oh, it's a reasonable sacrifice - (Jaime/Brienne, Game of Thrones)
Title: oh, it's a reasonable sacrifice
Characters/Pairings: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~5100
Warnings: Some violence.
Summary: “You have to swear that you will... do what must be done, if it is needed.” “I will swear no such thing.” “I will not have your blood on my hands, figuratively or otherwise. Swear it.”
Disclaimer: These characters don't belong to me, and neither does the world they inhabit.
A/N: This is part of the Made of Steel series, but can be read as a stand-alone fic. And I still haven't read A Dance With Dragons yet, so my apologies if there are any inconsistencies.
Spoilers ahead for all of the books.
(also at AO3)
“We are not going to Sansa,” Brienne said to him after they had ridden a safe distance from the village.
“I know.”
“You - ” She yanked the reins and came to a whinnying halt. “You know? Then why did you come?”
“Curiosity.” Jaime stopped next to her. “I knew I'd get it out of you sooner or later. Although it appears to have been sooner, and I didn't even need to try. It's a shame. I was looking forward to our verbal sparring. So where, pray tell, are we really going?”
“But... but how could you have known I wasn't...?”
Jaime gave her a look. “Brienne. Please. You've always been an awful liar.”
She flushed, and spurred her horse on. Jaime followed, grinning.
“So, what was so important that you needed to lure me away under false pretenses?” he asked.
“It was only to - it's a long story.”
“We have time.”
And so Brienne began her tale, and the more she talked, the more Jaime felt his heart sink into his feet. She has gone through so much, he thought as she spoke, her big blue eyes avoiding his. I should have been there with her. So many things could have been different if he had left... his father still being alive, for one. But it didn't matter. What was done was done. His phantom hand twitched, and Brienne brought her horse over to the stream, where it began to drink as her voice grew broken. She clambered off her mount and sat on the snow with her knees to her chin, arms wrapped around her legs, and Jaime found himself sitting next to her without remembering how he got there.
She had stopped talking. She was gazing straight ahead of her, not a muscle moving. Jaime waited. And waited. A cold wind blew past. The horses had fallen asleep under a nearby tree.
“I wish we could stay here,” Brienne finally said. “I don't want to go where we have to go.”
“And where do we have to go?” Jaime asked, gently. His left hand was so cold, and his gold hand was covered in snow.
“To Lady Stoneheart.”
Ah. He hadn't expected that. “And why do we have to go there?”
“Because she wants me to kill you.” Her knees fell from her chin to the snow, and her words came tumbling out of her in an incoherent jumble. “Jaime, we have to think of - I would never - I couldn't - but they were killing Pod, and he's only a boy, I couldn't let them -”
“Shh.” Well, this was certainly a rather unpleasant turn of events. But Jaime wasn't even thinking about himself at that moment, but of Brienne, who had begun to silently weep. Her hand was resting on the ground. He did not know what else to do, so he placed his good hand on top of hers. Her fingers flinched at the touch, and she drew a sharp breath, but other than this she gave no indication of noticing.
They sat thusly for a while, watching the full moon hang in the sky. Brienne pulled her hand away from his and stood up.
“We need to go,” she said hoarsely. “We only have until tomorrow night, or she'll kill them...”
“Them?” Jaime stood up also, and they roused their horses and continued on their way.
“The knight traveling with us. Ser Hyle Hunt. He got taken also. Jaime - Jaime, what are we going to do? She made me choose, sword or noose, and I told her I would not choose, that you were a changed man, but she wouldn't listen, and she started to hang us - she's beyond reason - ”
“Wait a second.” Now it was Jaime who was rearing to a stop. “You did what?”
“I... I told her I would not choose.” She seemed startled.
“Are you mad? Or are you an imbecile?” What in the world was she thinking? “Is that the thanks I get for the bear pit? I did not save you only to have you die a short time later, wench.”
“I don't - I thought you would - ?”
“Your life is easily worth ten of mine,” he said, and her disbelieving face made him want to violently shake the sense back into her. “You're not to do anything so stupid as that again, do you understand me?”
“But Jaime - ”
“I'm not worth it,” he insisted. “I am not at all worth losing your life over.”
She looked like she wanted to argue, but he galloped ahead of her before she could say anything. The brash, stupid, stubborn, pig-headed, ridiculous oaf of a wench. Why she had felt the need to even do such a thing in the first place was completely beyond him. Was she so determined to die for some foolish cause? Well, it certainly would not be happening while he was there to stop her idiocy.
But then, what was the solution to their predicament? If what Brienne said was true - that this Lady Stoneheart was beyond reason - then he was at a loss. There was a time when the two of them could have easily taken down this Brotherhood Without Banners within minutes, but without his sword hand he was about as useful as a seven year old. Brienne didn't appear to be in the greatest state either. She was cringing slightly at each heavy step of her horse, her hand over her ribcage.
Tyrion would know what to do, but Jaime immediately shoved the thought out of his mind. He didn't give a damn about his brother and his talent for getting out of sticky situations. Or his talent for killing their father with a crossbow.
He pondered and deliberated as they rode, rode until it was late morning and they had reached an inn. Jaime assumed she meant to stop here and rest and was about to bring Honor to the stables, but she was still riding. He was tired, so tired he could barely keep his eyes open, could barely think straight, could barely think anything at all except that it appeared as though at least one of them was going to have to die. If he could just get some sleep, he might be able to come up with a plan... but no, Brienne wanted to press on, and so they did.
He asked her about the caves, how many people were there, the quickest way out, if there was anywhere they could hide, any secret passages they could escape from. She told him: several members of the Brotherhood, many innocent men, women, and children seeking refuge from the feuding lords, and the quickest way out was through them, and there was nowhere to hide, and no secret passageways as far as she knew of. He asked her if there was a chance he could be taken as a hostage instead of being executed. She said no. She said Lady Stoneheart wanted him dead in order for Brienne to prove her loyalty. He asked why Stoneheart wanted her to prove loyalty when she had no reason to be loyal to her. She didn't answer.
If she hadn't made me come alone, we might have had a chance. He understood why she had forced him to leave his host, but if he had even had just one other companion...
