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Day One
The Quiet Isle does not live up to its name, Jaime thinks.
When he had been at the head of the Lannister army, spending his time in that large, extravagant silk tent patterned with lace and lions, Jaime had taken to perusing one of the large, detailed maps of the Riverlands that the king’s cartographers had drawn up for him. Given the purpose of his mission, most of his attention had been on the delicately illuminated images of Riverrun and Raventree, but occasionally his eyes had flitted across the rest of the map, taking in the finely drawn rivers and rivulets, and the tiny hamlets that were barely big enough to have names of their own. He had often wondered where Brienne was. Thinking of her, his gaze had been drawn to a solitary island at the mouth of the Trident, just south of Saltpans. The name had attracted him; the Quiet Isle had sounded like a place where a man could rest, entirely undisturbed by anyone or anything. No war drums. No clatter of horses’ hooves. No dreams of wildfire. Just a never-ending tranquillity – similar to the one he often imagined he saw in Brienne of Tarth’s blue eyes – that Jaime Lannister could envelope himself in, blotting out the rest of the world.
Mayhaps, on the Quiet Isle, he could listen to the birds.
However, now he is here, Jaime knows that his sleepy daydreams from that recent, yet distant, time had been very far from the truth. The Quiet Isle is anything but quiet. There is no peace here, no supine languidness, no inescapable sense of tranquillity. Instead, the air is cleaved by piercing screams of pain - day and night, night and day - as loud and sharp as a broadsword ricocheting against plate armour in a melee.
It is her screaming, of course. Brienne.
“Let me see her,” Jaime had begged the Elder Brother, almost getting on his hands and knees in front of the man. “I need to know why she did it. I need to be with her. I need--“
“I’m afraid I cannot allow that,” says the man. Despite his rejection of Jaime’s request, his voice is brimming with sympathy. “The Lady Brienne is very badly wounded, and all efforts need to be focussed on her recovery. The brothers are with her now trying their very hardest to save her life. It is best if there are no interruptions: we have to think about what she needs.”
Jaime’s stomach lurches. Brienne dying? It is impossible! On their journey through the Riverlands, she had been an indomitable pillar of strength, taking every ordeal squarely on the chin; Vargo Hoat, his men, and the bear all covered in hair. Betraying him without thinking, she had then faced Lady Stoneheart, sword in hand and her blue eyes shining, entirely unafraid.
Brienne cannot die. She is immortal, like the Mother and the Maiden and the Warrior. She cannot die!
“I just need to be there to hold her hand, father. I need to ask her why she stabbed me in the back. She will need a friendly face, she will--“
“Even if the Lady Brienne were well enough for visitors, I could not let you in. On the Quiet Isle, men and women are not allowed to sleep under the same roof unless they are married. You are the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, and Lady Brienne is a maid. It would be entirely improper.”
Jaime wants to shout that he has never cared for what is proper and neither has Brienne - they have bathed together naked before, after all, soaked and scared and spilling secrets - but deep down he knows that is not true. If Brienne were well enough to see him, she would answer his forbidden presence in her chamber with an indignant blush and a lecture about how the brothers have been kind to give their small party hospitality, so it is wrong of him to break their rules.
Imagining her words in his head, Jaime feels entirely chastened.
Chastened by a traitor, he thinks.
“But I--“
“Do you really want to help the Lady Brienne?”
Jaime nods fervently. It makes him feel pathetic, especially considering what she has done to him.
“Then you should attend to her squire.”
Jaime’s brow furrows in confusion. “Her squire?”
“Podrick Payne,” says the Elder Brother. “Lady Brienne has been mentoring him throughout their journey in the Riverlands. I am sure she will be worried to think of him on his own. If you want to be there for her, be there for him.”
