Archive of Our Own

Jaime

Jaime Lannister was extremely confused.

Confused, tired, and a little drunk.

The alcohol might play a significant part in it, he reflected. It seemed, against all probability, that he was free from that miserable dungeon. Finally away from the endless darkness, loneliness and extremely limited space to move in. He had been led along some dizzying stairs, almost falling twice, bundled into an old coat, and shoved into this boat. And here he was, the wind silently stroking over his face, the Red Fork softly lapping at the sides of the boat, and the stars shining above.

Jaime couldn’t stop an idiotic grin spreading on his face, a feeling of elation coursing through him. He slightly lifted his head and looked around, and his eyes fell on her.

Lady Brienne of Tarth. the maid of Tarth – well, a maid no longer, he had thoroughly made sure of that, what felt like ages ago. Which made it even more confusing that she was here, now, apparently tasked by Lady Catelyn Stark herself to escort him back home, and into freedom. How had she possibly managed that?

He tried to meet her eyes, tried to formulate the question, but his swimming head was fighting against him, and she was staring straight ahead, not wavering from her task of steadily rowing alongside cousin Cleos, who for some reason Jaime’s alcohol-addled brain didn’t entirely understand was also accompanying them. Both of them were busy rowing, and for a moment Jaime’s eyes caught on where he knew the muscles must be moving in Brienne’s arms, invisible in the scant starlight and wrapped in several layers of clothing, but definitely there.

Muscles like cords of steel, and a stamina to put an oxen to shame, all wrapped around an exceedingly shy but honest personality. That was Lady Brienne of Tarth.

Still smiling, Jaime let his head sink back again, staring at the stars, trying to find out what had blessed him so. He blinked, the stars swimming in front of his eyes, blinked again, and fell asleep.

He was rudely awakened by something wet splashing into his face, and for a few minutes he was certain that he was back in his cell deep under Riverrun, and someone was trying to taunt him by flicking at best water at him.

Then his eyes opened and he looked at a grey sky, pink tendrils creeping in from the horizon, and realised that it was starting to rain, and he was out in the open on a boat on the Red Fork. And of course it was starting to rain. Fucking Riverlands.

Another drop of rain hit him in the face, this time directly below his nose, and Jaime sneezed.

“Quiet!”, Brienne hissed at him.

Jaime blinked, and sat up.

His memories of the last evening were not quite clear, but he was pretty certain that they had left not too long after sundown, yet Brienne and Cleos were still rowing steadily.

Cleos looked tired, his eyes drooping and his movements a bit sluggish, but Brienne was still going steady as if rowing through an entire night did not even leave an impression on her. In the grey morning light, Jaime could see the corded muscles in her legs and arms, and could not help remembering how it had felt being wrapped up in them. The memory of the last time he had seen her sent a jolt of arousal through him.

If only I hadn’t left her bed that night, he thought wistfully. A second later, another rain drop hit Jaime on the nose, and he yelped.

Brienne stared at him angrily.

“Yes, I heard you. Quiet.”, Jaime said, then cleared his throat, rough from disuse. Brienne continued to glare at him without pausing the regular strokes of her oar, and again Jaime got distracted. He could freely admit that he had missed her steady, serious and single-minded company. And her strength and stamina were immensely stimulating.

“What?”, Brienne hissed, interrupting his moment of quiet contemplation and very pleasant remembrance.

Jaime put on his sunniest smile and threw it in her direction.

“Nothing.”, he said. “You must be tired. Have you been rowing the entire night? Well, if anyone can do it I suppose it’s you. If you take off my chains, though, I can help. Cousin Cleos seems quiet tired.”

She snorted, and continued to glare, not making any move to free him from the chains around his wrists or ankles.

“Also, it’s starting to rain.”, Jaime added, as the first few drops increased to a soft dripping.

At that, Brienne sighed, and finally took in her oar. Beside her, Cousin Cleos breathed a sigh of relief and slumped back. Brienne, still not betraying any sign of fatigue from her night of labour, jumped up and set up a small sail which immediately started catching the wind.

“Very impressive, wench.”, Jaime said, admiring her. Every move was efficient, smooth and correct. She was unquestionably competent.

“You know my name is…”

“Brienne. I know.”, Jaime grinned. He would have stopped calling her wench long ago, except she always got so very annoyed.

“You’ve got experience with sailing.”

“I’m from Tarth. It’s an island.”, Brienne said, gruffly.

“I know you are from Tarth, my lady.”, Jaime said, laughing. “I’m trying to pay you a compliment. You seem to be a competent sailor.”

She looked at him suspiciously. She always seemed suspicious at compliments, even after they had gotten to know each other better and started to trust one another. He could understand it, after the stories she had shared. Life had clearly not been kind to her and she was not used to people being nice to her without ulterior motives. Yet Jaime had determined over a year ago that he was going to keep complimenting her until she started believing in his seriousness. Not that he was entirely without ulterior motives.

Unfortunately, Jaime was not used to being serious.

Cousin Cleos was slumped in a corner, shaking his arms, but the wind was catching the sails nicely and driving them along, steered by Brienne. Even the rain had stayed at a slightly annoying, but not too bad dripping. Jaime cleared his throat.

“I don’t know if you noticed, wench, but I’m still in chains. I’m sure we can all agree I’ll be much more helpful if I’m a little less...restricted.”

“The chains stay on.” She threw him a short glance, then immediately looked ahead again. Jaime was sure she started to blush, which was delightful. He hadn’t even gotten started.

He pouted.

“Don’t you trust me, wench?”

She refused to even look at him, though he could swear her blush had gotten a bit darker.

“Well, in that case, can I have a knife?”

She opened her mouth, possibly just to be contradictory, so he beat her to it.

“To shave, wench. If I’m in chains, let me at least change my appearance a bit. A bald man with a golden beard might be less quickly to be assumed Jaime Lannister. Though I am sure you will miss my lush golden locks.”

Not that his hair resembled anything lush after a year in that dreadful dungeon without a chance to wash, brush or even get rid of fleas or lice. He anyway tried to give her another salacious smile but she was still starting ahead, her posture betraying no swaying of her decision. At least she consented to let Cousin Cleos help him shave off the hair and shorten and neaten his beard. He already felt a bit better, though he desperately longed for a bath and some fresh clothes.

Afterwards, Jaime sidled a bit closer to Brienne, again admiring her form.

“So, how come you work for Lady Catelyn, wench?”

He saw her opening her mouth and amended: “Brienne, I know. How do you even know her?”
“I don’t work for her. I merely agreed to exchange you against her daughters. They are innocent girls and should be back with their mother.”

Jaime tried to show a degree of indignation.

“Did you not come for me, then, wench?”

This time there was no questioning her blush, but she didn’t answer.