She was determined that the boy Pod would not die. Jaime was a little more ambivalent about this. He had been Tyrion's squire, but it would seem that Tyrion had left him behind for reasons unknown. Perhaps Tyrion had thought the boy would be a liability, or that it would be too dangerous for him. He would've likely been safer with you, dear, treacherous brother.
Still, though, he did not particularly want a dead twelve year old on his conscience, along with all the others that plagued his nightmares. He asked Brienne if Pod could fight. She said she had been training him in the sword but he was far from a skilled fighter. She said it was possible Ser Hyle might be able to make his way out, but he was badly injured and had no weapons or armor. Jaime didn't care about Ser Hyle. He stayed silent as they continued on the path, but his eyelids kept closing, and when he opened them again they were in front of a cave entrance. Brienne had tied her horse to his, and also tied him to his saddle to prevent him sliding off. He must have been in a very deep sleep to have not woken when she moved him.
The cave entrance was surrounded by decapitated heads. Lovely. Jaime noticed Brienne's shield as they left their horses. The picture on it seemed oddly familiar to him, but he did not have long to linger on the matter before they were entering the cave. A guard standing at the front entrance looked up as they entered, but didn't move from where he sat.
“How far have we to go?” he asked as they descended.
“Not very far.” Brienne moved her shield onto her back, and Jaime suddenly remembered where he had seen it before.
“Why do you have the sigil of Ser Duncan the Tall on your shield?”
“What?”
“I've seen that sigil before, in the White Book.”
“I don't - this was on some pieces in the armory at Tarth,” Brienne said. “I had it painted on the shield you gave me, in order to cover the bats.”
“So your father just happened to have Ser Duncan the Tall's armors lying around?”
“I guess so?” She didn't seem to want to discuss it further, but Jaime was intrigued. She bent down to avoid the sloping ceiling, her large hand above her head.
If Brienne is a descendant of Ser Duncan, all the more reason to make sure she doesn't get herself killed, he thought. Not that he had really needed more reasons, but still. If they both managed to escape unscathed, he was going to have to look into this.
Not that it was at all likely he was going to make it out alive. As they went further down into the caverns, Jaime's sense of impending disaster grew deeper and deeper, and on they walked, and it became darker and darker.
Doom, he thought. Only doom.
“You have to promise me,” Jaime said, “that you won't do anything stupid.”
“Define 'stupid'.”
“You know what I mean.”
“That won't be necessary,” Brienne said. She came to a halt, and Jaime almost rammed right into her as she turned to face him. “I will not fail you as I failed - ” She abruptly stopped talking and jerked her head away.
“Failed who?” Jaime asked slowly.
“Nothing. No one. Forget it.” Brienne walked briskly away, head bowed. Jaime stared after her. Could she mean...? No, that was ridiculous. He could see her blushing, though, and wondered.
After a moment, he remembered himself and scurried after her, his boots scraping the rocks. “Brienne.”
“What?” she asked, irritated.
“You have to swear that you will... do what must be done, if it is needed.”
“I will swear no such thing.”
“I will not have your blood on my hands, figuratively or otherwise. Swear it.”
“The same goes for me.”
“Swear it.”
She sighed. “We're here.”
And so they were. They had reached a large cavern where, as Brienne had described, men, women, and children sat huddled, eating scraps of food silently. A cloaked woman sat on a throne holding a crown in her hands, while several men flanked her - one of whom, he could see, was Thoros of Myr, who was looking at him curiously.
“Ah, the Kingslayer's Whore has returned with the Kingslayer!” one of the men said, laughing. Jaime noticed that he was holding the Hound's helm, although this man was definitely not Sandor Clegane.
Jaime looked dramatically around the room. “I don't see any whores here, my good man, but I do have to admit I am the Kingslayer. And who might you be?”
“Lem.” The man spat on the ground. “Toss over your weapons, Kingslayer. Now.”
Jaime reluctantly removed his sword from its sheath and tossed it over to Lem, who picked it up with a smirk. So much for that, he thought. Not that it would have really helped him any.
“Where are Pod and Ser Hyle?” Brienne demanded. She was clutching Jaime's arm so hard that he wanted to wrench free, but he dared not. “You promised they were not to be harmed.”
“And so they weren't. Bring 'em out.” One of the other men went into the adjacent room and dragged out Pod and a medium-sized man with an incredibly swollen face. Their legs and arms were both bound with heavy rope. Lem shoved them to their knees.
“It is good to see you, ser. My lady,” Pod said to Brienne.
“We have fulfilled our end of the bargain,” Lem said contemptously. “Now it is your turn.”
“Bring them to me,” Brienne said.
“Not a chance. Cut off his head, then you'll have your precious boy and knight.”
“And why, exactly, are you so intent on having my head all to yourself? Get lonely in the middle of the night and need someone to kiss? Understandable, although I wonder why you don't just chop the head off of your lady leader instead. Her lips are most likely sweeter than mine.”
A loud, inhuman sound came wrenching out of the woman on the throne. Her hands were on her neck, and she looked up at him.
By the Gods... Nothing could have prepared him for this unholy sight. The woman was a corpse, her skin a mottled green and a skull peeking out in patches. She spoke out of a slit in her throat, and her eyes glowed red.
“Or maybe not,” he allowed. He squinted, and, with a bitter chill, realized that Lady Stoneheart was, in fact, Lady Catelyn. He did not know how or why this had come to pass, or why Brienne had not told him this, but now was probably not the time to be asking questions.
“She said that you are an oathbreaker and a traitor,” one of the northmen said. “And that you will answer for your sins.”
“And what sins am I answering for?” He hoped they would not list them all, or they would be here all night.
Lady Stoneheart rasped, and the northman translated. “She says you will die for the murder of her son, Robb, and for the atrocities of the Red Wedding.”
“That was nothing to do with me,” Jaime said, although he could see that it was pointless to argue. “It was my father's doing, and he is dead, slain by my imp brother. My lady, if you set me free, I promise you, the Freys will answer for their crimes. I have not broken my oath. I have never taken up arms against Stark or Tully, and now that I know you are still alive, in a manner of speaking, I - ”
“Save your words, Kingslayer,” Lem interrupted, spitting again. “The Freys will answer for their crimes, but not from you, filthy Lannister scum.”