For the first time since his arrival on his Quiet Isle, Brienne’s terrified blue eyes are replaced in Jaime’s mind’s eye by Podrick Payne’s chestnut brown ones. In truth, Jaime has not thought of the boy much since their flight from Lady Stoneheart’s lair. It had been Hyle Hunt’s sword that had been most use in getting the gravely injured Brienne out of the Brotherhood’s grasp, Hyle Hunt's two hands in rowing the small skiff along the Trident to the Quiet Isle, and Hyle Hunt's shoulder that had born half Brienne's weight as he and Jaime dragged her to safety of the island's brothers. Jaime had barely paid Podrick any heed. Given the mad terror that had possessed Jaime as he cradled Brienne's broken body close to his chest in the small skiff, he only had one clear memory of Podrick - his big brown eyes, wild and terrified and unseeing, when Hyle had voiced the opinion that Lady Brienne was not long for the world.
“I would rather be here for Brienne than Podrick,” says Jaime. “She is the one who is injured, she is the one who needs me and--“
The Elder Brother puts on a smile that seems oddly sad. “You think the boy doesn’t need you?”
“I barely know him. He was just my brother’s squire, whereas Brienne is my…”
He trails off. He doesn’t have the words.
The Elder Brother does. “He’s a boy. An innocent. Brienne’s squire. My brothers can help her body, but only you can help her soul.” Jaime does not quite understand what the Elder Brother is saying, which only makes the man give him another weary smile. “Brienne would not want her squire to go without a friend, would she? Be there for him in this trying time and, in doing so, be there for her. We will do the rest.”
Jaime can do naught but agree.
Day Two
Jaime spends the night on the floor of one of the men’s huts, sharing with Ser Hyle and Podrick. The brothers have provided the three of them with motheaten sheepskins to keep warm. Jaime appreciates the gesture, but his sheepskin still lets in a chill that prevents him from dropping off. In contrast, Ser Hyle takes his and falls asleep under it in a heartbeat. Although his life had been very much at risk during their confrontation with the undead Lady Stark, the hedge knight had taken it all in his stride. While Jaime's mind is filled with images of Brienne's tortured face, Hyle sleeps soundly, and Jaime cannot help but envy his robustness.
As the wind raps against the shutters, it brings with it a whimpering, a sound that should only belong to an injured animal or lost child. Yet Jaime knows it does not. Curled within that sound is something familiar, a sweet, delicate cry that tells Jaime that it is Brienne who is weeping, Brienne who is in pain, Brienne who is calling out for someone to help her. Sometimes, he thinks he hears his own name wrapped within that awful sound, and it makes his chest ache.
Stupid wench, he thinks. She betrayed me and yet I still care.
I am a fool.
The only sound that can compete with Brienne’s weeping is Ser Hyle’s snores, which Jaime thinks would fit perfectly in a pigsty. Wanting to block it out just as much as Brienne’s whimpering, Jaime tries to listen to the other sounds he can hear – the wind, the crackle of the fire, the soft hush of his own breathing.
Podrick’s sniffling.
Jaime sits up, surprised. The young squire is lying over by the fire, his sheepskin pushed off to one side, his back to the rest of the room. For some reason, the sight makes Jaime think of Tommen. Due to Cersei’s tyranny, Tommen often hid from the world when feeling upset, and Jaime cannot help but recognise the same tendency in Podrick. Creeping across the room so not to wake Hyle, Jaime goes to sit beside the fire, just by Podrick’s feet. He expects the boy to sit up at his arrival, but instead the young squire just continues to stare into the flames, wide-eyed and staring. Jaime suddenly wonders if he has gone away inside after the trauma of the confrontation with Lady Stoneheart; in truth, such horrors are too much for a young boy to handle.
"Podrick?"
Nothing.
"Podrick?"
Needing to feel useful, Jaime uses his one hand to shake the boy's leg. He is rewarded with a pair of big dark eyes cast in his direction, all seeing and blind at the same time. "Are you well, lad?" asks Jaime, unsure the best words to use with Brienne's squire. "You don't seem to be sleeping."
Podrick brushes him off. "I'm well, ser."
"Are you sure? I thought I could hear you--"
Crying.
"I am just worried for Lady Brienne, that is all."
At the sound of her name, a spiked, barbed feeling slithers in the pit of Jaime's stomach; he is so angry with her, and yet the mere sound of her name makes him want to weep. "There is no need to worry, lad," says Jaime. "The brothers are with her. They are looking after her."
"But they won't let me see her... and I'm her squire. I should be there for her."
