Chapter Text
The sound of the oars breaking the water to move their small vessel forward would have been soothing in some other circumstance, but in a time of war, there was little peace to be found. Brienne stayed quite still, forcing her face to be as plain a mask of indifference as she could. She knew that Podrick was aware of more than he should be – he was far too perceptive of her moods - but the last thing Brienne wanted was for him to know how much this departure caused her turmoil.
He’s a good lad. He knows better than to make much noise. If any of the Lannister men see us leave, they won’t pause to ask for orders from Jaime or Bronn.
Jaime.
Brienne let out a great sigh.
I might have convinced the Blackfish to aid his niece, had I been stronger. Instead, I was weak. I gave into my childish feelings of…
Brienne could not even name those feelings in her mind, but she remembered Jaime’s eyes instead and felt that familiar ache in her heart. I thought that I had long since left those yearnings behind, she thought with disdain at herself. Yet, the way that it felt to have his eyes locked on hers back in the tent caused her such internal conflict that it felt as though she would fall apart from the war between her two selves.
Hope.
Fear.
Desire.
Shame.
“My lady,” Podrick whispered. “There are torches.”
Brienne’s head whipped around at Podrick’s voice, her mind back to the present danger that they were in, her heart quickening at the thought that they might be discovered.
“Stop rowing,” she hissed, straining her eyes against the darkness. Pod did as he was asked. He always did. The water carried them slowly into the reeds like a piece of detritus, their boat scraping against the fallen branches, setting her teeth on edge.
“Sorry, my lady.”
Brienne frowned, her eyes unable to differentiate anything beside the bright spots the torch flames created in the vast darkness. The moon was out, but was not of much help. The drawbridge lowered. Brienne sucked in a breath, her mind switching between the possibilities. If only I were closer, or could hear anything at all. The only sounds that she could hear were the sounds of frogs chirruping nearby, and the sound of Podrick doing his best to quiet his breathing.
“They seem to be crossing the bridge in great numbers,” Brienne said, almost to herself. “The torches – they’re moving so uniformly. It seems that there has been some sort of peaceful resolution.”
“Do you think that the Blackfish surrendered, my lady?”
“No,” she said, frowning further. “Perhaps. I suppose that he may have had a change of heart…”
“Should we go back?”
Brienne turned her eyes in an incredulous glare at Podrick.
“Go back?”
“Well, yes, m-m-my lady,” Podrick stammered awkwardly. “We don’t know if we may bring more good news to Lady Sansa, or not. I just guessed that if there was a surrender, perhaps—”
“No, Pod. It was dangerous for us to enter the Lannister camp in the first place. And we don’t have good news for Lady Sansa, so don’t speak a word of Ser Jaime’s offer.”
“But, my lady, Ser Jaime—”
“Ser Jaime has done all that he can do for us. He may have said that he’d supply some men for the battle, but the reality is that to do so will put him against his own family and the crown. You know that as a sworn sword to Lady Sansa that we are on opposite sides from him, now. It’s likely that he will realize the folly of his words.”
Those words, spoken out loud, pricked at Brienne’s heart. It was a sharp pain. It was the kind of pain that you saw behind your eyeballs before you knew what it was. ‘I will not have you die, my lady.’ My lady.
“Take up the oars again, Podrick. We have quite a bit more rowing until we can make sure that we’re safely out of danger,” Brienne said, closing her eyes lest more tears form as she remembered her last moments with Jaime Lannister. We’ll never be out of danger. “I’ll give you a rest, once we’re around the bend.”
She kept her eyes closed until the torches were pinpricks of light against her back. With each new breath she willed away her thoughts of Jaime Lannister, willed away the further tears that threatened to spill over him. By the time it was her turn at the oars, her mind had cleared of him. The current pulled their small vessel farther from Jaime Lannister, as did she.