“There's no need for name-calling,” Jaime said dryly. He felt dizzy, and Brienne's grip on him was so tight she was cutting off circulation. If she doesn't let go, I'll pass out and miss my own beheading.
“She says you are to be executed for being a Lannister, and for throwing her son out of a window,” the northman said. “She says you are to be executed for killing your king, the one you were sworn to protect. You are to be executed for the gross crime of incest. And you are to be executed because she commands it so.”
“Would you really execute a poor cripple such as myself?” He revealed his golden hand. Several people gasped, and Stoneheart's red eyes grew brighter. Thoros of Myr raised an eyebrow. “This should be proof enough I was not involved in the Wedding, at least. I was too busy getting my hand chopped off by the Brave Companions. My lady, please allow me a trial by combat to prove my innocence. I will name the Maid of Tarth as my champion.”
“You will not get a trial by combat, Kingslayer. Your guilt is already known. You've confessed to our lady that you tossed her son out of a tower after he caught you fucking your twin sister. That alone is enough reason to string you up, but we'd rather display your head outside instead.” Lem grinned menacingly.
It was no use. Jaime lowered his golden hand.
Lady Stoneheart turned her eerie gaze to Brienne, who was trembling. “Let them go, and I will kill him,” she finally said.
Stoneheart nodded to her men, who cut Pod and Ser Hyle loose. The two immediately scrambled behind Brienne, who was still holding his arm. Her eyes were steel.
She is going to do it, Jaime thought, but strangely felt no fear. Instead, all he felt was relief. There were worse ways to die, he supposed, as he knelt onto the ground. At least he wasn't being set on fire. This death should be a quick one, and only hurt for a moment.
He hoped so, anyway.
“Turn him around,” he managed to make out Stoneheart say. “You will look him in the eyes as you kill him.”
Just like Ned Stark used to. Brienne wheeled him around to face her, and he stared up at her large, ugly face, the last thing he would ever see in the world. He didn't mind that, so much.
“It's okay,” he told her as she reached for Oathkeeper. He wondered if Cersei was in King's Landing at this moment, about to be sentenced to death also. He wondered if they would be beheaded at the same instant. Die together as we were born together. “Go away inside, Brienne of Tarth. Do it and be done with it. No one will shed tears for the Kingslayer.” He felt a sudden lump in his throat. “Or are you craven, wench? What are you waiting for? Do it.” Brienne raised Oathkeeper in the air. Her sapphire eyes shone. Jaime refused to look away. His ears rang. The floor was swallowing him. The darkness was coming. It's okay. I will see my father... and my mother... and my son...
“No.”
And Brienne swung her sword, not at him, but at Lem.
“No!” Jaime suddenly felt his arms being grabbed, and someone trying to pull him to his feet. Pandemonium had broken loose. Lem's head was on the floor. The Hound's helm rolled in front of Stoneheart's feet. Brienne charged at the others who had raised their swords. Stoneheart was standing. Jaime was standing, being dragged. He struggled. Brienne lopped off someone's arm. Thoros of Myr stood aside.
“Get him out!” Brienne yelled, and Jaime was being pulled away more forcefully. “RUN!”
Several people attempted to snatch Jaime back, but Pod and Ser Hyle kicked them all aside, and in any case most of them were too distracted by Brienne. Jaime fought to get out of their grasp, but he was too weak, too shaken, and she was fighting and fighting but there were too many of them and it was only a matter of time before... before...
“BRIENNE!” The word exploded out of him, echoing across the cavern walls over and over, Brienne Brienne Brienne. They yanked him out of the room, out of sight, he couldn't see what was going on, he needed to know she would win, she would have to kill everyone, even the children, even Stoneheart, and she was by herself and she was injured but she had a Valyrian steel sword so maybe she had a chance, just a small one, but a chance, he could hear people storming in from other caverns and she was as good as dead and he had failed, Brienne was gone she was gone she was gone.
They hadn't been followed out of the cave, presumably because of the bedlam and confusion. The guard was mysteriously missing. The moonlight stung his eyes. Pod and Ser Hyle had finally let him go. Where were the horses? Stolen, or ran away. Honor is lost, he thought as the three of them took off. Honor is dead.
They reached the path, and Jaime was stumbling and tripping, but Pod was there to catch him every time. He felt sick. The world was spinning.
Then, a shadow approached on horseback. Jaime knew who it was before he got close. He must have been following us this whole time...
“Go,” he croaked. “Help her. Please.”
Ser Ilyn Payne nodded silently, gave his horse a kick, and galloped towards the cave.
They did not have time to stick around. They ran, they ran, Jaime did not know where, did not know where anything was. He could taste bile in his throat. It was snowing hard and the flakes fell on his eyelashes. He couldn't see. He fell over. Someone picked him up. Brienne Brienne Brienne. His dream was a lie. He should never have saved her. He should never have given her Oathkeeper. He should never have sent her on this foolish quest. She should've been at home, at Tarth, safe. Instead, he had led her here. It was his fault, all his fault. He should've known she wouldn't listen to him, of course she wouldn't listen to him, she was too good and noble and stupid.
He did not know how long they had been running, only that he could do it no longer. He fell against the trunk of a willow tree and retched. It tasted bitter in his mouth. He slid and collapsed onto the ground. He wasn't unconscious, but he wanted to be. Pod sat him up and Ser Hyle stood, staring down at him with an indecipherable expression.
“She said your name,” Ser Hyle said.
“Huh?” was the only sound Jaime could muster. He wiped vomit from the side of his mouth.
“Brienne. She was feverish, on the way to the cave, and dreaming, and she shouted your name. Quite a few times.” His swollen face was unreadable.
Jaime wasn't sure how to respond, or why he was telling him this, so he said nothing.
“We should keep moving,” Pod said. “Or hide. They could be tracking us right now.”
“I can't,” Jaime said weakly. He had never felt so helpless in his life. Except maybe when he had lost his hand. He glared down at his golden replacement. Useless.
Ser Hyle looked up at the branches. “Can you climb the tree?”
Jaime shook his head.
He groaned. “I don't even know why I bothered doing this...” he mumbled to himself.
“You can climb,” Jaime said. “I'll sit here and keep watch.”