“When I negotiated with Tyrion, he promised to deliver Sansa and Arya Stark in exchange for you.”, Cousin Cleos piped in. Jaime flinched, he had forgotten about his cousin’s presence.

“He promised that now?”, he asked incredulously.

“It was part of the negotiations shortly after you were taken, cousin.”, he said. “Robb Stark was not willing to make the exchange, but Lady Catelyn recently changed her mind after she heard of the death of her two younger sons.”

“Ah.”, Jaime said blankly, Brandon Stark’s frightened but trusting face appearing in his mind. He would not forget it quickly.

“So Lady Sansa and Lady Arya are in King’s Landing then.”

“I only saw Lady Sansa.”, Cleos admitted. “Rumour has it that Lady Arya has not been seen in over a year.”

Jaime raised an eyebrow. “So she’s gone, most likely dead, but even if she’s alive, Tyrion will hardly be able to hand her over in exchange for me. That seems like an issue.” He glanced at Brienne.

“I will deliver you to King’s Landing. I’ll make sure the girls are safe with Lady Catelyn in exchange.”, she said with a voice not allowing for any doubts.

“How are you going to do that if nobody knows where Arya is?”, Jaime demanded.

“I will worry about that after I’ve safely delivered you to King’s Landing.”

“And then?”

“Do not worry, cousin, I am sure it will be fine.”, cousin Cleos said.

“Fine? Have you met the wench?”, Jaime asked. “She’s the most stubborn, single-minded being I’ve ever met. She was tasked with bringing me to King’s Landing to exchange for the Stark girls, so she’s going to get me to King’s Landing, and if she has to drag me by the hair, and if the girls are not there, I’d not be surprised if she drags me all the way back again.”

“There’s no need to be hysterical, Ser Jaime.”, Brienne said. “You may stay in King’s Landing as long as you like. I will ensure that the girls are with Lady Stark.”

Jaime snorted. “I know you will not give up until your last breath, but even you can’t work miracles, wench. Or find little girls hidden somewhere in Westeros, who have most likely already been dead for a while.”

“Do you know Lady Brienne?”, cousin Cleos asked sounding confused.

Jaime snorted again.

“Know her? But yes, I do! Intimately!”, he threw another salacious look at Brienne, but she was still staring straight ahead, not reacting aside from the blush that seemed to have settled permanently. Cousin Cleos was still looking confused. Jaime sighed.

“Lady Brienne won the melee at the Hand’s tournament in King’s Landing.”, he explained. “Have you not heard of it? It was quite an event, her swinging a morning star is not a sight you forget quickly. Nor will Thoros of Myr, I expect, who was her last standing opponent. As if a bit of fire could frighten a wench with a morning star.”

That finally got a reaction out of Brienne.

“Why is he even using a flaming sword?”, she asked. “It is dangerous, but doesn’t it do irreparable damage to the sword?”

“It does indeed, wench. Thoros has to get a new sword every time. I guess he likes the effect, or maybe it is some sort of service to his red god, not that Thoros was ever the most devout man. The stories I could tell you...anyway, the flaming sword does give him an additional advantage, and he is not a bad fighter in general.”

She frowned. “Sandor Clegane was quite frightened by it.”, she admitted. “But then he fears fire more than the average man, thanks to his brother.”

“His brother?”, Jaime asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Lady Sansa told me...nevermind.”

“You met Lady Sansa?”

“It doesn’t matter. I learned that his brother was responsible for his scar, and not with justified cause.”

Brienne was hiding something. Unfortunately, while she had no talent whatsoever for deception and lies, she could be quite stubborn in withholding information. Careful treading was necessary.

“Gregor Clegane is a monster.”, Jaime said, bluntly.

“It is a travesty that he was never held accountable for what happened to princess Elia.”, Brienne said quietly, and that was the point where Jaime suddenly desperately needed to change topic. Brienne was fully aware of what had happened around the death of King Aerys, and it was not a memory he wanted to relive at the moment. That already happened enough in his dreams.

“Anyway, the way you defeated Thoros was magnificent.”, he said brightly, searching for other topics. “As was the way you knocked the sword out of the hands of that Errol boy!”

“Errol…”, Brienne said slowly. “A golden haystack? Wasn’t that the knight who kept tripping whenever you came at him from the left?”

From this point, they slipped into an easy discussion of fighting techniques and battle forms. It didn’t matter that Jaime had already gone with her through everything he remembered from her fight in that melee a year ago, the memory was still brilliant in his mind and there were always new details worthy of discussion. Combat was something of interest to both of them, and the conversation flowed easily while they passed through the soft rain, along the green banks of the Red Fork. There were no people visible on either side, just a few abandoned-looking shacks, birds and some fish. Jaime barely paid any attention, enjoying instead the easy conversation.

They were interrupted in the middle of a heated discussion on the honour of using dirty tricks in combat by a surprised cry from Ser Cleos who had been napping in the back of the boat. For a moment, Jaime was angry at being interrupted when he was getting along so well with Brienne. On looking around, his eyes fell on a tree by the river that had strange shapes hanging from it, remainders of corpses several weeks old. The unfortunate leftovers of war.

Then Brienne cursed, and he turned around. Another boat was gaining on them, barely visible through the drizzle, but manned by people in armour.

Brienne cursed again, checked the sail, then threw an oar to Ser Cleos, prompting him to help her row to gain speed. Jaime stood at the back end and glanced at what was visible around the loops of the Red Fork and through the trees. “Mud red and watery blue.”, he announced his observation.

Brienne prompted Cleos to row faster. For at least an hour they shot down the river, the red-and-blue sail appearing and disappearing behind the river’s curves, slowly gaining on them. Jaime was aggrieved to discover that they were followed by a river galley with at least nine oars per side.

Just then they swung around a river bend an in front of them appeared an island in the middle of the river. The galley passed from their view, still some way behind them. Brienne jumped up.

“Stop rowing.”, she told Ser Cleos.

“But we’ll get slower…”

“Yes. Take down the sail. Jaime, take an oar and keep us off the rocks.”

Jaime wanted to object, but saw the look in her eyes. Brienne was stubborn as an ox, but she was not stupid. He took the oar and did as he was told, nervously watching the galley gaining on them faster and faster.

Luckily, it seemed Brienne had a plan. She waited as the boat slowed, then jumped off it into the shallow river, wading to the shore and starting to climb up the cliffside. The galley was turning up behind them, and now proving they had archers with them. Jaime shouted, trying to distract the galley’s captain from where Brienne was climbing the cliffside, and almost got hit by a lucky arrow. However, Brienne’s gamble paid off, and he and Ser Cleos watched agog as Brienne managed to dislodge a giant boulder that smashed down the cliffside and hit the galley. Then they were around the corner, and both galley and Brienne disappeared from their sight.

“Brienne?”, Jaime shouted. “Wench?”