##
Even with the current on their side, Brienne and Podrick were unable to get very far downstream from Riverrun by the time that the sun was fully out, exposing their passage. Exhausted, her hunger so fierce that it stuck in her throat, Brienne moored their boat at a location as remote from possible passers by as she could manage.
“Should we go inland to camp, my lady?”
“No,” Brienne said her throat parched, muscles stiff from rowing in her armor, “we’ll have to sleep in shifts here. The land is too marshy and we dare not leave our boat unattended.”
Podrick looked upon the uncomfortable interior of the small boat with resignation.
“I can take first watch, my lady. You must be exhausted from rowing,” Podrick said, his blinking in a way that suggested that he was trying to fend off sleep. “I can manage. Truly. You can depend on it.”
Brienne sighed, knowing that neither of them were in a fit state to keep watch, but that she was the worse for wear.
“Fine, Pod – wake me after the sun’s been up a while. We’ll get going again near sunset - if we’re lucky, we can make it to the crossroads by midnight.”
Brienne shifted about in the boat, with her cumbersome armor preventing her from reclining in the least. Podrick frowned at unsuccessful attempts to resituate herself into a sleeping position, before looking away with embarrassment.
“What is it?”
“Nothing, my lady. I just thought that since we are well covered by the foliage, that perhaps we ought to remove at least some of your armor.”
Brienne was about to tell him off, to remind him of the danger that they were still in, but gave up before she opened her mouth. With a sigh and a marked eye roll, she nodded at him.
“All right then. Go ahead, Pod.”
It was tricky maneuvering for Podrick, to disassemble her armor within such small confines, but he managed it. Piece by piece, he took off the plating which protected her upper half. I ought to procure some better armor for Podrick, she thought, as he removed the last piece. I hope that there will be time for him to practice in it against me, before the battle.
“There you are, my lady.”
“Thank you, Pod,” she said softly, her thoughts turned to the protection expected of her. Brienne shifted uneasily into the best position that she could manage, and closed her eyes. I can only pray to the gods that I’ll be able to protect Lady Sansa and keep my promise; gods willing, Podrick will manage to survive all of this, too.
Brienne drifted into sleep frowning at the divisiveness of the lines drawn in war, her hand firmly clasped about the hilt of her Oathkeeper.
##
Jaime passed her the beautifully hewn Valyrian steel sword, their hands brushing as she took hold of its hilt. The hilt felt perfect in her hand, as though it was the only sword that she should ever hold. Yet, it was the Lannister family sword. It belonged with Jaime. He reached his hand out again, as though to take the sword back, but he did not. He softly laid his hand over hers.
“It’s yours,” he said, his gaze turning slowly from their joined hands to meet hers. “It will always be yours.”
Brienne felt as though a heat spread from the sword into her hand, moving through her body, lighting her from within. As she held Jaime’s steady gaze, she noticed of a sudden that they were no longer in King’s Landing, but were back in the baths of Harrenhal. They were no longer separated by the length of the bath, but were standing together as close as they had been when Jaime first handed her Oathkeeper. Neither were clothed, and the water did not reach above their waists as they stood, but Brienne felt no shame.
“Ser Jaime,” she said in confusion, even though she knew that she was dreaming, “I cannot accept this.”
“Jaime,” he said, his voice a soft growl, as he moved in closer to her, “my name is Jaime.”
The feel of their bare skin touching caused her to shiver, her nipples hardened against his chest. Brienne felt him moving against her, his sex stiff against her thigh, and inhaled sharply.
“Jaime, I—”
“It’s yours,” he said, pulling her into a kiss. She felt as though her heart were about to burst from her chest, its pounding was so fast. She savored every moment, every minute sensation of their joined lips. The feel of his tongue against hers as she mimicked his movements exhilarated her to tears. She neither knew where the sword had gone to separate them, nor did she care. Brienne’s hands traveled instead to Jaime’s waist.
“I love you, Jaime,” she whispered breathlessly as he pulled from her kiss. He leaned into her again, his forehead resting against hers. She thought that he was going to return her declaration, but someone else spoke instead.