“Oh, you'll be our guard, will you? The great swordsman Ser Jaime Lannister?” The man let out a loud, rich laugh. Jaime wanted to punch him. “The storm should hide us, for a time. But we should go back and cover our tracks as best as we can. Pod?”
The two trekked out, but not too far, and Jaime shivered. It was so cold. The hanging branches sheltered him somewhat from the snow that was coming down more and more heavily, but not enough. It was difficult to see more than a few yards in front of him. Everything was just vague blobs and shadows.
The sickness was now replaced with an utterly numb and empty feeling inside of him. The darkness was rooted in his feet, his ankles, and slowly creeping upwards, about to overtake him entirely. He didn't know what to do. Where was he supposed to go? Back to King's Landing, to fight for Cersei's “honor”? Or even just to continue on there as Lord Commander of the Kingsguard? The thought seemed laughable. What was the point? But yet, what else was he to do?
I will find Sansa, he thought. I will finish Brienne's quest for her. There is nothing else for it. How he was going to do this when he was a shell of his former self, he hadn't the faintest idea, but it was all he could think of, and all he wanted.
Pod and Ser Hyle had returned. “The snow's covered most of the tracks for us already,” Ser Hyle said. “If we go now, we should be able to stay ahead of them.”
Jaime nodded, and was about to stand up, when he saw something. Someone on horseback. Ser Ilyn? No, this person was too big to be Ser Ilyn. The blizzard was so thick that he could not make anything out.
Pod had noticed this too, and was squinting into the distance. “Who is that?”
“We need to move. Now.” Ser Hyle went to pull Jaime to his feet, but Jaime had already stood up, and was staggering out into the storm, staring at the figure on horseback. The snow hit him like icy stones, but he barely noticed. It can't be...
It was. She was there. Brienne was there. And she was alive.
Jaime mentally praised the Seven and the Old Gods and the God of Many Faces and the Lord of Light and the Drowned God and the Storm God and even the Great Stallion, and all of the others he could think of, as Brienne leapt off of Ser Ilyn's horse and was standing in front of him, snow in her hair and her helm underneath her arm. How had she gotten out? How had she survived? How was she before him now, bruised and hurt but still, amazingly, impossibly, there? A giant wave of relief and gratitude washed over him, because everything was fine now, Brienne was here and hope was not lost, and the darkness was gone.
But then he remembered what she had done and a spark of anger ignited inside his chest once again.
“Hi,” she said absurdly.
He didn't know whether to hit her or kiss her. “I thought I told you not to die for me.”
“I didn't.”
Jaime couldn't help himself and burst out laughing, and Brienne chuckled along with him.
“Jaime, I - this man came in after you left...”
“Ser Ilyn Payne,” he said. “The King's Justice.”
Brienne blinked in surprise. “Someone from Pod's house?”
“Yes, but that's not important. Where is he?”
“He... well, he didn't say anything the whole time, but he shoved me out of harm's way and took over the fighting. I didn't want to run, but he kept pushing me towards the exit. He took half of the Brotherhood out, from what I saw, but before I left, I...” She paused. “You're going to get mad.”
“I don't care. Tell me.” I'm just glad you're okay...
“I promised Lady Stoneheart I would bring her Sansa.”
Jaime wasn't mad, but incredibly confused. “You... what? Why? Even supposing we find Sansa, and supposing she agrees to come with us, do you really want her to see her mother in such a state?”
“I don't know,” Brienne said slowly. Jaime hadn't even noticed that Ser Hyle and Pod had joined them 'til just now. “I just thought... I think maybe, if she sees her daughter again... it might... remind her of who she was. Remind her that she used to be Lady Catelyn Stark of Winterfell, not Lady Stoneheart, who tries to hang innocent boys without trial and cares only for vengeance.”
“This is a very nice little reunion and everything,” Ser Hyle said before Jaime could reply, “but maybe we should get back under the tree. Directly in a storm isn't exactly the best place to have loving conversations.”
Loving conversations? The four of them went back under the willow tree. It still was not offering much protection, but it helped a little.
“I'm sure Ser Ilyn is dead,” Brienne said. She turned to Pod and bowed her head. “I'm sorry.”
“I didn't really know him,” Pod said. “It's alright.” The boy did seem a little sad, however.
“You don't need to apologize to him. Apologize to me,” Jaime said.
“You?” She was incredulous. “I saved your life!”
“Yes, when I specifically told you to do the exact opposite.”
“If you really thought I would willingly kill you, you must be the thickest man in the Seven Kingdoms.”
“Well, excuse me for trying to save your life over mine. Isn't that what knights are supposed to do? Sacrifice themselves for beautiful maidens?”
Brienne glared at him in such a way that it reminded Jaime of the old days, sailing down the river. “Do you remember the boat times?” he asked. Her glare turned into a small smile. “And the bath times?” He wasn't sure why he'd brought that up, or why he was even thinking of it right now.
“That wasn't really a 'time', was it?” Brienne said. “It was more of an exposure.”
“I don't know what you two are babbling about, but we need to put as much distance between us and that cave as possible,” Ser Hyle said over Jaime's chortles. “Or do you want to just get dragged back after all that excitement?”
Heeding Ser Hyle's words, they set out once more, hoping to find shelter somewhere close by. Brienne forced Pod to be the one to sit on the horse, despite his protests that she was much more hurt than he was and she should be the one to ride.
Typical Brienne, he thought. He was struck with an idea. I should knight her. I must remember to do that, when there is time.
“So,” he said, as they clambered through the snow, which was practically half-way up their legs, “I guess this makes us even.”
“I guess it does.” She gave another small smile, and Jaime found himself smiling back. He felt a strange warmth, despite the cold.
“How did you find us?” Ser Hyle cut in.
“I... I heard your laugh, Ser,” she mumbled, looking away.
“Really, now.” He seemed to be pleased by this. “Well, once we find some shelter, I'm guessing Ser Jaime will want to make his way back to his host and the Kingsguard. Won't you, Lord Commander?”
Jaime said nothing, and Brienne suddenly seemed uncomfortable. She walked ahead of them, her fingers lightly touching the horse's saddle.
“Don't you worry,” the knight continued, “we'll send you right on your way as soon as we can.”
“I thank you, Ser... Hiddles, was it?” He had no intention of going back to anyone just yet. The last thing he needed was to lead the Brotherhood right into his camps.