He looked around frantically, having half a mind to stop the boat even though it might enable some of the galley’s victims to catch up, when he saw Brienne having taken some shortcut over the island and jumping into the water in front of them. Jaime stretched out an oar and drew her into the boat.

“Wench, that was brilliant!”, he said and barely overcame the desire to kiss her in full view of his cousin.

Unfortunately, Brienne had her mind set on other thing and ignored him in favour of setting up the sail until they were making good speed again.

The constant drizzle was starting to change into full-on rain some hours later when Jaime saw the inn at the riverside.

“The inn had a fine ale when last I passed this way.”, said cousin Cleos. “It does not look open anymore, but mayhaps there is still some in the cellars.”

“Ale or not, there will be beds and it will be dry.”, Jaime said. “And we’d be safer to sleep than on the open river. What say you, wench? I’d even be willing to share the bed, should you wish so.”

She glared at him, but after a moment steered their boat towards the old dock.

The inn was abandoned, as Jaime had thought. While Brienne went in, sword drawn, to ensure that there was no one left, Jaime jumped into the river to finally clean himself, guarded by Ser Cleos. His clothes were still the same old lice-riddled scraps, but it felt good to at least scrub his hands and face clean.

Brienne came back out just as Cleos giving Jaime a hand to climb out of the river again, made more difficult by the chains he still wore.

“There’s a man and a woman – the innkeeper and his wife, I assume – dead by the front door.”, she said. “No one else. The inn was mostly left alone. There is fire wood and I found some apples, onions and stale bread.”

“So we’ll have a warm place to sleep at least, and some rations!”, Jaime exclaimed.

“After we bury the innkeeper and his wife.”, Brienne said.

Jaime did not quite see the point, but as he was not put to shovelling duty on account of the chains Brienne still refused to strike off, he saw no point in complaining either. He managed to start a fire in the main room, then stood in front of it to dry his dripping clothes. He felt good enough that he could not help but smile at Brienne when she returned to the main room, Ser Cleos in tow. To his satisfaction, she smiled back for a few instances before she remembered herself and resolutely looked away.

Why was she so insistent on keeping her distance? They had the same goal, for now, and she had trusted him once. Had all she had heard of him in the mean time swayed her mind? He could hardly believe it, as she had started off with the worst opinion of him anyway. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know what she thought of him now. It would break his heart if the one person who had known his deepest secrets and believed in him lost that trust.

The evening and night passed quietly. They ate a meagre dinner of onion soup with some small rations they found in the cellars, and washed it down with some ale and cider that a deeper search turned up, much to their joy. They then spent the night sleeping in front of the fire, with Jaime wishing desperately he could shuffle closer to Brienne and slip under her blankets, to hold her or be held by her, if nothing else.

The morning, after another round of stale bread, brought another surprise as Brienne led him around the inn to a small smithy and stroke off the chains connecting his ankle and wrist bracelets.

“You swore an oath, and you are going to keep it.”, she said resolutely as he stared at her, astonished. Despite his repeated wheedling, he had been sure she would not see reason in that regard.

Jaime felt his heart flutter to hear her pronounce her trust in him. Still he felt he had to comment. “To return Lady Catelyn’s daughters to her in exchange for my safe return? That seems unlikely, much as I would want to, with Lady Arya missing. And one might question the sanctity of an oath sworn under duress.”

“The oath will be fulfilled.”, Brienne said. “I will deliver you to King’s Landing, and the girls will be back with their mother. You need not worry about that. Your task will be done once we have returned to King’s Landing and you have confirmed the intention.”

Jaime stared at her, noticing her slightly stilted wording. Something was off, but he wasn’t sure what.

“I trust you.”, Brienne added, after a few awkward seconds. “You have not always been...honourable, but you do have honour. You are a good man. You will do the right thing.”

“Thank you, my lady.”, Jaime said, moved. Brienne nodded stiffly and strode off. Jaime tried to grasp her wrist, not knowing what he’d do if he could stop her, but she was faster.

Cousin Cleos saw the missing chains but did not comment.

Unfortunately, their second day down the river by boat was cut short when barely thirty miles downriver they found a number of sunken boats rotting and the silt building up around them, making it impossible for their boat to pass. Brienne tried to find a way quite skilfully, as Jaime told her, but had to admit defeat.

“We’ll continue on foot.”, she said as she steered them to the bank. Jaime insisted on checking what was accessible of the remainders of the ships for anything useful. They did not find food, nor coin, but, to Jaime’s endless joy he dug up a sword, not in the best state but still useful. Brienne watched him with an inscrutable look as he swung it around and exclaimed in delight off the feeling, but didn’t comment, only urged him on to go.

They walked the day along the river, keeping clear of the road. The first day they did not run into any other people. After a while, Jaime began to sing, to keep away the boredom, but mostly to annoy Brienne into paying attention to him. The second part worked, as she hissed at him to keep silent.

“But wench, I am bored. I’ve had enough silence in the last year in that dreadful, lonely dungeon. Might we not at least have the bit of entertainment we can make ourselves?”
“You’d have enough of the silence if you had to sit by yourself in a room for fifteen minutes.”, Brienne said. “And we have to be careful around here. Fights are still going on, and there might be soldiers of either side around. Do you wish to be captured again?”

As she clearly was apprehensive about talking, he left her to keep watch while they walked, and tried to get a conversation going with cousin Cleos. Unfortunately, the man did not have a drop of Lannister blood in him and was quite a dullard. He did get all of the news of the current political situation out of him that he could, though a lot of it was not up to date.

It seemed Robb Stark had gotten through quite some parts of the Riverlands and Westerlands, but had ridden north for the wedding of his uncle Edmure to Roslin Frey after wedding Jeyne Westerling himself. That seemed ill-done for him and certainly did not bode well for house Stark. It also seemed that he was the only son Lady Stark had left because house Greyjoy had betrayed them and killed the younger sons, though news from the north were slow. Lady Arya was, as he had learned before, not to be found for quite some time, though Lady Sansa had been in King’s Landing when Cleos was there. Jaime also learned that his father had held Harrenhal, but his suggestions to go there first did not go over well.

“I am to exchange you against Lady Arya and Lady Sansa in King’s Landing, so that is where we are going.”, Brienne told him.

“I do not think Lord Tywin himself is still in Harrenhal, anyway.”, Cleos said, nervously.

“Last I heard he led the Lannister army against Stannis Baratheon at King’s Landing.”

“Well, whoever is holding Harrenhal now in my father’s name, he’ll at least get us some horses.”, Jaime said annoyed.

“We’ll get horses at Maidenpool.”, Brienne said.

When it started to get dark, they found a sheltered clearing. It was still drizzling slightly, but the ground between some high trees was dry enough, and Jaime even managed to get a fire going while Brienne set out some snares. They ate a few more of their rations, but while Cleos rolled himself into his blankets, offering to take the second watch, Jaime got up and took out his newly acquired sword.

