Chapter Text
Chapter 1
He waited until she was fully healed from the wounds she sustained in the confrontation with the dead Lady Catelyn Stark before setting off, away from the Quiet Isle. At the time, Jaime figured it was the last amount of kindness he’d show her before walking away from her forever. But no. The stupid stubborn ugly wench decided she had to come with him, to escort him back to Pennytree or wherever in this godsdamn kingdom he wanted to go.
Not that he had any idea of where he wanted to go, truth be told. It was almost a full moon since the wench approached him under the false story that she’d found the Stark girl being held by The Hound. He’d left without leaving a word as to where he was going when he followed her, assuming that he’d be back in a few days’ time. And, because he trusted her. Foolish Lannister.
He wasn’t keen on getting back to the war in the Riverlands or wherever it was that the Lannister army may be now. Jaime was tired of the fighting and his feelings of aging were physically manifested in the increasing amount of silver in his beard and hair. Moons prior, Jaime would have taken this opportunity to run back to King’s Landing and into his sweet sister’s bed.
Along with Lancel and Osmund Kettleblack and probably Moon Boy, Jaime thought bitterly. Casterly Rock was also an option he supposed but he didn’t feel any warm feelings or a particularly strong draw to the Rock. So that left him, wandering around in the wilderness of Westeros, once again, with the Maid of Tarth.
He glanced over his shoulder. Dour Brienne was still riding along on her horse behind him, shoulders hunched like a chastised child. Jaime wondered if she knew he was wandering aimlessly, unsure of where to go, where he belonged now.
Brienne had barely said anything since they left the Quiet Isle a few days ago. She didn’t even ride beside him, choosing instead to ride behind him in sulking silence. He supposed he was partially to blame for her silence and humiliation. When the truth of her betrayal was revealed, he had said some unkind words to her and even after they were victorious, he didn’t speak to her for days. Even when she tried to speak to him, he gave her nothing but sharp words and glares.
And yet her sourness now vexed him.
“You know, wench, I’m beginning to think the gods think this is some great jape,” Jaime said loud enough for her to hear without him turning around. “Putting you and me together as traveling companions for the second time? What a ridiculous pair we make! Maybe bards will sing songs of us–The Kingslayer and The Maid of Tarth!”
When Brienne didn’t respond, he looked over his shoulder once more. She was staring at him with those eyes again but when their eyes met, she quickly looked away.
Jaime sighed and faced forward again. He didn’t like this new, quiet Brienne. The last time they were traveling through the Riverlands she had some fire to her. Though he constantly mocked her, she was quick to fire back and he later came to realize he quite enjoyed trading barbs with her. But nothing could compare to the joy he felt when they’d crossed blades. It had been the last time he’d ever held a sword properly. He let his mind wander back to that fight, replaying every kiss of their blades and even imagining how the fight could have ended up, were they never interrupted.
The wench would have gotten the better of me. Then, that realization would have filled him with shame and horror. Now though…
“Ser Jaime,” Brienne’s voice broke into his thoughts. “There is a village to the south.”
Jaime looked to his right. Just off in the distance, peaking between the trees, he could see the smoke of chimneys and the lights of lanterns. They hadn’t traveled due east enough to reach Maidenpool nor were they south enough to have gotten past God’s Eye. “Do you know the name of the village?”
“No.”
He considered the village. It looked small and was fairly remote so the possibility that anyone would recognize his face would be slim. The smart decision would be to see if the village had a place for them to rest for the night. The sun was beginning its descent and he was not in the mood to spend another night sleeping in the dirt. “It seems we have a place to rest for the evening. Come on then.”
They nudged their horses off the imagined pathway they were following and started towards the village. Before long, Jaime and Brienne were riding slowly down the village’s main road.
The village was small, the main road having most of the shabby buildings along it. The homes were set back away from the road but something about it didn’t feel right. Jaime looked at the faces of the villagers as he passed, trying to determine what was giving him this uneasy feeling. They all looked right back at him, haunted and suspicious. One of them openly gawked at the wench and Jaime felt the strange urge to backhand the man for looking at her.
Brienne made a clicking noise and urged her horse forward so that they were riding side by side. Judging by the look on her face, she felt the same unease that he did.
“Ser Jaime,” Brienne whispered, leaning close to him. “Have you noticed?”
“You need to be more specific, wench,” Jaime said, looking around. “I notice a lot of things or is there something specific you are referring to that you won’t tell me until it is too late as seems to be your game these days?”
The wench’s mouth dropped open, her blue eyes round with hurt. Seeing her astonishing eyes look so sad pulled at his insides in a way that made him uncomfortable. He was about to apologize when she blinked, her expression changing into one of determination. “There are no young girls or ladies around.”
He hadn’t noticed, but now that the wench said something, that was what was giving him pause. The few people who were milling about were boys and men of all ages. He spotted a crone here and there but the wench was right. No young girls or women in sight. “That’s…strange.”
“Perhaps they are worried about rapers,” Brienne suggested, looking around. A dark look crossed her features. “Maybe the Brave Companions came through here sometime back.”
“Hmmm.”
They continued forward, passing buildings that looked like they’d seen better days. Eventually, next to the village’s small sept was an inn. Jaime reached into the pouch at his waist and felt the dragons and stags with his fingers. A town back, he’d traded his golden hand for its weight in coins.
Both Jaime and Brienne tied their horses off before entering the inn. The door opened into a common room with a bar on one side and a large fireplace on the other. A few scattered tables filled in the open space and there was a staircase that presumably led to the rooms on the second floor. Just like the wench had mentioned outside, it was predominantly men or elderly women in the tavern.
“Go get us a table,” Jaime told Brienne. “I’ll get us a room for the night.”
Brienne gave a curt nod and squeezed through the tables towards the back of the room as Jaime watched her.
The Maid of Tarth and The Kingslayer...beginning their next adventure...hopefully the first of many.
Jaime frowned at the unbidden thought and shook his head to clear it. He sighed heavily and turned towards the bar.