“Lady Brienne,” called Sansa to her, with some urgency.
Brienne hugged Jaime to herself, unwilling to let go.
“Lady Brienne,” Sansa said again. “Please wake, my lady.”
##
“It’s midday, my lady. I’m sorry to wake you,” Podrick said apologetically, his eyes turned away, his face and neck the color of a roasted beet. Oh, gods, what has Podrick seen from me during my sleep?
“Stop fretting and get some rest, Pod,” Brienne grumbled at him, unwilling to think on the long list of compromising situations that Podrick had found her in throughout their time together. There really was no such thing as privacy between the two of them. She had witnessed some things that she was sure that Podrick wished she hadn’t. Nonetheless, she thought of Podrick as a younger brother, and she imagined he had a similar view of herself. Still, she felt her ears getting hot from the embarrassment as she wondered at whether or not she had spoken in her sleep. And then she remembered another brother and sister for whom the relationship of chaste versus romantic love was inversed.
Brienne sighed to herself. He may have some love for me, she thought, but it cannot be more than exaggerated pity. How could he supplant his romantic thoughts of Cersei with thoughts of myself? I’m a fool if I waste my time thinking otherwise.
##
When they finally reached the Trident to disembark nearer to the crossroads, the moon was high in the night sky. They had not eaten in more than a day, so their hunger no longer resulted in sounds from their stomachs. For Brienne, it felt as though something was stuck in her throat. Their dogged steps away from the banks of the Trident seemed weighted even further by the apprehension that at any moment they could meet with trouble. Bandits roamed the roads waiting for an opportunity as good as two richly dressed and weary foot travelers. When the Inn at the Crossroads came within view, Brienne recalled their last visit and hoped that they would be lucky enough to find friendly shelter there again.
“Podrick, we will need to be on guard.”
“Yes, my lady.”
“If we are lucky, we’ll find no trouble here. Perhaps we may even have the chance to buy a pair of horses.”
Podrick sighed, loud enough that Brienne was meant to hear it.
“Do you not miss Sapphire?”
“We cannot afford to become over attached to anything or anyone. I accept that she is gone.”
“Yes, my lady. I understand.”
They were within a stone’s throw of the inn, the lights of the inn’s torches and firelight streaming from the windows inviting them closer. They watched the area for a good few minutes from behind some brush, to ensure that there were no surprises in store for them from without before they moved on to check the stable. It was necessary that they check the tack for any identifiers, in case they could spot foes before entering the inn door. As they entered the stable, the smell of horses caused Brienne to relent from her earlier statement to Podrick.
“I do miss Sapphire, Pod. How could I not?” Brienne said, as they peered at the saddles in the dark. “She was a fine horse. I just wish that I didn’t miss her so.”
It was a relief to Brienne that there were no identifiable enemies at the inn – that she could tell – but she knew better than to think them safe. When they entered the inn, it seemed that there were few awake that could be sober enough to recognize her, even if they were the dangerous sort. There were a couple of single men still awake enough to drink their ale, but minding their own business in their own dark corners of the room. Another pair of men were rather more wakeful, but seemed too busy guffawing about whatever to take notice of their entry. Brienne found a table in the corner, facing the others in the room. She would not permit herself to let her guard down even in this seeming haven.
“Podrick, go ask the innkeeper if they still have anything we might eat. It’s late, but there may still be some bread. And we’ll need a room for the night.”
As Podrick passed the pair of men to speak with the innkeeper, soon enough the eyes of the men caught notice of the boy. Then, they turned to look upon Brienne. She kept eye contact with the meaner looking of the two for a moment before turning her eyes to the door at the sound of a distant noise, her hand aiming for Oathkeeper.
Podrick walked back to their table focusing on not spilling the pair of mugs that he carried in hand. When he looked up to see Brienne’s expression, his back stiffened. He set the mugs on the table, his eyes expressing a question before she shook her head, indicating that he should act normally. They had been through this more than a few times, and their shared language of glances and nods was effective.