“I haven’t had a sword in much too long.”, he said. “I will need to get the feeling back. What do you think? Care to join, me, wench?”

“My name is...”

“Brienne, I know.”, he added, softer, when he saw her scowling at him. “A round of sparring surely will do both of us some good. For old times sake.”

She hesitated for a bit, but finally got up, asking Cleos to keep watch in the mean time. Together they went through some drills to get warmed up, and then started sparring, watched by a confused Cleos.

It was exhilarating. From the first moment Jaime had seen Brienne during the melee on he had known how incredibly well she moved. She had the instincts of a natural fighter, and an incredible grace and fluidity to her movements, additional to a very good feeling for her opponent. Their swords met, kissed, and parted, left and right, above and below, again and again, clanging and ringing, as they pushed and pulled and tried to find a weakness. She had greater strength and stamina, especially now that he’d been starved and malnourished, but he made up for it with more experience and greater skill, and he found to his delight that his instincts came back quickly.

He lost himself in the dance, concentrating deeply on their fight, and could not keep back his triumphant grin when she was finally forced to yield.

His blood was coursing through his body like wild horses, and she was below him, on her back, looking sweaty and absolutely magnificent, and there was nothing he wanted to do more than kiss her. And well, then a few more things.

Unfortunately the opportunity was broken up by cousin Cleos, who coughed, and then asked if he should take first watch after all or if Brienne wanted it. Jaime, being ostensibly still a prisoner, was apparently not considered.

Brienne took the first watch, but refused to let him close again. Jaime tried to strike up a conversation, but found her reverted to brooding. Finally he gave up, rolled himself into his old cloak and went to sleep.

The next day it rained again, as was usual in the Riverlands. They trudged along the road, to tired to fight through the mud besides it. It was only thanks to Brienne’s constant vigilance that they heard the riders before they came upon them.

Unfortunately, they still weren’t quite fast enough disappearing into the side brushes and the riders stopped, demanding they showed themselves. At that moment, cousin Cleos stumbled. Immediately an arrow flew in his direction and Jaime heard him cry out and fall.

Jaime and Brienne exchanged a look hidden behind some low bushes as three of the riders dismounted, leaving their reigns in the hands of another and came closer.

The second the three men were in range, Brienne and Jaime were on them. It wasn’t a long fight, luckily, as only the shrubs and the thickly falling rain prevented Jaime and Brienne from being pierced by wildly flying arrows. Jaime’s sword wasn’t sharp enough to do serious damage and broke clean through sometime during the fight, but he still got in some mean hits while Brienne finished the people off with well-placed strikes.

As soon as the men were down, they retreated behind some trees, breathing heavily.

They heard the remaining riders conversing, calling the names of their companions. There was no answer. Jaime and Brienne waited anxiously to see if they would try to follow them into the shrubs which were thick enough here they’d have to leave the horses. Apparently the riders knew so too. A few more arrows flew harmlessly in their direction, but no one else dismounted.

“Leave them, they are dead.”, they finally heard one of them say. “It’s not worth the risk.”

With that, the riders turned and galloped off, unfortunately taking the three now riderless horses with them.

They waited a few more minutes before leaving carefully. All three men were quite dead, as was cousin Cleos. The arrow had only wounded him, but he had fallen very unfortunately and apparently broken his neck on hitting a rock.

“We do not bury them.”, Jaime said. “People now know we are here. They might come back with reinforcement.”

“He is your cousin!”, Brienne said, but conceded the point. They settled on dragging Cleos’ corpse a few metres into the shrubs and covering him with a few thicker branches and leafs. Jaime also searched through the dead attackers, coming away with two small coin pouches, three knifes, a sword in a better state than his rust-eaten broken river-find and some clothes that were in a better state than his. Brienne did not leave him the time to change, but he packed them up tightly for later before they left.

They struggled along slowly through rain, shrubs and mud, unwilling to brave the road directly again. The rain only lessened when dusk was falling and they found a halfway sheltered spot between some rocks where they did not dare starting a fire, instead eating some of the hard tack and apples they had found at the inn. Afterwards Jaime got up, noting that it wasn’t quite dark yet and started stretching. He grinned at Brienne.

“Well, wench?”

“It’s getting dark. And we need to be careful.”, she said uncertainly.

“And we need the practice, as today clearly showed.”, Jaime countered and coaxed her up.

Once they started sparring, all uncertainty fell from Brienne. It was the same exhilaration as the previous day, Jaime’s blood singing as he swung his sword, blocking, attacking and looking for a weak point, except this time when he finally managed to disarm Brienne, there was no Cleos to distract them or stop Jaime from kissing Brienne.

She took but a moment to react, just as if she also had felt the thrum of desire during their dance. Then her arms were around him and she drew him closer, answering the kiss with abandon.

Afterwards, they lay sheltered by the rocks looming in the dark, and Jaime had his arms tight around her.

“Wench?”, he asked. For once she didn’t correct him, just made an annoyed noise and wiggled as if to get away from him. Jaime tightened his arms and she gave up, snuggling closer.

“What are you not telling me?”, Jaime asked.

Brienne froze. Well, that was an admission of guilt if there ever was one.

“Nothing.”, she said. Jaime laughed.

“You are very clearly hiding something and it has to do with why you trust me unchained.”, he said. “Don’t even try lying, wench, you’ve never had a talent for it.”

“The ability to lie is not an achievement.”, she said indignantly.

“Don’t change the topic. Do you trust me or not?”

“I do trust you!”, she exclaimed. Jaime waited.

“You’re a good man, Jaime. You have honour. You would do the right thing.”

“Would?”, Jaime asked suspiciously.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Wench…”

“Stop calling me that!”
“Brienne, then. What are you hiding?”

She squirmed a bit, then hid her face against his neck.

“It doesn’t matter what you decide.”, she said muffled. “The oath will be fulfilled, whether you intend it or not. So you don’t need to worry about it.”

Jaime thought about this for a bit.

“Do you have something else against Tyrion? Cersei? My father? Why are you so sure my involvement is unimportant?”

“Your involvement is important!”, Brienne insisted. “This is about you! I swore to free you from that dungeon, and I did.”

“Of course you did.”, Jaime sighed. “You shouldn’t have sworn so, Brienne, but then, how can I deny that you succeeded? I can hardly complain.”

“Good. Don’t.”, she said firmly. “You take the first watch.”

And she turned her back on him, clearly signalling the end of the discussion.

Jaime took the first watch.

