had tried so hard to discredit. She loves these pictures of him. Sure, they are often only of him from the shoulders up, but he is always smiling, always looking happy. It is quite a contrast from the frowning, posed pictures of him that litter the gossip magazine that she is sure is arranged by the Lannisters' PR person.

Jaime:              I'm worried that you want to meet Jaime Lannister.

Brienne takes a deep breath. She knows that, if she pushes hard enough now, she could get him to confess all over text message. Why had he not wanted to video chat? Where had he got twenty thousand dragons from? Why are none of his family following him on his private social media? Why did he not meet her at The Twins? Is his name really Jaime at all? However, she can tell he is feeling exposed and vulnerable right now, and as she doesn't want to hurt him, so she holds back, even though everything inside her is screaming not to.

Brienne:           I just want to meet you, the man I've been talking to for the past year.

Jaime:              I want to meet you too. I love you and I'll see you soon xx

Brienne packs light for the trip to Lannisport, so light in fact that she can fit all her belongings in her hand luggage. It feels a little safer that way, especially as she has brought her engagement ring with her, and she doesn't want to lose it in the labyrinth of a bustling airport. Tucking it in her rucksack's zipped pocket, she hopes it won't be accidentally discarded in the excitement of the day and is determined to keep it safe until she and Jaime are face to face.

In the early hours of the morning, she boards the plane to Lannisport with Margaery, Sansa, and the whole of the Fakers crew. Apparently, Oberyn refuses to ever fly anything other than first class, so Brienne finds herself in a comfortable seat with lots of leg room, being doted on by the cabin crew, while Margaery and Sansa sit either side of her like two very well-dressed bodyguards. Margaery seems to think the best way to break the tension is to babble incessantly about anything other than Jaime, how Brienne feels, and the TV show they are stuck in the middle of, while Sansa reaches out and pats Brienne's hand at least three times every five minutes. Oberyn and Ellaria are sitting along the same horizontal as Brienne and her friends, so the camera crew are always there to catch every time they interact, probably in hopes that they can create some fun montage of the journey for the show. Unfortunately for them, Brienne does not look too excitable, as a knot of fear has lodged itself in her belly and is growing tighter by the minute.

"Are you okay?" asks Sansa, once the air stewardess has come round to offer them nuts and a can of flat cola for what feels like the fourth time in half an hour. "You look a little pale."

Brienne nods, even though she feels terrible. "Yeah, I'm fine... I just can't believe I'm going to actually meet Jaime tomorrow... it doesn't seem real."

"It has been a long time," concurs Sansa, taking hold of Brienne's hand. "Whatever happens, whether it is really him you've been talking to or not, everything is going to change. You are either going to have to confront the fact that you have been talking to somebody who has lied to you for a whole year, or that you are in a relationship with the real Jaime Lannister. That is a big deal."

"I know."

Brienne turns her head to pretend to look out the window but finds Margaery waiting for her with wide eyes. "His ex, Cersei, was a famous model... a celebrity. People are fascinated by the Lannisters. Are you ready for that?"

In truth, Brienne does not know. Loving Jaime over the weirnet is easy; she had fallen into it before she could even give it a name. But being his girlfriend on a public stage? She does not know if she is prepared for that role, as she has never enjoyed the limelight. Perhaps it will take seeing him in person to know what she wants to do next.

Luckily, there is an easy way out of answering Margaery with the truth.

"As you keep saying, it might not even be the real Jaime."

Margaery pulls a face. "But you don't believe that?"

"I..."

In truth, she doesn't know what to think anymore. Last night, Jaime had admitted that he was worried that she might want to meet Jaime Lannister. What is that supposed to mean? Given everything that the Fakers crew have discovered about the accounts she had been talking to, the hope that she had been communicating with the real Jaime Lannister is difficult to cling onto in the face of cold, hard evidence...

But she wants to hope.

She wants to dream.

Once they land in Lannisport, it is just a rush to the hotel and a scramble for rooms. They will be setting off early for Ashemark early in the morning to give them as much time as possible to film footage for her episode, so once again Brienne finds herself in bed hours before she usually does.

This time, he texts her first.