I should be there for her too, Jaime thinks. To ram a knife into her deceitful heart. To hold her close and let her weep against my chest. To kiss her.
"You will be," says Jaime, "when she is better."
Podrick looks up at him, his brown eyes rendered black in the orange light. "I want to be with her now."
"So do I, lad. So do I."
Perhaps comforted by a reflection of his own feelings in someone else, Podrick retreats back under his sheepskin and, closing his eyes, tries to go to sleep.
Jaime only moves away when Podrick is snoring soundly.
Day Three
In the morning, Jaime rises early to find both Podrick and Hyle still asleep, so goes to see the Elder Brother. Of course, he asks whether he can see Brienne. The answer is just what he expects.
"Where is Podrick?"
"Sleeping. I thought I would come and ask to see Brienne before taking breakfast with him."
The Elder Brother smiles, as if he is pleasantly surprised by that revelation. "Well, I cannot let you see Brienne, but I can direct you towards the kitchens. Brother Elbert is making lemon cakes for the children. Mayhaps Podrick will want one?"
"Mayhaps Brienne will want one too."
The Elder Brother's smile fades away and is replaced by a sad expression, one that seems to be hiding many secrets. "I did not want to tell you this, but the Lady Brienne is currently not well enough to eat lemon cakes."
"Not well enough?" asks Jaime, even as everything around him goes strangely dark and cold. "What do you mean she's not well enough? You only had to stitch up her side! Brienne's tough! She can survive anything, she can--"
"Just because somebody is strong it does not mean they can overcome the frailty of the human form. Lady Brienne was suffering from a very serious injury when you brought her here - people do not get up from wounds like that lightly."
If Jaime closes his eyes, he can picture her face - pale, frightened, in pain. He wants to go back in time to when she was lying in his arms on that damned skiff on the Trident and scream at her for putting herself in this ridiculous position. She should not have fought to save his worthless life, she should not have betrayed him, she should not have reached her big, freckled hand into the centre of her chest and grabbed his heart so tightly that the thought of her dying made him want to die too.
"If she's as bad as you claim... you must let me see her." He tries to keep his voice level, but it cracks on the word her. "Somebody needs to be there with her, somebody--"
"I told you, no one can go in there."
"But--"
"But nothing!" At Jaime's obstinacy, the Elder Brother's eyes flash and Jaime suddenly feels like a little boy again, quelling at his father's rage. "Lady Brienne needs rest and the space to recuperate. I will let you see her when she allows it, and not before."
Knowing it is for the best, Jaime is just about to accept the Elder Brother's judgement meekly and mildly, when he truly hears the man's words for the first time: I will let you see her when she allows it, and not before. "She's not that ill, is she?" he asks, barely having the strength to speak given this revelation. "It's just... Brienne does not wish to see me."
For once, the Elder Brother looks chastised. "It is not fair for me to pass judgement on her choices but... no, she does not wish to see you... and I think it is probably wise given everything she has told me."
Everything. What is everything?
"Father, I--"
"Ser Jaime, I think it would be wise if you go and tend to young Podrick," the Elder Brother says. "The Lady Brienne worries for him, and I know it would soothe her to know he is well taken care for. So, please... if you truly want to help, look after the boy."
Knowing there is no way he is going to get past this stone-faced former warrior without resorting to physical violence, Jaime resigns himself to the fact that his lady does not wish to see him and trudges out of the Elder Brother's room, heading instead to the largest of the buildings on the island - the great communal feasting hall where all the monks eat together. As Jaime approaches, he catches the distinct smell of crab stew and cannot help but wonder if Brienne would want some. Maybe he could sneak in and steal a bowl, then climb in through the window of the women's hut in order to spoon feed her? If he did her that kindness, mayhaps she wouldn't insist on their continued separation.