The next weeks on their way to Maidenpool passed similarly. They passed the days trudging miserably along, never daring to brave the road again, but neither daring to get to far away from it lest they got lost, while it rained sometimes so thick they could barely see the trees in front of them, sometimes barely a drizzle, but seldom stopping. They heard horses whinnying on the road two or three times and both times hid in the bushes until the riders were gone, but otherwise were alone. They made camp every day before it got too dark, supplementing their diet with some rabbits they managed to trap, as well as a duck Brienne caught in a net she had with her, and spent the darkening hours sparring, one way or the other.

All in all, Jaime was quite happy, which did not stop him from complaining about the constant rain, their meagre rations, the hard ground they slept on, the manacles still around his wrists and ankles even without the chains connecting them, and Brienne’s unwillingness to entertain him while they trudged along, as well as anything else that crossed his mind to complain about. Brienne sighed, glared and ignored him, but he caught her smiling or blushing from time to time, which did nothing to discourage him.

Jaime could not have said how much time had passed when they finally saw the lights of Maidenpool in the distance, gloomy in the constant rain. They paused at the side of the road to discuss how to approach the place, which was of course when they were attacked.

The initial attack was short and brutal; at least half a dozen men came at them all at the same time and Jaime and Brienne could just lift their swords. They were swiftly pressed back until they had a huge rock in their back, at which point their attackers stepped back and called a halt to the fight. There was one lying on the ground, dead, and eight still in front of them.

Jaime stood there, sword in his hand, considering if he should beg for their lives, or taunt the men. Surely he and Brienne could take a dozen men if they fought together.

The short break was enough for Brienne to recognise the attackers.

“Vargo Hoat?”, she asked, distaste in her voice.

Jaime narrowed his eyes. The leader of the group, a tall gaunt man with a weird chain of coins around his neck, was eyeing Brienne with visible interest. Jaime remembered the man being in his father’s services, but did not wish to raise awareness to who he was.

“Leave her alone!”, Jaime said quickly. “You wouldn’t harm an innocent maiden!”

He winced. That was hardly worth more than to win them a few seconds. Brienne did not look like the typical innocent maiden, and even if she did, Hoat would be more interested in raping her than protecting her.

“Maiden?”, Hoat asked. “Tywinth whore, a maiden? If the hath told you tho, then the hath lied to you, fool.”

Brienne beside him was gasping. Jaime was for a moment to confused to say anything. What did his father have to do with anything?

“You want to deny the charges, my lady?”, said one of the other men, grinning magnanimously. “Two little mistakes beg to differ.”

Again the men all laughed unpleasantly.

“We thould bring you back to Harrenhal with uth.”, the leader said. “Tywinth whore might check a pretty prithe, me thinkth.”

“Lord Tywin is not in Harrenhal anymore.”, Brienne said beside them. Jaime could not place her tone.

“Oh, not to worry, Lord Tywin hath long thinthe gone to hith little king, taking your mithtaketh with him. Lord Bolton ruleth in Harrenhal now. He might thtill be interethted in you, though.”

Jaime shifted minutely, redistributing his weight. He quickly caught Brienne’s eye. Her face was red, and she looked visibly shaken, but determined. Jaime gave her a quick, reassuring smile, and then nodded.

They attacked as one. Afterwards, Jaime could not say what he had done. He and Brienne fought back to back, guarding each other and efficiently moving through their enemies, who did not stand a chance.

Jaime blood was boiling when he lifted his sword in a graceful arch and cut of the head of the last of the men. It took him a minute to realise that the fight was over. Two men were still alive, groaning, but did not look as if they would live much longer. He made sure they could not get up and turned to Brienne, who looked especially magnificent right now. If he thought their practice spars got his blood up, there was not comparison to a real fight.

“Are you alright?”, he asked, breathing hard.

She nodded, then gulped. “I’m fine. Jaime, are you...you are bleeding?”

Jaime had not realised he had been hurt. He glanced down and found a superficial cut on his arm.

“I’m alright.”, he said. “You?”

Brienne nodded, still visibly shaken.

“We should leave as fast as possible. Maidenpool is close, someone is bound to have heard the noise.”

“What, not bury the bodies first?”, Jaime asked sarcastically.

Brienne ignored him.

“We can take the horses.”, she said. “I’d have preferred to buy some rations in Maidenpool, but we should travel on as fast as possible. Maybe they have rations we can use.”

She would not meet his eyes. Jaime hesitated, then decided that now was not the time. Together they went through the horses, collected everything useful, chose the two fittest looking ones and packed everything on them, then let the others go free, mounted and rode on, circling around Maidenpool.

“Wench…”, Jaime started. She groaned, sounding miserable. Jaime paused, and recalculated, remembering Hoat calling her whore.

“Brienne, what were they talking about?”

“Not now.”, Brienne said tightly. “Later. Please, Jaime.”

Jaime nodded, though he burned with curiosity. He hadn’t been aware that Brienne had met his father. He could not imagine that she had actually...shared his bed, but they must have interacted. As for the two mistakes they kept referring to...that did not leave much to the imagination. Had Brienne had had children while he had been gone?

For the next hour or so, while they rode on, for once fully on the road, prioritising speed in getting away from Maidenpool over secrecy, he burned with jealousy over whichever man must have lain with Brienne. He did not have any claim on her, but the mere idea of anyone else with her filled him with rage. It had been similar with Cersei, but there he had been forced to keep silent.

It started getting dark, Jaime barely able to keep silent in his rage, and still Brienne kept pressing on, as if avoiding the conversation, when he finally started doing the maths.

He had been held captive for a bit over a year; a year and two months, at most. And he had been Brienne’s first, that much was certain. She had been away from him for only a bit over a year and had managed to end up pregnant? Had she been raped? Surely she would have said something; surely he would have seen signs?

And anyway, if she got pregnant so quickly, then shouldn’t the two months they had spent together been more likely to produce some results?

As soon as the thought crossed his mind, his thoughts tripped. His heart missed a beat, then started racing. Jaime stopped his horse.

“Brienne.”, he said.

“Not now.”, Brienne said, sounding close to tears. Jaime rolled his eyes, then sped his horse. He reached her height, gripped her horses reigns, and stopped them both, before getting out of the saddle and staring up at Brienne through the vanishing light.

“Now.”, he said. “Brienne. Have you had my child?”

She was still avoiding his eyes, looking very uncomfortable. Jaime forced himself to breathe deeply.

“Brienne.”, he said softly.

“We should make camp.”, she said, and was she crying now?

Jaime cast his eyes around, picking a direction and leading the horses off the path until he found a small meadow. There, he hobbled the horses, making sure they could reach the grass, and waited patiently while Brienne dismounted. Then he stepped closer and took her in his arms.

“Brienne.”, he said again softly and a little bit impatiently.

She started to cry fully.

Jaime stood there helplessly. He had never known how to deal with a crying woman. Cersei had cried, but her tears always had had a clear cause. Brienne was just sobbing, great, big ugly sobs, into his shoulder. He held her awkwardly and stiffly and waited for it to abate, trying to organise his thoughts.