Jaime:              I'm sorry, B. I'm sorry for everything x

"Right," says Oberyn the following morning, as Brienne climbs into the backseat of the huge Fakers SUV alongside Margaery and Sansa. Ellaria is sitting up front beside Oberyn, and cameras have been installed on the back of the seats capture Brienne's every reaction. She tries not to feel watched, but it is a little difficult when the LED light on the camera blinks every few seconds. "Jaime said he wants to meet at his friend Addam's house in Ashemark. It will take us about two and a half hours to get there. Brienne, how are you feeling?"

Although she had prepared a little spiel the night before, Brienne's words suddenly run dry. "I... uh... feel nervous."

"At the thought of meeting Jaime?" asks Ellaria.

At the thought of not meeting Jaime, Brienne thinks.

"Yeah," she lies. "It's been such a long time since we started speaking. I... I'm worried I won't know what to say."

Sansa gives her an encouraging smile. "Just be yourself. He will want to meet you, just as much as you want to meet him."

At that statement, Oberyn and Ellaria exchange a sceptical look. Having already hosted two seasons of Fakers, Brienne realises they must be well aware of the conniving, the lying, and the downright dishonesty that goes on behind many weirnet relationships. However, she wishes that they could just open their minds to the possibility that she really has been talking to Jaime, if only because her own hope is slipping away, and she needs a life raft to hold onto.

The drive to Ashemark is mostly conducted in silence, only punctuated by Ellaria occasionally calling the crew in the other car on her mobile to make sure they are still in convoy. With every mile, Brienne feels worse and worse. Part of her wants to message Jaime again; he has always been so good at comforting her, at finding the right words to make everything okay.

But he is apologetic, she thinks. And if he is apologetic... does that mean he is saying sorry for breaking my heart? 

Ashemark is a wealthy, gated community containing many houses in the same hexagonal, post-modernist style. Whoever this Addam is, it is likely he from the same well-heeled circles as Jaime, with parents that owned a major business, or grandparents that had left him a fortune in stocks and shares. While Brienne's own family had not been dirt poor, her father had often existed paycheck to paycheck, fully dependent on how many fish he caught in his trawler on the choppy seas of Shipbreaker's Bay. The easy comfort that accompanies wealth is something totally alien to Brienne, and she wonders if it is something that could come between her and Jaime when they finally meet.

"I think the address is just up here," says Ellaria, pointing out one of the houses at the end of the road. From Brienne's limited position in the back of the car, she can just about make out the red carpet of a front drive and the never amount of space surrounding the house. Addam (or his family) clearly has no small amount of cash.

When they pull up to the front drive, Oberyn leaps out of the car at once to go and talk to the production manager who has just arrived in the other vehicle. Margaery gives Brienne an encouraging pat on the knee and Sansa offers another sad smile, before the two of them follow Oberyn and get out of the car.  Brienne tries to copy them, but it feels as if her legs have turned to lead.

"It's okay," says Ellaria, shocking Brienne out of her stupor with her sudden interest from the front seat. "You can do this. It is just as simple as getting out the car and facing whoever is out there."

She can tell that Ellaria is just trying to help her, if only for the cameras, but the fact that she is offering this advice while approaching the Jaime situation with a profound scepticism leaves Brienne feeling a little cold. "It's more than that," she says. "It is facing Jaime... whoever he might be."

The expensive bracelet from hanging from Ellaria's wrist jangles as she stretches into the back of the car, patting Brienne on the knee just as Margaery had. It lacks Brienne's friend's warmth. "It's not just Jaime, but also your audience."

Before Brienne can reply, Ellaria smiles at her - beautiful but strangely calculating - then sweeps out of the car, all designer clothes and expensive perfume. Once again entirely alone, Brienne takes a deep breath and closes her eyes, trying to hold the fear back.

I can do this. I can do this. I can do this.

Marshalling every piece of courage within her, Brienne finally finds the strength to get out the car. The camera crew are already set up, and Oberyn is standing halfway up the front drive with Ellaria, Margaery, and Sansa. The moment Brienne appears, the cameras are upon her, and she stops just being herself, but a character in this reality TV show, set up to be ridiculed when the man she is talking to inevitably turns out not to be Jaime.

"Are you ready for this?" asks Oberyn, a camera flashing behind him.

"As ready as I'll ever be."