Besides, he had a certain Stark girl to save.
Characters/Pairings: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: ~5100
Warnings: Some violence.
Summary: “You have to swear that you will... do what must be done, if it is needed.” “I will swear no such thing.” “I will not have your blood on my hands, figuratively or otherwise. Swear it.”
Disclaimer: These characters don't belong to me, and neither does the world they inhabit.
A/N: This is part of the Made of Steel series, but can be read as a stand-alone fic. And I still haven't read A Dance With Dragons yet, so my apologies if there are any inconsistencies.
Spoilers ahead for all of the books.
(also at AO3)
“We are not going to Sansa,” Brienne said to him after they had ridden a safe distance from the village.
“I know.”
“You - ” She yanked the reins and came to a whinnying halt. “You know? Then why did you come?”
“Curiosity.” Jaime stopped next to her. “I knew I'd get it out of you sooner or later. Although it appears to have been sooner, and I didn't even need to try. It's a shame. I was looking forward to our verbal sparring. So where, pray tell, are we really going?”
“But... but how could you have known I wasn't...?”
Jaime gave her a look. “Brienne. Please. You've always been an awful liar.”
She flushed, and spurred her horse on. Jaime followed, grinning.
“So, what was so important that you needed to lure me away under false pretenses?” he asked.
“It was only to - it's a long story.”
“We have time.”
And so Brienne began her tale, and the more she talked, the more Jaime felt his heart sink into his feet. She has gone through so much, he thought as she spoke, her big blue eyes avoiding his. I should have been there with her. So many things could have been different if he had left... his father still being alive, for one. But it didn't matter. What was done was done. His phantom hand twitched, and Brienne brought her horse over to the stream, where it began to drink as her voice grew broken. She clambered off her mount and sat on the snow with her knees to her chin, arms wrapped around her legs, and Jaime found himself sitting next to her without remembering how he got there.
She had stopped talking. She was gazing straight ahead of her, not a muscle moving. Jaime waited. And waited. A cold wind blew past. The horses had fallen asleep under a nearby tree.
“I wish we could stay here,” Brienne finally said. “I don't want to go where we have to go.”
“And where do we have to go?” Jaime asked, gently. His left hand was so cold, and his gold hand was covered in snow.
“To Lady Stoneheart.”
Ah. He hadn't expected that. “And why do we have to go there?”
“Because she wants me to kill you.” Her knees fell from her chin to the snow, and her words came tumbling out of her in an incoherent jumble. “Jaime, we have to think of - I would never - I couldn't - but they were killing Pod, and he's only a boy, I couldn't let them -”
“Shh.” Well, this was certainly a rather unpleasant turn of events. But Jaime wasn't even thinking about himself at that moment, but of Brienne, who had begun to silently weep. Her hand was resting on the ground. He did not know what else to do, so he placed his good hand on top of hers. Her fingers flinched at the touch, and she drew a sharp breath, but other than this she gave no indication of noticing.
They sat thusly for a while, watching the full moon hang in the sky. Brienne pulled her hand away from his and stood up.
“We need to go,” she said hoarsely. “We only have until tomorrow night, or she'll kill them...”
“Them?” Jaime stood up also, and they roused their horses and continued on their way.
“The knight traveling with us. Ser Hyle Hunt. He got taken also. Jaime - Jaime, what are we going to do? She made me choose, sword or noose, and I told her I would not choose, that you were a changed man, but she wouldn't listen, and she started to hang us - she's beyond reason - ”
“Wait a second.” Now it was Jaime who was rearing to a stop. “You did what?”
“I... I told her I would not choose.” She seemed startled.
“Are you mad? Or are you an imbecile?” What in the world was she thinking? “Is that the thanks I get for the bear pit? I did not save you only to have you die a short time later, wench.”
“I don't - I thought you would - ?”
“Your life is easily worth ten of mine,” he said, and her disbelieving face made him want to violently shake the sense back into her. “You're not to do anything so stupid as that again, do you understand me?”
“But Jaime - ”
“I'm not worth it,” he insisted. “I am not at all worth losing your life over.”
She looked like she wanted to argue, but he galloped ahead of her before she could say anything. The brash, stupid, stubborn, pig-headed, ridiculous oaf of a wench. Why she had felt the need to even do such a thing in the first place was completely beyond him. Was she so determined to die for some foolish cause? Well, it certainly would not be happening while he was there to stop her idiocy.
But then, what was the solution to their predicament? If what Brienne said was true - that this Lady Stoneheart was beyond reason - then he was at a loss. There was a time when the two of them could have easily taken down this Brotherhood Without Banners within minutes, but without his sword hand he was about as useful as a seven year old. Brienne didn't appear to be in the greatest state either. She was cringing slightly at each heavy step of her horse, her hand over her ribcage.
Tyrion would know what to do, but Jaime immediately shoved the thought out of his mind. He didn't give a damn about his brother and his talent for getting out of sticky situations. Or his talent for killing their father with a crossbow.
He pondered and deliberated as they rode, rode until it was late morning and they had reached an inn. Jaime assumed she meant to stop here and rest and was about to bring Honor to the stables, but she was still riding. He was tired, so tired he could barely keep his eyes open, could barely think straight, could barely think anything at all except that it appeared as though at least one of them was going to have to die. If he could just get some sleep, he might be able to come up with a plan... but no, Brienne wanted to press on, and so they did.
He asked her about the caves, how many people were there, the quickest way out, if there was anywhere they could hide, any secret passages they could escape from. She told him: several members of the Brotherhood, many innocent men, women, and children seeking refuge from the feuding lords, and the quickest way out was through them, and there was nowhere to hide, and no secret passageways as far as she knew of. He asked her if there was a chance he could be taken as a hostage instead of being executed. She said no. She said Lady Stoneheart wanted him dead in order for Brienne to prove her loyalty. He asked why Stoneheart wanted her to prove loyalty when she had no reason to be loyal to her. She didn't answer.
If she hadn't made me come alone, we might have had a chance. He understood why she had forced him to leave his host, but if he had even had just one other companion...
She was determined that the boy Pod would not die. Jaime was a little more ambivalent about this. He had been Tyrion's squire, but it would seem that Tyrion had left him behind for reasons unknown. Perhaps Tyrion had thought the boy would be a liability, or that it would be too dangerous for him. He would've likely been safer with you, dear, treacherous brother.