Hate me? he thinks angrily. It should be her that is worried about me hating her! She was the one who betrayed me, she is the one who broke the... the... alliance... we made with one another. She is the one who--
His train of thought is abruptly interrupted by the sight of Hyle Hunt coming out of the feasting hall. Looking happy and sated, Jaime can only conclude that he has eaten his fill of crab stew, yet he cannot stomach how the hedge knight looks so goddamn joyful. Only days ago, Hyle had watched as Jaime cradled Brienne in his arms and told her that they would get her somewhere safe, that she would be well, that she would be taken care of, even as the colour drained from her face. Surely the man should be more upset. Why isn't he having sleepless nights like Jaime, tossing and turning with worry for her?
"Ser Hyle!" calls Jaime, the words out of his mouth before he knows the reason why. "Ser Hyle! Ser Hyle!"
The hedge knight looks around, confused at the source of the sound until he lays his eyes on Jaime. His happy expression dims at once. "Ah, Ser Jaime," he says, the moment they meet face to face. "How can I help you?"
"Where is Podrick?"
Ser Hyle shrugs. "How should I know?"
"We share a hut with him," says Jaime tersely. It is difficult to keep his voice level. "He's a boy who has seen some very traumatic things. Why didn't you bring him with you to break your fast together? Why did you just leave him?"
Ser Hyle shrugs his shoulders for a second time. "I dunno. The lad said he wanted to sleep."
Using all his willpower to resist punching Hyle in the face, Jaime takes a deep breath, his shoulders rising as he did so. "Do you know where Brother Elbert is?"
"Who is Brother Elbert?"
"The monk in charge of managing the food."
Ser Hyle shrugs for a third time, and the repetitiveness of the gesture gets Jaime's back up. "I dunno. Probably in the feasting hall. Why do you want him? He's committed to a vow of silence; he won't talk to you."
Not wanting to waste any more time in conversation with the hedge knight, Jaime strides past Ser Hyle and enters the feasting hall. As he expected, it is both packed and eerily quiet; instead of having a soothing effect, it makes Jaime feel a little tense. Pushing down his fears, he ignores the surprised gazes of the brothers as he marches past and does not say anything until he walks through the door behind the high table. Inside, he finds the kitchen and another group of silent monks frantically preparing lunch. They all look at him with the same bovine gaze.
"Which one of you is Brother Elbert?" asks Jaime.
His answer comes in the form of everyone pointing at a middle-aged man with heavy jowls and a head of carrot red hair. The man says nothing but continues to chop the bright yellow lemon on the table in front of him with a knife as sharp as Oathkeeper.
"I heard you are making lemon cakes for the children," says Jaime. "Is that true?"
The man nods.
"Can I have one? My travelling companion Podrick Payne is a young boy, and I think he needs something to cheer him up. Is it alright if I take one?"
Nodding again, Brother Elbert indicates to the pile of doughy goodness to his left, and then Jaime takes three - as many as he can fit in his one hand.
"Thank you. I'm sure Podrick will appreciate this."
After a journey back across the packed (but silent) feasting hall, Jaime returns to the little hut that he has been calling home for the past few days. Just as Hyle had predicted, Podrick is still there, but he is not asleep. Instead, he is sitting in front of the dwindling fire, his knees tucked under his chin. Jaime does not have to look at him for very long to witness that far-away stare, illuminated by the soft glow of the embers. He recognises it. In times of trouble, Jaime too had surely worn that hundred-yard stare, seeing and seeing but not really looking in favour of being lost inside himself.
Podrick is too young for this, he thinks, as he goes to sit beside the young squire. He is too young for such torments.
Once he has imitated Podrick's position next to the fire, Jaime nudges the boy with his shoulder. It takes a few attempts before Podrick turns to look at him - glassy-eyed and strangely distant - but once he has captured the boy's attention, Jaime stretches his one remaining hand out to offer him the lemon cakes.
"Eat these. They'll make you feel better... help you grip onto the world a little more."
"What if I don't want to, my lord?"
Jaime's heart hurts. It had taken him losing his hand to reach the nadir, but apparently, for Podrick, the sight of his lady knight battered and bleeding after a confrontation for Ser Jaime Lannister's sorry life is enough to push him over the edge.
"Won't you tell me what happened?" asks Jaime, desperate to fill in the details. "So that I can understand... really understand?"
The question seems to provoke Podrick slightly, as his eyes become more alert, and he is drawn back more sharply into the living world. Taking the lemon cakes, he looks up at Jaime with those big dark eyes of his. In their innocence, they momentarily remind Jaime of Brienne.