“Did you overhear what they were speaking of as you passed them?”
“No, I didn’t, my lady. But I saw that one of them was wearing Bolton leathers.”
“Bolton?”
“Yes, my lady – the flayed man. It was the one closest to the innkeep.”
Brienne turned her eyes to the man again, and saw that same man smiling menacingly at her before he used his fingers to illustrate a lewd gesture in her direction. Podrick turned his head just in time to catch the end of that, and immediately stood from his bench. Brienne reached out to grab Podrick’s arm, but could not quite reach.
“Pod!” she hissed at the boy, whose posture was already one of defense.
The benches of the two men across from them scooted back with loud scrapes as they rose to mirror young Podrick. Brienne had no choice but to stand, her hand on Oathkeeper’s lion pommel.
“I know you, Kingslayer’s Whore. Fucked any bears lately?” the man jeered, “Or is it just lions for you?”
“You’ll not speak to my lady that way,” Podrick said, his voice steady and fierce. Brienne had not seen him with such determination outside of their daily training sessions, and was dismayed that it should come out now. Her eyes flitted again to the door amidst this unfortunate scene – she heard noises of horses outside of the inn, men’s voices – and her pulse began to quicken. Should we be set upon by more Bolton men, we’ll be trapped. She looked over the man and recalled that she saw no Bolton insignias in the stable, and that his gear looked mismatched and quite worn.
“You’re a deserter, then, are you?”
“Makes no difference what I am. Makes no difference what any of us are, nowadays. Lords, kings… you don’t matter one bit.”
The door to the inn opened with the arrival of the new guests, but Brienne could not see beyond the door to see who stood at the entry. The man’s eyes went to the door, though, and he froze.
“I have no desire to fight you,” Brienne stated, her voice in a growl. “We only mean to eat our bread in peace.”
“Lady Brienne, I should have known that you’d be inspiring fights in all corners of the kingdom.”
Jaime stepped out from beyond the door, accompanied by The Blackfish, followed by about a half dozen Lannister and Tully soldiers. It was the last sight that Brienne expected, but was most welcome. Interrupting her moment of relief was the sound of the Bolton deserter snorting out a laugh. Jaime turned at that and walked up to the man, staring him down from only inches away.
“What is it that you have yet to say? Out with it,” Jaime said with anger brimming in his voice.
“I don’t want any trouble, Ser.”
Brienne watched the scene, stunned. She could neither fathom why the Blackfish was in company with Jaime, nor why Jaime insisted on prolonging this encounter beyond what was necessary.
“You wanted trouble when this lady was defenseless at the bottom of that bear’s pit, or will you claim that you weren’t there?”
“That was – I didn’t put yer whore in there, mi’lord. I—”
Jaime cracked his golden hand against the man’s face as quick as a viper’s strike, sending the man stumbling backward to fall over the bench onto the ground.
“You speak of a noble born lady – Lady Brienne of Tarth. And she isn’t armed with a wooden sword as she was given in that pit. If I had not arrived, you’d likely be dead, you piece of filth. So thank me, apologize to the lady, and take your leave. After your deserter friend and you sell us your two horses for a ‘fair price’. I don’t care where you go, but you’ll not stay and ruin our well-deserved mugs of ale.”
The Blackfish shook his head, but the slight smirk on his face showed that he had some newly acquired, reluctant respect for Jaime Lannister. Brienne saw Blackfish turn to see her reaction and whatever it was that he saw, it caused him to nod in that knowing way that old men do when they think that some wise hunch of theirs has been confirmed. As the Bolton deserter regained his footing, he apologized profusely in Brienne’s direction, clutching at his bloodied cheekbone. The combination of the Blackfish’s look and the deserter’s forced apologies embarrassed Brienne, and brought her neck to a full pink flush. With a heavy sigh, she walked over to Ser Brynden Tully to offer a greeting.