Still, though, he did not particularly want a dead twelve year old on his conscience, along with all the others that plagued his nightmares. He asked Brienne if Pod could fight. She said she had been training him in the sword but he was far from a skilled fighter. She said it was possible Ser Hyle might be able to make his way out, but he was badly injured and had no weapons or armor. Jaime didn't care about Ser Hyle. He stayed silent as they continued on the path, but his eyelids kept closing, and when he opened them again they were in front of a cave entrance. Brienne had tied her horse to his, and also tied him to his saddle to prevent him sliding off. He must have been in a very deep sleep to have not woken when she moved him.
The cave entrance was surrounded by decapitated heads. Lovely. Jaime noticed Brienne's shield as they left their horses. The picture on it seemed oddly familiar to him, but he did not have long to linger on the matter before they were entering the cave. A guard standing at the front entrance looked up as they entered, but didn't move from where he sat.
“How far have we to go?” he asked as they descended.
“Not very far.” Brienne moved her shield onto her back, and Jaime suddenly remembered where he had seen it before.
“Why do you have the sigil of Ser Duncan the Tall on your shield?”
“What?”
“I've seen that sigil before, in the White Book.”
“I don't - this was on some pieces in the armory at Tarth,” Brienne said. “I had it painted on the shield you gave me, in order to cover the bats.”
“So your father just happened to have Ser Duncan the Tall's armors lying around?”
“I guess so?” She didn't seem to want to discuss it further, but Jaime was intrigued. She bent down to avoid the sloping ceiling, her large hand above her head.
If Brienne is a descendant of Ser Duncan, all the more reason to make sure she doesn't get herself killed, he thought. Not that he had really needed more reasons, but still. If they both managed to escape unscathed, he was going to have to look into this.
Not that it was at all likely he was going to make it out alive. As they went further down into the caverns, Jaime's sense of impending disaster grew deeper and deeper, and on they walked, and it became darker and darker.
Doom, he thought. Only doom.
“You have to promise me,” Jaime said, “that you won't do anything stupid.”
“Define 'stupid'.”
“You know what I mean.”
“That won't be necessary,” Brienne said. She came to a halt, and Jaime almost rammed right into her as she turned to face him. “I will not fail you as I failed - ” She abruptly stopped talking and jerked her head away.
“Failed who?” Jaime asked slowly.
“Nothing. No one. Forget it.” Brienne walked briskly away, head bowed. Jaime stared after her. Could she mean...? No, that was ridiculous. He could see her blushing, though, and wondered.
After a moment, he remembered himself and scurried after her, his boots scraping the rocks. “Brienne.”
“What?” she asked, irritated.
“You have to swear that you will... do what must be done, if it is needed.”
“I will swear no such thing.”
“I will not have your blood on my hands, figuratively or otherwise. Swear it.”
“The same goes for me.”
“Swear it.”
She sighed. “We're here.”
And so they were. They had reached a large cavern where, as Brienne had described, men, women, and children sat huddled, eating scraps of food silently. A cloaked woman sat on a throne holding a crown in her hands, while several men flanked her - one of whom, he could see, was Thoros of Myr, who was looking at him curiously.
“Ah, the Kingslayer's Whore has returned with the Kingslayer!” one of the men said, laughing. Jaime noticed that he was holding the Hound's helm, although this man was definitely not Sandor Clegane.
Jaime looked dramatically around the room. “I don't see any whores here, my good man, but I do have to admit I am the Kingslayer. And who might you be?”
“Lem.” The man spat on the ground. “Toss over your weapons, Kingslayer. Now.”
Jaime reluctantly removed his sword from its sheath and tossed it over to Lem, who picked it up with a smirk. So much for that, he thought. Not that it would have really helped him any.
“Where are Pod and Ser Hyle?” Brienne demanded. She was clutching Jaime's arm so hard that he wanted to wrench free, but he dared not. “You promised they were not to be harmed.”
“And so they weren't. Bring 'em out.” One of the other men went into the adjacent room and dragged out Pod and a medium-sized man with an incredibly swollen face. Their legs and arms were both bound with heavy rope. Lem shoved them to their knees.
“It is good to see you, ser. My lady,” Pod said to Brienne.
“We have fulfilled our end of the bargain,” Lem said contemptously. “Now it is your turn.”
“Bring them to me,” Brienne said.
“Not a chance. Cut off his head, then you'll have your precious boy and knight.”
“And why, exactly, are you so intent on having my head all to yourself? Get lonely in the middle of the night and need someone to kiss? Understandable, although I wonder why you don't just chop the head off of your lady leader instead. Her lips are most likely sweeter than mine.”
A loud, inhuman sound came wrenching out of the woman on the throne. Her hands were on her neck, and she looked up at him.
By the Gods... Nothing could have prepared him for this unholy sight. The woman was a corpse, her skin a mottled green and a skull peeking out in patches. She spoke out of a slit in her throat, and her eyes glowed red.
“Or maybe not,” he allowed. He squinted, and, with a bitter chill, realized that Lady Stoneheart was, in fact, Lady Catelyn. He did not know how or why this had come to pass, or why Brienne had not told him this, but now was probably not the time to be asking questions.
“She said that you are an oathbreaker and a traitor,” one of the northmen said. “And that you will answer for your sins.”
“And what sins am I answering for?” He hoped they would not list them all, or they would be here all night.
Lady Stoneheart rasped, and the northman translated. “She says you will die for the murder of her son, Robb, and for the atrocities of the Red Wedding.”
“That was nothing to do with me,” Jaime said, although he could see that it was pointless to argue. “It was my father's doing, and he is dead, slain by my imp brother. My lady, if you set me free, I promise you, the Freys will answer for their crimes. I have not broken my oath. I have never taken up arms against Stark or Tully, and now that I know you are still alive, in a manner of speaking, I - ”
“Save your words, Kingslayer,” Lem interrupted, spitting again. “The Freys will answer for their crimes, but not from you, filthy Lannister scum.”
“There's no need for name-calling,” Jaime said dryly. He felt dizzy, and Brienne's grip on him was so tight she was cutting off circulation. If she doesn't let go, I'll pass out and miss my own beheading.