"I need to see Lady Brienne first," says Podrick, before taking his first mouthful of lemon cake. "I'd need her permission... it's not my story to tell."
Jaime nods, understanding. "I'll get you in to see her, I promise."
Through his mouthful of lemon cake, Podrick manages a smile. "You are a lot like your brother, you know," he says, sugar sweet.
Disarmed, Jaime furrows his brow. "How?"
"You're kind."
Day Four
"If you are not going to let me see her, at least let Podrick. He's very worried about her, and I think it is making him sick."
The Elder Brother's mouth curls into something that resembles a smile. "You are putting Podrick's needs before your own?"
"Yes," says Jaime, even though he feels uncomfortable that such altruistic motives are being pinned on his actions. "The boy lives in terror of what happened, and I know it will help him greatly if he could just see Brienne. She might not want to see me, but surely she can have no problems with seeing the boy?"
For the first time since Jaime's arrival on the Quiet Isle, the Elder Brother reaches out one large but calloused hand and rests it on Jaime shoulder. "I'll see what I can do," he murmurs. "I'll see what I can do."
Day Five
When one of the Elder Brother's acolytes arrives in Jaime, Pod, and Hyle's sleeping hut the following morning to tell them that the Lady Brienne wishes to see Podrick, a small, jealous part of Jaime rears its ugly head.
Why does Brienne want to see him and not me? Jaime thinks. I'm the one she betrayed!
However, the sight of Podrick's face coming alight with joy does much to assuage Jaime's negative feelings, and soon he is telling the young squire to wash his face and brush his hair before going to see his lady. "You want to look presentable, don't you Pod?" Jaime asks, licking his thumb and wiping a smudge of dirt off the young squire's cheek.
"Yes, ser!" says Podrick, flushed. "Do you think I could find another cloak? My one is quite dirty."
Jaime hassles the monks until they bring Podrick a woollen cloak dyed deep blue to keep him warm, and the moment he sees the boy in it, he cannot help but feel a strange sense of warmth lodging at the centre of his soul. Brienne's eyes are blue so - with the young squire draped in blue - Jaime can imagine that Podrick is once more under her protection.
A part of Jaime wishes he were under her protection too.
"I'll tell you everything she says," declares Podrick, the ardent nature of his promise evident in his firm gaze, "and I'll even tell her that you are anxious to see her too. I'll try and persuade her, I promise."
Jaime smiles at the boy, thankful for this little bit of help, but deep down he thinks that this stuttering, scared squire will not be able to convince Brienne to let Jaime in. For some reason, Brienne is choosing to keep him locked behind a door; perhaps it is fear, perhaps it is guilt, but either way Jaime knows there is no way that plaintive pleading from her squire will make Jaime's stubborn wench change her mind.
Once Podrick goes off to see Brienne, Jaime is left with just the peace of the Quiet Isle for company. Suddenly, it is anything but tranquil; it is downright infuriating. As he leaves the hut that he shares with Podrick and Hyle, Jaime remembers the fight he had had with Brienne back in the Riverlands when he was still in possession of two hands. It had been so easy to despise her then, to cut a little wound into her thigh and take pleasure at the red bloom of blood that followed. How have his feelings changed so dramatically? Why can't he bring himself to hate her? Why does her betrayal hurt more than Cersei's had?
He watches the sky drifting from blue to white and back again, wondering what he would say to Brienne if Podrick is successful in persuading her to see him. Reeling through hundreds of questions, he finds himself settling on the same one over and over again.
Why, Brienne? Why?
Later, when he returns to sit by the fire in the sleeping hut, Podrick gives him an answer... of sorts.
"She's on the mend. The brothers have stitched up the wound on her side and set her broken bones, and she is looking stronger every day. They are keeping her dosed up on milk of the poppy, but she is lucid enough to sit up and have a conversation. She still looks a bit pale, though... I think that might be because she is heartsore more than anything else."
Jaime narrows his eyes in confusion. "Heartsore? About what?"
"About you, ser."