“My lord, I did not think to see you here,” she said. She tried her best to let her embarrassment go, but it was hard to ignore the fixed look from Jaime Lannister, across the room.
“Yes, well, it seems that you and Lady Sansa managed to remind me of the Tully motto to some success.”
“Family, Duty, Honor,” Brienne spoke admiringly. “I know that Lady Sansa will be grateful for the assistance of you and your men.”
“Yes. Well, if I can accomplish something for Catelyn’s daughter before my time has passed…” he started, and then his face clouded. He’s thinking of his loss of Riverrun.
Brienne turned her eyes to Jaime. He was still watching her from beside the innkeeper, near to the fire. Her heart skipped for a moment as she stared back at him. She was undecided whether or not to go to him when her feet started moving her nearer to him of their own volition. When she reached him, she remembered her dream from earlier in the day, along with the many conflicted feelings that it caused her to go through. She then remembered their kiss from the prior day, and she wetted her lips.
“Ser Jaime,” she said, nodding respectfully for the sake of the others in the room.
“Lady Brienne,” Jaime returned with warmth, seemingly without as much thought to what the others might think. “I am glad to see you. You do know that you left your horses and equipment in the Lannister camp.”
“I did not expect to see you here, traveling aside Ser Brynden and his men.”
“You did not trust my promise from yesterday, then?” Jaime asked a bit defensively.
“Th- That’s not it, Ser.”
“Please stop calling me that,” Jaime said with a sigh.
Edmure Tully entered the room, late to arrive from the stables. He looked about the room as though confused. It seemed that he had no idea of the small altercation that had taken place. Brienne saw him and immediately her thoughts went to Catelyn Stark, Robb Stark, and finally, Sansa. She stiffened.
“Nevermind, Ser Jaime. I am glad that you will be joining us north. I imagine that your men and the Tully men are not far behind?”
Jaime stood in silence for a moment, his eyes shifting between hers, his brow knitted in apparent frustration.
“I am bringing all 8,000 men to the fight alongside the Tully forces,” he said, quietly. “It shall be up to the Freys to manage that keep.”
Brienne’s eyes widened at the number.
“But… what of—”
“Follow me to the kitchen so that we may speak more privately,” Jaime said. His eyes never left hers to so much as glance at their company, all of which were very interested in their conversation. He lead her into the kitchen, which was only lit still by a single candle. He walked toward its light and turned to face Brienne, his eyes pleading.
“What of anything?” he whispered fiercely at Brienne. His left hand enwrapped hers which rested still on the pommel of her sword. “My father wanted me to keep up a legacy which I cannot in good conscience continue. All that I have the will to do regarding his damned legacy is to destroy it. Like Oathbreaker, I aim to reforge it anew.”
Brienne was stunned into silence by his words. His hand relaxed then, but he left it to rest upon hers. He watched her eyes closely, the two of them sharing a gaze which said nothing and everything all at once, until he grasped her hand with his and raised it to his lips. Brienne’s heart raced. Her mouth parted in a gentle sigh as he kissed her hand, all the while his eyes never leaving hers. Brienne swallowed thickly as they stood together in that heady silence. His eyes again traveled between her eyes and her mouth, as he leaned into her.
“We should go back to the room to join the others, Jaime,” Brienne said in a nervous voice, regretting her words as soon as they were spoken.
Jaime’s disappointment was writ large on his features at that moment, but he nodded in agreement. Releasing her hand, he looked up at her eyes, still seeking some answer from her. Brienne found that she could not move, her heart and mind battling over whether or not she should give in and kiss him. I love him, she thought, her heart wildly. I would tell him if I only knew that he would leave Cersei behind him. Jaime smiled at her, as though he could hear her thoughts. I love him.
“Come on Brienne, let’s go get a bite of stale bread and a drink of watered down ale before we get some sleep. I’d say that we deserve a rest.”