Perhaps sensing Brienne's nerves, Sansa comes and stands beside her, putting her arm around Brienne's shoulder. "We're here... however you need us."

"Yes," agrees Margaery, joining Sansa on Brienne's other side. "We're here. Do you want us to go knock on the door for you?"

Oberyn raises a hand, intruding into the conversation. "That is usually my job. Why don't the four of you wait here, and I will find out who is waiting inside?"

Knowing there is no way to delay the inevitable a moment longer, Brienne nods, and at her implicit order Oberyn turns away and walks up towards the front door, all confidence and self-importance. Brienne bites her lip. She cannot quite imagine her life the other side of this moment. Will she be ecstatic? Pleased? Overwhelmed? Or heartbroken?

After Oberyn knocks and the door swings open, Brienne sees a shadowed figure on the other side of the threshold. Oberyn speaks to him in a low voice, and Brienne is sure it is for dramatic effect, as the man does not come out into the light. The shadowed outline she can just about make out against the dark background of the house's interior is too broad to be little Peck Peckledon, but too short to be the willowy Jaime Lannister.

"It will be okay," says Sansa, as if she is trying to reassure herself as much as Brienne. "It will be okay, it will be okay, it–-"

As Sansa squeezes Brienne's shoulder comfortingly, the man steps out into the sunlight. It is not Jaime. He is fairly tall - although shorter than Brienne - with a shock of bright red hair and a neatly trimmed beard. If she hadn't been caught up on Jaime, she might look twice at this man, because he has a languid confidence that is somehow attractive. The man with red hair says something to Oberyn, and then the latter summons Brienne, Sansa, and Margaery up to the porch with a wave of his hand. Brienne obliges, but she feels as if her legs are shaking the whole way.

"This is Addam," says Oberyn, the moment Brienne, Sansa, Margaery, Ellaria and the wide-eyed, staring camera meet him on the threshold. "He is Jaime's friend, and says he is just here to facilitate the introduction."

Ellaria's eyes narrow at once. "Are you sure you are not the man behind the Jaime profile?"

"I'm sure," replies Addam with a carefree laugh. "Come through to the garden. He's waiting for you there. He wants to keep this private... beyond the view of prying eyes."

With that ominous statement, Addam turns around and enters the house, and a rush of people follow him. The crew, Brienne's friends, and the hosts dash forward, and she feels herself being pulled along in the excitable current. Part of her wants to move faster, to push her way to the front and be the first to meet Jaime. Another wants to never take another step, to stick her feet to the floor and refuse to move an inch further. In the blur of fear and excitement, Brienne is barely able to take in Addam's beautiful house. It is clear he comes from the same social milieux as Jaime; dripping in money and barely any sense. While the camera crew takes its time to focus on the opulent luxury of the house, Brienne is pushed to the front of the pack, and she cannot help but be driven towards the back door and out into the garden as Oberyn, Ellaria, Sansa, and Margaery propel her forward.

Margaery and Sansa hold her hands the whole way.

When she finally emerges into the dappled sunlight, Brienne finds someone waiting for her at the bottom of the garden. From a distance, she can only see a flash of gold hair and a smart black suit. It takes him moving closer for her to pick out his more particular features; his green eyes, his smart mouth, his cutglass jaw. In the shimmering light of the garden, his identity is unmistakeable, and it almost takes Brienne's breath away.

"Oh my gods," says Margaery as he draws near. "Is that--?"

"--Jaime Lannister?" concludes Sansa, dumbfounded.

Brienne can barely move, barely breathe as Jaime closes the gap between him and her in a series of confident paces, growing quicker by the second, and before she even has time to piece everything together, he is standing before her - real and here and wonderful - with a tentative smile on his face.

She had never imagined that he would be just as nervous as she is.

"Brienne," he begins to say, his voice quiet, "I--"

"JAIME LANNISTER?" Oberyn near shouts from behind Brienne. "It's YOU?"

As Brienne goes to move away from the cameras, the TV hosts, and her friends, Ellaria rests her hand on Oberyn's shoulder, as if to quiet him, even though she looks as if she is going to burst with shock and surprise herself. "Unless it is not just you here. Where is Josmyn? Is he hiding somewhere out here? Or is he inside?"