"Me?" asks Jaime, his eyes going wide. "What have I done? She won't even see me!"
"She thinks you are angry at her, ser."
"Angry?" The understatement is profound, and it makes Jaime laugh, black and bitter. "Of course I am angry with her. She betrayed me and tried to lead me to my death; she would have been happy to see me hanged!"
Podrick shakes his head so vehemently that the brownness of his eyes almost become a blur. "No! She didn't want you dead... she doesn't want you dead. She would have died for you."
Jaime cannot deny that. When Lady Stoneheart had passed her sentence over him, Brienne had stood in front of him, blocking his body with her own. She had declared that she would fight for him, even though she had a broken arm and looked more beaten and bloodied than Jaime had ever seen her. Even if her bravery had just been a strange form of penance for her, the sight of his lady with Oathkeeper in her hand, sworn to protect him, had made him believe the knights of old were reborn again.
Of course, she still would have died if the wolf pack had not interrupted.
"That was only after she brought me to Stoneheart," says Jaime, his darkness bleeding into his tone. "She was an active participant in serving me up like a lamb to slaughter."
Podrick shakes his head again, this time so animatedly that Jaime barely recognises him as the boy who has spent hours staring into the fire, whey-faced and wide-eyed. "No! She didn't want to do that! She would have died for you! When Stoneheart first captured us, she put a noose around Lady Brienne's neck and threatened to kill her unless she picked up her sword and brought you to her. She refused, and chose death."
Jaime blinks uncomprehendingly. "She... chose to die?"
"Yes," says Podrick. "Stoneheart put a noose around Ser Hyle's neck too, and ignored him when he offered to do the deed. She wanted Brienne to do it as punishment for betraying her, but she refused, even when Ser Hyle was going to die."
Confused and unsure, Jaime grabs for the only thing in this sea of disorientating information that he knows to be true: "but if she was going to let Hyle die for me, how is it that you, Brienne, and Hyle are still alive?"
As an answer, Podrick lifts up his chin, and for the first time Jaime sees the jagged red line ringed around his throat. He has enough experience to instantly recognise the wound as a rope burn.
"Stoneheart... hanged you?"
Podrick nods. "Yes. And Lady Brienne could not stand that. She was prepared to sacrifice herself for you, but not me. So, if you are angry with anyone, it should be with me, not her. It is only because of me that she could not die for you in the first place. It is only because of me that she could not do her knightly duty."
Day Six
How is Jaime meant to accept this news?
Brienne - his bold, brave Brienne - with a noose around her neck, willing to give up her own life for his. Brienne, standing before Lady Stoneheart, fighting for him until her last breath. Brienne, agreeing to the death of a hardened sellsword but putting the life of an innocent, traumatised boy before Jaime's own. Brienne, thinking such self-sacrificial bullshit is what Jaime wants from her.
Brienne. Brienne, Brienne, Brienne.
As he walks across the isle searching for inner peace, Jaime sees a cemetery in the distance - festooned with dying flowers - in which a man is digging graves. The figure is a giant black shadow against the early morning light, and Jaime cannot help but wonder if the man would be digging Jaime Lannister's grave if Brienne were not always here to protect him.
Brienne, why won't you see me?
Brienne, why don't you want me?
Brienne, don't you know I would never want you to put my life before your own?
Brienne, Brienne, Brienne.
Even though winter is here, the Quiet Isle is a beautiful place, and Jaime cannot help but think that, if he were ever to get married, it is here he would want to make his vows, the only vows that would ever matter in his sorry life. Closing his eyes, he thinks of putting a Lannister cloak around his bride's shoulders and melting into her as she gives him a soft, sweet smile that tells him this means just as much to her as it does to him.
Feeling awed, Jaime leans into kiss her, and cannot help but smile when he sees her blue eyes fill up with the joy of it all.
He stops walking abruptly.
Blue eyes. Not green.
The world shifts.
Day Seven
"Lady Brienne wanted me to tell you that she is ready to see you now, Ser Jaime."