“She says you are to be executed for being a Lannister, and for throwing her son out of a window,” the northman said. “She says you are to be executed for killing your king, the one you were sworn to protect. You are to be executed for the gross crime of incest. And you are to be executed because she commands it so.”
“Would you really execute a poor cripple such as myself?” He revealed his golden hand. Several people gasped, and Stoneheart's red eyes grew brighter. Thoros of Myr raised an eyebrow. “This should be proof enough I was not involved in the Wedding, at least. I was too busy getting my hand chopped off by the Brave Companions. My lady, please allow me a trial by combat to prove my innocence. I will name the Maid of Tarth as my champion.”
“You will not get a trial by combat, Kingslayer. Your guilt is already known. You've confessed to our lady that you tossed her son out of a tower after he caught you fucking your twin sister. That alone is enough reason to string you up, but we'd rather display your head outside instead.” Lem grinned menacingly.
It was no use. Jaime lowered his golden hand.
Lady Stoneheart turned her eerie gaze to Brienne, who was trembling. “Let them go, and I will kill him,” she finally said.
Stoneheart nodded to her men, who cut Pod and Ser Hyle loose. The two immediately scrambled behind Brienne, who was still holding his arm. Her eyes were steel.
She is going to do it, Jaime thought, but strangely felt no fear. Instead, all he felt was relief. There were worse ways to die, he supposed, as he knelt onto the ground. At least he wasn't being set on fire. This death should be a quick one, and only hurt for a moment.
He hoped so, anyway.
“Turn him around,” he managed to make out Stoneheart say. “You will look him in the eyes as you kill him.”
Just like Ned Stark used to. Brienne wheeled him around to face her, and he stared up at her large, ugly face, the last thing he would ever see in the world. He didn't mind that, so much.
“It's okay,” he told her as she reached for Oathkeeper. He wondered if Cersei was in King's Landing at this moment, about to be sentenced to death also. He wondered if they would be beheaded at the same instant. Die together as we were born together. “Go away inside, Brienne of Tarth. Do it and be done with it. No one will shed tears for the Kingslayer.” He felt a sudden lump in his throat. “Or are you craven, wench? What are you waiting for? Do it.” Brienne raised Oathkeeper in the air. Her sapphire eyes shone. Jaime refused to look away. His ears rang. The floor was swallowing him. The darkness was coming. It's okay. I will see my father... and my mother... and my son...
“No.”
And Brienne swung her sword, not at him, but at Lem.
“No!” Jaime suddenly felt his arms being grabbed, and someone trying to pull him to his feet. Pandemonium had broken loose. Lem's head was on the floor. The Hound's helm rolled in front of Stoneheart's feet. Brienne charged at the others who had raised their swords. Stoneheart was standing. Jaime was standing, being dragged. He struggled. Brienne lopped off someone's arm. Thoros of Myr stood aside.
“Get him out!” Brienne yelled, and Jaime was being pulled away more forcefully. “RUN!”
Several people attempted to snatch Jaime back, but Pod and Ser Hyle kicked them all aside, and in any case most of them were too distracted by Brienne. Jaime fought to get out of their grasp, but he was too weak, too shaken, and she was fighting and fighting but there were too many of them and it was only a matter of time before... before...
“BRIENNE!” The word exploded out of him, echoing across the cavern walls over and over, Brienne Brienne Brienne. They yanked him out of the room, out of sight, he couldn't see what was going on, he needed to know she would win, she would have to kill everyone, even the children, even Stoneheart, and she was by herself and she was injured but she had a Valyrian steel sword so maybe she had a chance, just a small one, but a chance, he could hear people storming in from other caverns and she was as good as dead and he had failed, Brienne was gone she was gone she was gone.
They hadn't been followed out of the cave, presumably because of the bedlam and confusion. The guard was mysteriously missing. The moonlight stung his eyes. Pod and Ser Hyle had finally let him go. Where were the horses? Stolen, or ran away. Honor is lost, he thought as the three of them took off. Honor is dead.
They reached the path, and Jaime was stumbling and tripping, but Pod was there to catch him every time. He felt sick. The world was spinning.
Then, a shadow approached on horseback. Jaime knew who it was before he got close. He must have been following us this whole time...
“Go,” he croaked. “Help her. Please.”
Ser Ilyn Payne nodded silently, gave his horse a kick, and galloped towards the cave.
They did not have time to stick around. They ran, they ran, Jaime did not know where, did not know where anything was. He could taste bile in his throat. It was snowing hard and the flakes fell on his eyelashes. He couldn't see. He fell over. Someone picked him up. Brienne Brienne Brienne. His dream was a lie. He should never have saved her. He should never have given her Oathkeeper. He should never have sent her on this foolish quest. She should've been at home, at Tarth, safe. Instead, he had led her here. It was his fault, all his fault. He should've known she wouldn't listen to him, of course she wouldn't listen to him, she was too good and noble and stupid.
He did not know how long they had been running, only that he could do it no longer. He fell against the trunk of a willow tree and retched. It tasted bitter in his mouth. He slid and collapsed onto the ground. He wasn't unconscious, but he wanted to be. Pod sat him up and Ser Hyle stood, staring down at him with an indecipherable expression.
“She said your name,” Ser Hyle said.
“Huh?” was the only sound Jaime could muster. He wiped vomit from the side of his mouth.
“Brienne. She was feverish, on the way to the cave, and dreaming, and she shouted your name. Quite a few times.” His swollen face was unreadable.
Jaime wasn't sure how to respond, or why he was telling him this, so he said nothing.
“We should keep moving,” Pod said. “Or hide. They could be tracking us right now.”
“I can't,” Jaime said weakly. He had never felt so helpless in his life. Except maybe when he had lost his hand. He glared down at his golden replacement. Useless.
Ser Hyle looked up at the branches. “Can you climb the tree?”
Jaime shook his head.
He groaned. “I don't even know why I bothered doing this...” he mumbled to himself.
“You can climb,” Jaime said. “I'll sit here and keep watch.”
“Oh, you'll be our guard, will you? The great swordsman Ser Jaime Lannister?” The man let out a loud, rich laugh. Jaime wanted to punch him. “The storm should hide us, for a time. But we should go back and cover our tracks as best as we can. Pod?”