Jaime struggles to answer immediately, as he is not looking at Ellaria, even though she is polished, poised, and dressed to the nines. His eyes are only for Brienne, and she does not know what to say under the intensity of his stare.

"Why would Josmyn be here?"

"We traced your phone number," says Oberyn. "And we saw that it was registered to Peck Peckledon, so we suspected..."

Just as he has done in many other episodes of Fakers, Oberyn then goes into a dramatic, accusatory monologue, listing everything the Fakers team has found that is even halfway suspicious about Jaime. The twenty-thousand dragons. The weirgram profile. His reluctance to meet in The Twins. Yet Brienne cannot even bring herself to listen, because Jaime is here and he is smiling at her in this soft, sweet way that almost suggests he cares. She drinks in the sight of him; from his perfect, golden hair, to his handsome smile, to the strong shoulders and the tapering waist, to the prosthetic hand he tries to hide under a long sleeve, to the long legs with--

Wait. Prosthetic hand.

"Can you explain that to us, Jaime?" asks Ellaria, her abrasive words cutting into Brienne's living daydream. "Why was your phone registered under the name Peck Peckledon?"

It was only Ellaria's pointed tone that finally convinces Jaime to look in her direction, and even then he is distracted, as his eyes keep darting back to Brienne. "Things... are difficult at the moment. Things ended badly with Cersei. My dad wants me to date someone serious who will make the Lannister name great again, and things are already tense enough with Tyrion dating who he is dating. It is what stopped me meeting Brienne at The Twins; I didn't want my father to send some of his people to spy on us and for her to get hurt. So... I just asked Peck, my assistant, to pick up a burner phone for me. I would be able to talk to Brienne that way without being snooped on by my dad. It must have been registered under his name."

"But it is you that has been talking to Brienne on that phone?" asks Oberyn.

Jaime nods slowly. "Yes. It has always been me."

"And the weirgram account?" asks Ellaria, before Brienne can even get a word out. "Why did you send her a link to that private account and not your public one? The one that is followed by all your friends and family?"

Jaime's expression turns slightly pained. "Again... it allowed me to talk to Brienne without being watched." He turns to Brienne, his eyes big and green and regretful. "B, if there was any way--"

"We got in contact with someone called Pia," announces Oberyn, all imperious school marm. "She is your assistant Peck's girlfriend, and she says she's a follower of yours on that account, but she hasn't even met you."

Brienne notices as a flash of irritation crosses Jaime's face. Perhaps he is just as annoyed as she is that these facile questions don't enable them to get to the heart of the truth. "As you said, Peck does a lot of my social media," he replies curtly. "Pia's his girlfriend. It was a favour to him."

At Jaime's rather vague answer, it is now Sansa and Margaery's turn to join in on the inquisition. "Okay," begins Margaery, "but why did you never video chat Brienne? She was dying to speak to you... but nothing. Did you not want to speak to her?"

"No!" says Jaime, alarmed. "It was not that. It was never that. It was just--"

"Yes?"

It is the first word that Brienne has spoken in Jaime's presence, and his eyes instantly dart back to her, dark and intense. "B... I was worried you wouldn't want to speak to me."

That knocks Brienne for six.

"I wouldn't want to speak... to you?" she says, flabbergasted. "Why on earth would you think that? If you are the man I have been speaking to for the past year--"

"I am."

"And if you feel the way about me that you say you do--"

"I do."

Butterflies erupt in Brienne's stomach, fighting the bars of the cage like chained beasts as she steps forward slightly. Jaime reciprocates. "Then why would you ever think I wouldn't want to speak to you?"

He gives her a weary smile, and she suddenly gets the impression that he is carrying the weight of the world on his broad shoulders. "Look at me," he says, his voice little more than a rasp.

"I am looking at you."

"Then you should understand why."

She doesn't. Brienne is sure she could stare at him for the next six hours and still have no clue what he is referring to. Jaime is everything he said he would be and more, so she cannot understand his sudden fearfulness to engage.

"I'm sorry," she says, not wanting to upset him, "but I don't understand. Can you explain it to me? I want to understand."

Once again, his face contorts into an expression of anguish that Brienne cannot process. They are here, together, in a beautiful garden where the blossoms are growing and all the lies collapsing around them. What is stopping him taking the last few steps and letting her hold him in her arms?