Abandoning the crab stew that he is in the middle of eating, Jaime looks up at the Elder Brother, alarmed. As he is the only brother on the island who is allowed to talk, the Elder Brother's announcement is projected around the feasting hall with such volume that several people turn to look. Mirroring Jaime, Podrick and Hyle also look up from their food; Podrick looks elated, Hyle confused.
"Now?" asks Jaime, dropping his spoon. "Right now?"
The Elder Brother nods. "Lady Brienne is still weak, but I believe young Podrick has convinced her of the merits of seeing you. And I happen to agree it would be good for her spirit."
In gratitude, Jaime turns to the young squire to give him a nod of thanks. Podrick returns the gesture with an awkward blush and a closed-lipped grin through a mouthful of crab stew. Hyle, of course, has nothing to say, but Jaime does not care for his opinion anyway and is on his feet in a heartbeat.
"Take me to her, father," says Jaime, not caring that the entire monastic community has their eyes on him, or that his voice is dripping with the kind of naked sincerity that his old self would have laughed at. "Is she still in pain? Is there anything I can bring her?"
The Elder Brother shakes his head. "I think the lady will just be happy with your presence."
Forgetting everything but thoughts of Brienne, Jaime leaves Hyle and Podrick to their food and follows where the Elder Brother leads. The sky is grey and overcast - winter is coming, the Starks would say - but Jaime does not even notice it. Every and all paths lead to Brienne, and in a sudden moment of earth-shattering clarity Jaime realises they perhaps have been all his life.
"Please try not to alarm her," says the Elder Brother in a hushed voice when they finally reach the door to Brienne's hut. "I know she pretends to be tough but... given everything she has been through... she is still fragile."
Jaime wants to tell him that he has always known his wench is fragile, but somehow his knowledge of Brienne seems to be something that should only be shared between them, not with a contemplative monk who hoards knowledge like a dragon hoards gold.
"I will be gentle."
Like she was with me at Harrenhal, he thinks
At that declaration, the Elder Brother nods, then steps aside so Jaime can reach the heavy handle of the door into Brienne's hut. Jaime breathes deeply. Somehow, it is difficult to open the door; it is not because the latch is heavy, but because his heart is weighing down into his boots, making his feet stick to the ground. Brienne, with her light and her honour and her never ending goodness, scares him and awes him at the same time. How could he face her after everything she has done for him? Yet despite his fears, Jaime knows he owes Brienne so, steeling himself, he pushes open the door. The Elder Brother - perhaps wisely - closes it behind him.
The morning light bathes the small room in a honey glow, highlighting the glittering rubies and polished blade of Oathkeeper, which is standing propped against a wall. Jaime does not look at the bejewelled sword, however, because his eyes are only for Brienne. She is lying in her bed, her eyes closed, the sunlight catching in her hair. As ever, she is freckled all over, but there is now a milky pallor to her skin that hadn't been there before. In an instant, Jaime can see she is not well, and his stomach sinks in mounting horror.
Not knowing what else to do, he sits down on the stool by her bedside, and takes her hand.
"Wench," he begins, before correcting himself, "Brienne. Are you there, my lady?"
He gets no response, not even a fluttering of her eyelids. Jaime sighs and squeezes her fingers. Somehow, it makes him feel closer to her.
"The Elder Brother said you wanted to see me, is that true? Because I've wanted to see you, Brienne. At first, it was because I was angry at you. After everything we have been through together, I could not understand how you would be so willing to sacrifice me to Lady Stoneheart. I thought we... protected each other, you and I... stood by each other... cared for each other. And yet you were willing to serve me up to the noble Lady Stark, like cattle to the slaughter. I'm sick of lies, Brienne, and I never expected them from you."
Jaime takes another deep breath and watches as the sun warms her pale skin, kissing her scars where he cannot. "I cannot get the image of you on that boat out of my head, hurt and weak and broken. I held you in my arms, gave you all the little scraps of warmth I could, and prayed for you. I prayed, Brienne. Me. I never pray... except for you. My saviour, my protector, my--"
She opens her eyes, bright and blue and as wide as the sea.
"Oh," he teases softly, "you are awake."
In spite of his softness, Brienne does not laugh. Instead, tears well in her eyes, and she tries to pull her hand away. That hurts more than anything, so Jaime holds on tight, unwilling to let her go. At that gesture, she crumples, closing her eyes in an attempt to avoid it all.