It was fully dark by the time she quietened, and she still did not lift her head, as she said into his shoulder: “Two boys. Twins. Duncan and Galladon. I...Jaime, I did not know. When you were captured. I would have told you!”

“You were pregnant.”, Jaime said numbly. “You had my children, My children, you...Brienne, we have children?”

“Yes.”, she said. “Children, Jaime. I am so sorry.”

“Sorry, why are you sorry, what...Brienne, that is…”, he interrupted himself, not quite sure what it was. He felt mostly exhilarated, excited at the idea of two little versions of them running around, maybe with his looks but her eyes, and surely her size...well, not yet, they could not be a year old yet. On the other hand, he had given up the idea of children years ago, when Cersei had convinced him to take the white for her.

“I am sorry.”, he said. “For leaving you in such a state. It was ill done.”

“I knew the risk I was taking.”, Brienne said. “And I knew that you would not marry me. You are Kingsguard. It was...it was worth it. And Duncan, and Galladon, they are...except, I’m a horrible mother. They’re probably better off with your father.”

“Brienne, what does my father have to do with that? And why does my father have my sons? Never mind that, there is absolutely no case where a child is better off with my father! How do you even know him?”

Brienne breathed deeply, still clinging to him. Jaime lowered them carefully to seating, but didn’t let go.

“After you were taken captive...we rode for your father’s army. There were a few knights who managed to escape. They told him that we had...that I might...anyway, your father took me captive in Harrenhal until the birth of the children.”

“Captive?”

“He treated me quite well. He hoped for a son that he could legitimise if you didn’t come back.”

“He must have been absolutely overjoyed for there to have been two.”, Jaime said stunned.

Brienne just nodded.

“And then he let you go?”, Jaime asked disbelieving.

“Well. He stopped keeping me under guard. And when we learned that Lady Catelyn was on her way south to treat with Lord Renly, we took the chance to meet with her. I had sworn to see you free and thought Lady Catelyn would be willing to treat for her daughters.”

“Well, she did that.”, Jaime said. “How on earth did you convince her? And wait, who is we? Did you take the boys with you?”

“No.”, Brienne said. “They were so small! And their wet nurses were taking good care of them. Lord Tywin made sure they were always well protected. I could never have taken them out of the castle.”

“Obviously.”, Jaime snorted.

“So it was just Arya and me.”

“Arya.”, Jaime said. He blinked. “Arya Stark?”

“Yes.”, Brienne said. “She had managed to flee King’s Landing but came somehow to Harrenhal in disguise. I recognised her, so I made her my squire. She came with me to Bitterbridge, where we met Lady Catelyn. She agreed to let you go if I brought both her daughters to her. So I went to King’s Landing and got Sansa out, and then rode with her to Riverrun. That’s why it took me so long to get you out.”

Jaime stared at her in the dark. Then he started to laugh. And laugh. And laugh. His entire body was shaking from laughter, tears were streaming down his cheeks and still he was laughing. Brienne started squirming, uncomfortable, and trying to get away from him, but he kept clinging to her tightly and laughing and laughing. After a while, Brienne gave up, wrapped her hands around him and started stroking through his hair as he kept laughing.

It felt an eternity until he managed to contain his mirth long enough to kiss Brienne.

“You.”, he said, and kissed her again. “Are absolutely amazing. Magnificent. Unique. Are you a goddess? How can you be real?”

Brienne was blushing now. He couldn’t see her, here in the dark, but he could feel the warmth of her cheeks under his hands.

“I…”, she said.

“You already got the Stark daughters! That’s why you were so sure I’d fulfil my oath to Lady Catelyn! I don’t have a choice, because as soon as I’m back in King’s Landing, it’s going to be done. How on earth did you manage to get Sansa out, anyway? I thought she was still there?”

“She was.”, Brienne mumbled. “I used that tunnel you showed me.”

“And you just went into the Red Keep and got their most valuable hostage out. As if it’s nothing.”

“Stannis was attacking, so they were distracted.”, Brienne argued.

“You went into the Red Keep, in the middle of an active attack, while the entire city was closed off, and stole the most valuable hostage of King’s Landing right from under the King’s nose.”, Jaime said disbelieving. He shook his head. “I can’t believe you are real.” He kissed her again.

For a moment they were just lying there in the dark under the stars and kissing.

“Why did you then make me swear to return Arya and Sansa to their mother, if she already had them?”

“We thought it would be better to keep that secret.”, Brienne said. “And I thought I could demand to have my children back, in return, as they can’t provide the hostages that were supposed to be exchanged for you. I know it’s your family. I should not have told you, but I beg you to keep the secret.”

Jaime tried and failed to imagine his father being willing to let his two grandsons by Jaime go for any price. He decided that that was a discussion for another day and kissed Brienne again, pressing her into the ground.

The next day, as they were riding along the road towards King’s Landing, Jaime demanded to know everything there was to know about his two new sons. Brienne obliged as much as she could.

“They are babies.”, she said. “It’s not as if they have a lot of personality yet. And they were barely two months old when I left them.”

“I’m just glad they have your eyes.”, Jaime said happily.

“They might not.”, Brienne cautioned. “The maester said that babies often have blue eyes when they are born. They might still turn green. I just hope they will grow up looking like you.”

“My sons.”, Jaime beamed.

“Your fourth and fifth child.”, Brienne said, and didn’t that take the joy right out of Jaime.

“You heard me talking with Lady Catelyn.”, he said.

“Stannis was distributing stories already.”, Brienne said. “Do you deny it?”

“I do not.”, Jaime said. “What is there to deny? It’s true. Joffrey, Myrcella and Tommen are all mine. Well, I sired them. They have never been mine, really.”

“Did you want children?”, Brienne asked. Jaime couldn’t interpret her tone.

“I had given up the hope of ever fathering children when I gave up my birth right and heritage becoming a Kingsguard on Cersei’s behest.”, Jaime said. “I always knew they couldn’t be my children. They were always Robert’s, with very little contribution from me.”

Brienne remained silent, and the topic was not discussed again until they decided to stop at an inn after Rosby, shortly before they expected to meet the King’s Road.

They made good speed until then on their horses, and spent the time with Jaime telling stories of his conquests, needling Brienne for details on the year they had spent apart, and, when they could not bear the thought of reality any longer, discussing knights of the past that they had always looked up to. It was the easy camaraderie Jaime had missed most during his captivity.

They reached the inn several days later an hour before dark, and as their rations had run out and they hadn’t caught anything to supplement their meals in the last days, they decided to risk it. The inn was comfortable enough, offered stew, halfway clean, comfortable beds, and even a warm bath that they both enjoyed very much before coming down into the common room for dinner.

While Brienne drew a few stares, it didn’t seem as if anyone recognised them as they sat in their corner, ladling the warm stew into their mouths.