The two trekked out, but not too far, and Jaime shivered. It was so cold. The hanging branches sheltered him somewhat from the snow that was coming down more and more heavily, but not enough. It was difficult to see more than a few yards in front of him. Everything was just vague blobs and shadows.
The sickness was now replaced with an utterly numb and empty feeling inside of him. The darkness was rooted in his feet, his ankles, and slowly creeping upwards, about to overtake him entirely. He didn't know what to do. Where was he supposed to go? Back to King's Landing, to fight for Cersei's “honor”? Or even just to continue on there as Lord Commander of the Kingsguard? The thought seemed laughable. What was the point? But yet, what else was he to do?
I will find Sansa, he thought. I will finish Brienne's quest for her. There is nothing else for it. How he was going to do this when he was a shell of his former self, he hadn't the faintest idea, but it was all he could think of, and all he wanted.
Pod and Ser Hyle had returned. “The snow's covered most of the tracks for us already,” Ser Hyle said. “If we go now, we should be able to stay ahead of them.”
Jaime nodded, and was about to stand up, when he saw something. Someone on horseback. Ser Ilyn? No, this person was too big to be Ser Ilyn. The blizzard was so thick that he could not make anything out.
Pod had noticed this too, and was squinting into the distance. “Who is that?”
“We need to move. Now.” Ser Hyle went to pull Jaime to his feet, but Jaime had already stood up, and was staggering out into the storm, staring at the figure on horseback. The snow hit him like icy stones, but he barely noticed. It can't be...
It was. She was there. Brienne was there. And she was alive.
Jaime mentally praised the Seven and the Old Gods and the God of Many Faces and the Lord of Light and the Drowned God and the Storm God and even the Great Stallion, and all of the others he could think of, as Brienne leapt off of Ser Ilyn's horse and was standing in front of him, snow in her hair and her helm underneath her arm. How had she gotten out? How had she survived? How was she before him now, bruised and hurt but still, amazingly, impossibly, there? A giant wave of relief and gratitude washed over him, because everything was fine now, Brienne was here and hope was not lost, and the darkness was gone.
But then he remembered what she had done and a spark of anger ignited inside his chest once again.
“Hi,” she said absurdly.
He didn't know whether to hit her or kiss her. “I thought I told you not to die for me.”
“I didn't.”
Jaime couldn't help himself and burst out laughing, and Brienne chuckled along with him.
“Jaime, I - this man came in after you left...”
“Ser Ilyn Payne,” he said. “The King's Justice.”
Brienne blinked in surprise. “Someone from Pod's house?”
“Yes, but that's not important. Where is he?”
“He... well, he didn't say anything the whole time, but he shoved me out of harm's way and took over the fighting. I didn't want to run, but he kept pushing me towards the exit. He took half of the Brotherhood out, from what I saw, but before I left, I...” She paused. “You're going to get mad.”
“I don't care. Tell me.” I'm just glad you're okay...
“I promised Lady Stoneheart I would bring her Sansa.”
Jaime wasn't mad, but incredibly confused. “You... what? Why? Even supposing we find Sansa, and supposing she agrees to come with us, do you really want her to see her mother in such a state?”
“I don't know,” Brienne said slowly. Jaime hadn't even noticed that Ser Hyle and Pod had joined them 'til just now. “I just thought... I think maybe, if she sees her daughter again... it might... remind her of who she was. Remind her that she used to be Lady Catelyn Stark of Winterfell, not Lady Stoneheart, who tries to hang innocent boys without trial and cares only for vengeance.”
“This is a very nice little reunion and everything,” Ser Hyle said before Jaime could reply, “but maybe we should get back under the tree. Directly in a storm isn't exactly the best place to have loving conversations.”
Loving conversations? The four of them went back under the willow tree. It still was not offering much protection, but it helped a little.
“I'm sure Ser Ilyn is dead,” Brienne said. She turned to Pod and bowed her head. “I'm sorry.”
“I didn't really know him,” Pod said. “It's alright.” The boy did seem a little sad, however.
“You don't need to apologize to him. Apologize to me,” Jaime said.
“You?” She was incredulous. “I saved your life!”
“Yes, when I specifically told you to do the exact opposite.”
“If you really thought I would willingly kill you, you must be the thickest man in the Seven Kingdoms.”
“Well, excuse me for trying to save your life over mine. Isn't that what knights are supposed to do? Sacrifice themselves for beautiful maidens?”
Brienne glared at him in such a way that it reminded Jaime of the old days, sailing down the river. “Do you remember the boat times?” he asked. Her glare turned into a small smile. “And the bath times?” He wasn't sure why he'd brought that up, or why he was even thinking of it right now.
“That wasn't really a 'time', was it?” Brienne said. “It was more of an exposure.”
“I don't know what you two are babbling about, but we need to put as much distance between us and that cave as possible,” Ser Hyle said over Jaime's chortles. “Or do you want to just get dragged back after all that excitement?”
Heeding Ser Hyle's words, they set out once more, hoping to find shelter somewhere close by. Brienne forced Pod to be the one to sit on the horse, despite his protests that she was much more hurt than he was and she should be the one to ride.
Typical Brienne, he thought. He was struck with an idea. I should knight her. I must remember to do that, when there is time.
“So,” he said, as they clambered through the snow, which was practically half-way up their legs, “I guess this makes us even.”
“I guess it does.” She gave another small smile, and Jaime found himself smiling back. He felt a strange warmth, despite the cold.
“How did you find us?” Ser Hyle cut in.
“I... I heard your laugh, Ser,” she mumbled, looking away.
“Really, now.” He seemed to be pleased by this. “Well, once we find some shelter, I'm guessing Ser Jaime will want to make his way back to his host and the Kingsguard. Won't you, Lord Commander?”
Jaime said nothing, and Brienne suddenly seemed uncomfortable. She walked ahead of them, her fingers lightly touching the horse's saddle.
“Don't you worry,” the knight continued, “we'll send you right on your way as soon as we can.”
“I thank you, Ser... Hiddles, was it?” He had no intention of going back to anyone just yet. The last thing he needed was to lead the Brotherhood right into his camps.
Besides, he had a certain Stark girl to save.