"I am sorry, Jaime." The tears begin to roll down her cheeks, sparkling like dew in the morning. If he still had his other hand, he would wipe them away. "I'm so sorry. I did not know what to do. She was going to kill Pod. He is an innocent boy, and I couldn't--"
He makes a hushing sound, which causes her to open her eyes again. To Jaime, it is like the sun rising.
"Podrick told me what happened. That's a brave young man you've got there, Brienne. A credit to you."
She shakes her head vehemently, causing more tears to fall. "Whatever he said, it's not the truth. I betrayed you, Jaime and I am sorry. So sorry. I did not know what to do... it felt like I was caught between two impossible choices, and I tried my best to find a third way... but there was no third way. It was you or an innocent boy of twelve. What could I have done other than I did?"
It is a question he has asked himself many times over the years, every time he thinks of Aerys. In the face of wildfire, what choice had Jaime had other than to kill his liege lord? The teeming millions of innocent people of King's Landing or his king? In retrospect, it had been a hard choice to make, but also incredibly easy. He wonders if it was the same for Brienne when she had to choose between the hated Kingslayer and an innocent boy of twelve; he imagines so, as they are knit of the same cloth.
"Nothing," says Jaime. "You made the only choice that could have been made."
Brienne's eyes go impossibly wide at those words, so wide that Jaime fears he will drown in them. In this light, she is the most wonderful woman he has ever seen. "But... you can't think that. I betrayed you, I hurt you, I put you in danger, I--"
"And then you stood between me and the executioner's blade with Oathkeeper held high, using the last ounce of strength you had to defend me. If only I had been so brave after killing Aerys, instead of sitting on the Iron Throne waiting for my judges, perhaps the wildfire wouldn't still be there now."
"Nothing was braver than that," says Brienne forcefully, finally sounding alive. "Nothing. You saved the entire population of King's Landing at the cost of your honour. Never doubt what you did was brave."
In spite of himself, Jaime's heart warms at her words. He has spent so many years being hated for his finest act that he drinks in her compliment, letting it pour all over him, as he tries not to blush. "Yet it is not me who is the perfect knight, Brienne. It is you." Wanting to comfort her, Jaime is horrified to see tears welling in Brienne's eyes once more. He leans closer and speaks to her in a hush, in the way a lover murmuring sweet words would. "Brienne... listen to me."
"Why don't you hate me?"
Jaime's heart nearly stops. "What?"
"Why don't you hate me?" she asks again, utterly sincere. "I betrayed you, I--"
"Podrick told me that you tried to sacrifice yourself for me."
She nods, pained. "But I failed at that too. Lady Stoneheart baited me with Podrick, so I couldn't go through with it. I'm sorry; it should have been me facing her wrath, not you. Never you."
Cersei used to say that she and Jaime were two halves of one whole, and that they were born together so should die together. Once, that had seemed an intensely romantic proposition, but now Jaime sees it for what it really is. Cersei had only meant that she did not want him to live beyond her, and that he should not flourish and grow without her beside him. After years of living under Cersei's shadow, Jaime could not imagine thinking something so terrible about Brienne.
"I don't want you to die for me," he says. "I want you to live, Brienne. Live."
At his words, her despair is wiped away and replaced by confusion.
"Why?"
He can only answer her with a kiss. Just as he has imagined, Brienne's lips are pillowy and soft, and she opens her mouth on a sigh as she lifts her head from the pillow to be closer to him. There is something innocent and tentative about her kiss, but also sweet. Scooping his prosthetic hand behind her head, Jaime holds her close as he begins to kiss deeper, teasing the tip of her tongue with his own. It encourages her and soon she is kissing him back; harder, firmer, more passionately. Lost in her kiss, all his anger and pain fades until it is nothing but an echo of a forgotten memory.
"Jaime!" Brienne gasps when she finally pulls away.
Jaime smiles. The sun, moon, and all the stars are in her eyes.
"I don't want you to die for me because the world is a much worse place without you in it," he says. "So live Brienne..."
Live, he thinks, and love me.