“What news from the war?”, Jaime chanced to ask a young lad with the look of a messenger.

The boy turned to him.

“Wild news from all directions. Have you heard of the Red Wedding of the Twins yet?”, he asked. Jaime and Brienne exchanged a glance.

“The Red Wedding?”, Jaime asked, carefully.

The boy leaned forward. “They say that the Frey’s laid a trap and slew Robb Stark and all his men at the Twins, at the wedding of Roslin Frey and Edmure Tully.”, he said. “After offering bread and salt, too!”

Jaime slowly breathed in and out. He felt Brienne searching for his hand, and grabbed hers.

“They killed Robb Stark?”, he said, feeling Brienne shake.

“Slit open his throat, and that of all his people.”, the lad said. “Awful, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”, Jaime said, numbly.

“And...the rest of the family?”, Brienne asked, shaking slightly.

The boy shrugged. “Stark’s brother’s are dead, killed by the Greyjoy’s, and his sisters missing.”

Brienne and Jaime exchanged a look.

“They say the Riverlands are still at war, but hopefully that’ll be over soon.”, the boy said. “Balon Greyjoy died, Stannis Baratheon holed himself up somewhere on Dragonstone or something, Renly Baratheon is long since dead and with Robb Stark’s death, King Tommen remains uncontested.”

“Hold up.”, Jaime said. “King Tommen? What happened to Joffrey?”

The boy gave him an incredulous look. “Where’ve you been? King Joffrey has been killed but two days after Stannis attacked King’s Landing. That was months ago. It was his hound who did it, they say. And then took his own life. I could believe it. Never trusted him much, with his weird half-burned face. Tommen was crowned king not much later. They say he’s going to marry Margaery Tyrell now, though he’s what, seven? Eight?”

Brienne stood abruptly.

“Thank you for the news.”, Jaime said quickly to the boy, then joined her as she fled to the room they had rented for the night. There he sat on the single bed, while Brienne started walking in agitated circles.

“Did you kill Joffrey while you got Sansa out?”, Jaime asked, trying for a jovial tone. Brienne whirled at him.

“That’s not funny!”, she hissed. “That was your family, wasn’t it? Killing Robb Stark and all his people at his wedding? If I’d been a little bit faster with Sansa...if Lady Catelyn hadn’t waited for me...they would have killed them, too, wouldn’t they have? Innocent girls?”

“I’m not so sure about that.”, Jaime said. “They would be more valuable as hostages. It’s just the king in the north that needed to be killed. And his army, I guess, as much as they could.”

“Needed to be killed!”, she hissed. “How dare you speak in such a way about such a vile crime.”

“I apologize about my phrasing, my lady.”, Jaime soothed. “I do not deny that it was an evil, vile thing to do. I am just saying that whoever was behind it probably had not much interest in the deaths of the women.”

“Whoever organised it.”, Brienne repeated. “It was your family, wasn’t it?”

“You might remember that I spent the last year or so locked in a dungeon. I was not consulted on any decisions my family took.”, Jaime said. Brienne stared at him. He sighed.

“It does sound like my father.”, he said. “I have no idea how he pulled it off.”

“Figures on a game board.”, Brienne said disgusted and sank down next to him. “Will there be consequences?”

“Well, the war’s mostly over.”, Jaime said. “I have no idea what Lady Catelyn and her daughters are going to do.”

“I meant for your father! For his crimes!”

“I imagine he’s more powerful then ever, now. I’m sorry. The world isn’t a fair place. If it had failed, he would have been branded a monster, but as it succeeded, he won our side the war, and people will laud him for it. All while carefully pretending that Walder Frey acted entirely out of his own interest.” He sighed. “The world is not fair.”, he repeated.

Brienne nodded numbly beside him.

“And Joffrey?”, she asked.

“What about Joffrey?”, Jaime asked, and then remembered.

Brienne didn’t say anything so he didn’t either, staring into space. His son was dead. Shouldn’t he be feeling something? Sorrow, grief? Yet there was nothing. Joffrey had been there, and now he wasn’t. He had never really been Jaime’s. He’d always been rather Cersei’s.

“I’ve never even held him.”, he said.

“What?”, Brienne asked.

“Joffrey.”, Jaime clarified. “I’ve never even held him. Cersei was too worried that people would make the connection. He’s never been anything to me. I barely know him. I know he wasn’t a very nice person. Tommen might become a better king yet, under the guidance of my father.”

“He was your son!”, Brienne said disbelievingly.

Jaime shrugged. “Barely. I never saw him as my son, I never got to know him or thought that I did. In the end, Joffrey was not much more than a squirt of seed in Cersei’s cunt.”

“What a vile thing to say!”, Brienne admonished.

Jaime sighed again.

“I don’t know what to say.”, he said. “I should feel sad, shouldn’t I? But I barely knew him, and I never felt as if he was anything to me. Now he’s gone, and it makes hardly any difference to me.”

Brienne was silent for a bit, while Jaime stared contemplatively at the wall and tried to remember Joffrey.

“And our children?”, Brienne asked quietly, finally.

Jaime turned to look at her.

“What do they have to do with that?”, he asked.

“What will you think of them?”, she asked.

“I hope I get to know them better, and get to love them.”, Jaime said. “It’s not that I never wanted a family. I had just resigned myself to never having one. I would like to get to know them.”

“And Tommen? And Myrcella?”

“I expect they will continue not to be my children, for their sakes.”, Jaime said. “And I assume Tommen will be firmly under my father’s thumb, now. I don’t know if anything will change. I expect father will want us to move to Casterly Rock soon.”

“Us?”, Brienne exclaimed. “Why us? I am going to return to Tarth, once I’ve gotten my sons back!”

“Look. Wench.”, Jaime said, then, before she could correct him, “Brienne.”

He carefully gripped her head with one hand, used the other to turn her chin so she would look at him. She glared. Jaime gathered his thoughts, then decided to start at the beginning.

“I loved my sister.”, Jaime said. “She is my twin, my mirror, my other half. It was always just the two of us against the world, since we were small, and we thought it would always be. But...you should know, before we met, we had an argument. Directly before the melee, in fact.”

Brienne kept silent, listening.

“She wanted me to leave the Kingsguard to become hand of the king, and to dispose of Ned Stark. I don’t hold any love for Ned Stark, but I have no interest in becoming hand of the king. And I didn’t want to leave the Kingsguard. She could not understand that. She told me that honour was a weak concept, that I was stupid to look for it, and had anyway long since given up on honour when I killed Aerys and fucked her. She didn’t care why I did it, she didn’t care about the ramifications. She saw the Kingsguard as a way to keep me in King’s Landing, nothing more. She made that very clear.”

Jaime sighed, then continued. “It wasn’t the first time we had an argument like this. Usually, after a day or two I’d carve and go back to her and apologize.”