"All the pictures on my weirgram... they are curated," he says, almost guiltily. "I used photo editing software to make me look better, because ever since I lost my hand in the accident, I know I'm not... that a woman wouldn't want... Cersei told me that..."

He trails off, dejected, but Brienne does not need him to finish his sentence. She understands. At various points in her life, she has felt unattractive, unwanted, and less than, and those periods had been so dark for her that she knows she does not want to hear those horrible words come out of his mouth. To her, Jaime is nothing but kindness and goodness, and she wants him to know that.

However, Oberyn and Ellaria are prepared to push.

"An accident?" asks Ellaria, her voice all sugary concern. "What accident was that? It hasn't appeared in the papers."

Jaime looks uncomfortable. "It was about a year and a half ago. I was driving my car too fast around the winding roads near Casterly Rock. I came off the road due to bad weather and the car flipped. I lost my hand, my girlfriend dumped me, and my father tried everything to brush it all under the carpet. I started talking to Brienne just as I was coming out of a deep, dark depression... and she brought so much light to my life and gave me a reason to live... so much joy... but I'm not foolish enough to think that she would want me back. Not really. Not truly. Not when I'm broken."

"You're not broken," gasps Brienne, determined not to hear another hateful word come out of Jaime's mouth. "You're wonderful. And I'm so happy to see you."

Before Margaery or Sansa or Oberyn and Ellaria can stop her, Brienne closes the gap between herself and Jaime, and throws her arms around him. He surrenders at once, returning her embrace and curling into her as if she is protection from a storm. At his acquiescence, Brienne cannot help but smile; their bodies fit together perfectly, and he smells of home and safety and him. If she had been worried that her attraction to him was purely spiritual, her fear washes away, as she suddenly feels that primal want for him in the pit of her belly.

"Jaime," she whispers into his ear. "Oh, Jaime. You are here."

"I am, I am, and I'm sorry."

She tuts, then runs her fingers through his hair. It feels like silk. "Don't be sorry. I understand what it is like to be afraid, but there is no more need for fear. We can talk it all through. We can sort it all out. Just trust me."

Not caring that her friends, the crew, and two highly sceptical TV hosts are still watching, Brienne pulls away slightly so she can look Jaime in the eyes. He looks so goddamn relieved that she has accepted him that Brienne cannot help but smile, even as she presses her mouth against his. His kisses taste sweet, and she loves the way that he holds onto her, firm and gentle all at once.

This will work, she thinks. This will work.

When she breaks the kiss, Jaime looks up at her, lovesick and lovestruck. "Brienne," he says, breathlessly. "Do you have the engagement ring?"

"Yes, I do. Do you want me to go get it?"

"If you don't mind being proposed to on TV."

Brienne lets out a little laugh. Out of the corner of her eye, she can see the stunned expressions of everyone around her - from Margaery and Sansa, to Oberyn and Ellaria, and even to the crew trying to catch this all on camera - and it feels like a well-earned reward in the face of her faith and their scepticism. However, her relationship with Jaime had always flourished best in the secret, private places that the two of them cultivated together, apart from others, so she is suddenly struck with the thought that, if she is to have everything with Jaime, she does not want to experience it in front of a baying audience.

"To be honest, Jaime, I don't want to be proposed to on TV," she says. "So, can we go somewhere private? Just the two of us? Then we can talk about where we go from here."

Jaime grins broadly and takes her hand, their fingers intertwining. While Sansa and Margaery look as if they are about to burst into applause, Oberyn looks set to explode with rage.

"You can't just walk off!" he thunders. "This is a TV show! This is Fakers!"

"And we are not faking anything," retorts Brienne.

"We might have started on the weirnet," says Jaime, "but this is real."

Feeling overwhelmed by the whole situation, there is nothing that Brienne can do but give Jaime a happy, if rather teary-eyed, smile. He squeezes her hand, then gestures back inside the house with his prosthetic hand.

"Come on, I know a really nice Pentoshi restaurant nearby. We can get some duck rolls and discuss whether we are just boyfriend and girlfriend, or whether we are betrothed."

"Sounds perfect."

And, to be honest, it is.