That caught Brienne’s attention. “Apologize? After she says these things to you?”

Jaime waved a hand through the air. “Oh, there’s always things on both sides. Lannisters are not nice, haven’t you learned that yet? The point is, I’d always go back to her. After all, what else would I do? I gave up everything for her. My position, my title, my inheritance, the chance for a family, for children I could call my own. I gave up everything to be with her, what would make that of me if I now gave up on her?

So usually I went back after a day or two, I’d apologize, and we’d make up and fuck.

Except this time, there was the melee, and you, and you were thoroughly distracting and so much more appealing than going back and facing Cersei. So instead of going to her, I went to you, and put my frustration into swinging a sword against you.”

“So you haven’t talked to her since then?”, Brienne asked disbelieving.

“Well, there was one time. I wouldn’t call it talking, though. We argued. Screamed a bit at each other. There were even worse things said. She wasn’t happy that she had to come to me, that I hadn’t come back. And I was thoroughly enchanted by you and hadn’t had the time to properly miss her, so I wasn’t really contrite enough for her. Point is, the last time we talked, we argued and we never made up.”

“So you haven’t talked with Cersei in over a year, and the last time you did was argue. But won’t she be relieved to have you back? Won’t that make things easier?”

Jaime laughed. “I doubt it. That doesn’t sound like Cersei. No, she will be brimming with rage. And anyway, I am not sure it matters. You see, I’ve just spent over a year locked up in a dreary, lonely dungeon in Riverrun, with nothing but the rats and my memories of my last fight with Cersei, and of fucking you.”

Brienne blushed and turned her head away. Jaime laughed and pressed a kiss to her temple.

“So, a full year with these memories, and nothing to distract me. That’s a lot of time. It’s enough time to come to terms with the fact that I was never truly happy with Cersei, and never will be. Neither will she, to be honest. She’s still my sister, and she deserves better than her lot in life, but I didn’t want this any more. Also, I now knew that there was another way. There was something better. Someone who actually understands me, who knows why I did the things I did and accepts me nevertheless. You, Brienne.”

Brienne gazed at him, astonished and a little wary. Jaime smiled, and kissed her, deeply.

Kissing did a wonderful job of distracting them both and it was a while before Brienne was coherent again.

“So, what, you want to leave your sister...for me?”, she asked incredulous.

Jaime laughed.

“I’m not sure that’s even a choice.”, he said. “You see, you were nearly right. There’s almost nothing my father wants more than to have me back with him. There is, however, one thing he wants more. And that’s me, married to a noble woman and with male legitimate heirs. There is currently nothing my father wants more than you, and our children.”

“But you can never marry!”, Brienne argued. “You are still Kingsguard.”

Jaime shrugged.

“What’s the Kingsguard these days?”, he asked. “You said my sweet sister released Ser Barristan Selmy, who was never anything but competent and was still a very formidable knight last I saw them about a year ago, for his age? After that, it won’t be hard to get me dismissed as well. After all, now I haven’t just killed a king, even if the truth about me and Cersei is never made official, I’ve still had two children with you. There’s barely anything stopping me from getting married now.”

“But your father could marry you to someone else!”, Brienne protested. “A Tyrell, or Martell, or someone else from a major noble house!”
“And undoubtedly he would have preferred that, once.”, Jaime said.

“But aside from the fact that I did everything I could to avoid this fact – which will be much harder with you, given that I undubiously took your maidenhood – if I married such a girl there is always a chance she would not give me children, or would only give me girls. You, on the other hand, have already given me two fine male heirs.”

He paused for a moment, then looked at her significantly, resting his hand on her middle. “And are well on your way of potentially producing a third. You’re like father’s greatest dream come true, served to him on a silver platter, and he would do absolutely everything, everything, to keep you.”

He waited a moment, to let her digest this.

“And,”, he then continued. “given my recent dungeon-and-solitude related revelations, I’m not at all inclined to put up even a moderate effort to stop him.”

And he kissed her again.

Tywin

Tyrion was late for the small council meeting. Tywin was just pressing his lips together and considering starting without him when he finally sauntered in.

“You’re late.”, Tywin said without a greeting.

Tyrion hopped onto a chair, looking slightly put out, as if it was Tywin’s fault that he couldn’t be on time.

“I do apologize. It seems I have not been informed that my dear brother had returned to the city for some reason. Surely you will not deny me a little time to reacquaint myself after not having seen each other for so long, especially given the ordeals both of us went through in the mean time?”

“What do you mean your brother returned to the city.”, Tywin said.

Tyrion’s facial expression turned from betrayed and angry to confused to delighted.

“Are you telling me, “, he began, then paused for effect, “that my brother managed to return to King’s Landing and get all the way into the Hand’s Tower without any of you being notified?”

He cast his eyes around the table, holding particularly on Varys, who just blinked.

“Council meeting is adjourned.”, Tywin said and got up. “Where is he?”

“In the Hand’s Tower, as I said.”, Tyrion said. “At least that’s where I last saw him, getting acquainted with my nephews.”

He cast an especially accusatory look in Tywin’s direction as he put weight on the last two words. Tywin ignored him. It had been expected that everyone, upon him bringing two children with clear Lannister colouring into his private quarters and having them kept close and under heavy security at all times would lead to certain conclusions. He had not bothered to dissuade anyone. It surprised him a bit that even Tyrion had fallen for it, though.

Tywin left the room at a brisk pace, ignoring the questions he could hear behind him, and Tyrion’s now smug-sounding answers.

A few minutes later he arrived at the room he had turned into the nursery, as always guarded by two men he trusted.

“Is Jaime in there?”, he demanded.

They both nodded. “Yes, my lord. With the Lady Brienne.”, one of them said.

Tywin took a deep breath and felt satisfaction flow through him. He had cursed himself heavily when she had actually left her children and him behind, and had been sure that her cause was doomed to failure, especially when Lady Sansa disappeared not much later. It seemed he had underestimated his future good daughter.

The guards opened the door for him and he strode through, only to stop in front of the sight before him.

Jaime was barely recognisable. His head must have been recently shaved and the golden curls were just barely coming back in, complemented by a wild beard. He wore threadbare clothing, mud-crusted shoes and manacles around wrists and ankles. He was also deeply asleep, his head on the shoulder of Lady Brienne of Tarth, who was marginally better dressed, though equally dirty, and equally asleep. Duncan and Galladon, each cuddled in the arms of one parent, followed their examples and were breathing deeply.

And if he wasn’t mistaken, Lady Brienne’s stomach was starting to develop a slightly round shape again.

Well, a moldable king of Lannister blood on the throne, all enemies vanquished, and Jaime off with a highborn woman apparently unable to not provide a stead influx of heirs. The future of house Lannister looked very bright indeed.