The first thing she heard over the loud yattering that was coming from the pubs many, well oiled customers, was the defined clinking of plated boots across the stone floor getting closer and closer. She knew the sound well; iron, steel, possibly gold, not the kind of footwear a common farmer or passerby would usually wear, especially not in the desolate, shit hole, corner of the world she had suddenly found herself in.

Lowering her head so that her large, white hood covered her face, the sound of the wooden stool that sat beside her dragging across the floor ripped through her ears and the shadow of a person cast itself across the table in front of her. Her blue eyes shifted towards it for a moment before moving towards the glass that sat in front of her.

"I never expected it would be this difficult to find you." A familiar voice lulled out. "Ser Brienne of Tarth."

Brienne looked up and suddenly azure met emerald, and gods, it almost killed her. It was strange looking into a pair of eyes you knew so well, but were surrounded by a foreign face. It almost brought her hope for a moment, almost made all of the whispers she had heard; the rumors that had spread go away in an instant.

Almost.

But not quite.

When she said nothing at all, Tyrion Lannister raised his tankard to his bearded lips and took a swift swig before lowering it back to the table, smacking his mouth in a satisfied manor.

"I was quite surprised when I went to Winterfell and was informed that you had stepped down from being the Stark's guardian on your own accord. Even more surprised when Sansa told me that you hadn't told her, or anyone for that matter, where you were going."

"The war is over. Sansa has more than enough protectors now, she didn't need me anymore." Brienne finally spoke, her voice quiet, her eyes still glued to her cup of water. It was mostly true, she knew it and so did he. After the fall of the Dragon Queen, any man who was left either stayed in King's Landing with Davos and Gendry, fled back overseas, or joined Sansa in the north as protectors of the Lady of the North. Even the a great war hero like Jon was not that far off if she ever needed assistance; the last she had heard was that he had returned to the free folk. For the first time in many years, Ser Brienne of Tarth was no longer needed.

Tyrion's lips pursed together and he nodded a few times, thinking about her words.

"I suppose you're right." He agreed after a moment. "Things finally seem peaceful in Westeros. It's almost unsettling."

Lifting his tankard again, he took another drink.

"I wouldn't say that." She murmured, shrugging her cape shoulders. She sounded tired, more tired than she should have sounded. She hadn't fought at Kings Landing; she hadn't done any fighting since five months ago, since the Battle of Winterfell. Tyrion eyed her for a moment before his expression became solemn and he took a deep breath.

"You know," he became, almost in a whisper. Realizing that the loud atmosphere may not assist him in being heard, he scooted closer to her. "I was there that day. At Kings Landing."

"I assumed you were. You went to fight for your Queen."

He shook his head, his shaggy hair that now looked much more kept than it had in the past ruffled against his forehead.

"I mean I was there." The tone of his voice made her heart drop deep within her chest and her stomach twist. "I know you know what I mean."

And she did know. She knew exactly what he meant. She knew that he must have been there when his brother, Jaime Lannister killed their sister and ultimately ended the war himself, all while being mortally wounded by the heartless Queen herself. She hadn't been there, and she tried to keep herself away from talk, but it was a difficult thing to do on the road, especially when the once despised King Slayer had suddenly become the renowned Mad Queen Slayer, savior of the Seven Kingdoms. She should have been happy for him, happy that he was finally able to wash his hands clean of the curse he had set upon himself from bending to Cersei for all of those years. But she only felt hurt and suddenly alone.

"I'm sure," her voice broke slightly and she had to clear her throat. "I'm sure he fought very admirably."

Brienne inhaled deeply, the air in her lungs shaking her entire body as she did so. Tyrion took notice and frowned beneath his beard, but his eyes remained tranquil.

"I arrived after that part, I'm afraid." He paused. "I spoke with him just before he left this world."

Brienne's eyes suddenly began to burn with the anticipation of tears. She rarely ever cried since becoming an adult, in fact she could count the amount of times she had on one hand. Jaime Lannister, unfortunately had been two of those time.

Part of her really didn't want to hear what Tyrion had to say about his parting words. But the other part of her wanted it more than anything, needed it. She knew the imp was waiting for her to tell him to continue or to bugger off, she was just unsure of which to give him. Finally after a few moments, she released a heavy breath she hadn't realized she was holding and looked at him again. Her eyes refused to look at his though; they held too much resemblance to his.

"And what did he say?" she asked in a whisper. Tyrion shifted in his seat once again and looked at her very seriously.

"He told me to tell you...that he was sorry for leaving you like he did, sorry for the things he said to you and did to you, sorry for never telling you...that he loved you."

Brienne almost scoffed at his words and a single tear escaped her eye. Quickly she lowered her head, hiding it once more and shot her hand up to wipe it away. Flashbacks of that night rushing through her mind. She had thought she was over this; she should have been over this. But she wasn't.

From the moment she had first met the King Slayer, she had hated him. He was a horrible, egotistical, warped man who cared about no one but him and his sister. But over time, their relationship grew into friendship, and eventually that had blossomed into something more; she had let her guard down with Jaime, gave her virtue to Jaime, and worse, gave her heart to Jaime. She had fallen in love with him and he had left her to go back to Cersei. Of course now she knew that it was not out of love, but out of the desire for an escape to his inner turmoil. He was a broken man, and he didn't believe that he deserved her love, so he broke her heart, and left, knowing full well that he may never come back.

How dare he.

How dare he never tell her.

"That's why you came here then, to tell me that."

Tyrion nodded. "I swore an oath to my brother on his deathbed that I would deliver the message to you. You know better than anyone about the honour of keeping a promise."

"I do." She agreed with a nod. "Your oath has been fulfilled. Thank you...Lord Tyrion. I'm sure Ser Jaime would be satisfied."

Tyrion held back from saying anything more and looked down at her drink, about to suggest they have a drink together, for Jaime. The clear liquid in the cup however made him hesitate, and instead he took his own drink and gulped it down. They sat for a few moments in silence after that.

"What will you do now?" Tyrion broke the silence after a few moments. He was never good at keeping quiet. "Go back to Tarth?"

"I haven't decided."

Brienne sniffled back, and for the first time picked her drink and took a short, delicate sip. She could see Tyrion eyeing her and suddenly felt as though it was time to leave. She placed the cup down.

Tyrion watched her for a moment more, but could tell how uncomfortable she had become under his gaze. Clearing his throat, he jumped down from the stool, his feet clicking against the ground.

"Well, forgive me for such a brief meeting after all of this time, but I really must be off. I left Pod alone with all of the chamber maids at Casterly Rock, and, well, we both know how that may end."

Brienne chuckled a bit at his subtle attempt to lighten the mood.

"How is he?" she asked with a smile.

"He's a war hero surrounded by beautiful women."Tyrion snickered. "He's living life better than I am."

"That's good to hear."

Tyrion took a few steps towards her and placed one of his calloused hands atop hers. She looked down at it. The gesture was gentle, comforting.

"If you ever need anything, anything at all." He said quietly. Brienne swallowed and looked up at him, allowing her eyes to meet his, even if only for a moment.

"Thank you, Lord Tyrion."

Tyrion nodded and gave her hand a quick squeeze before beginning away. Brienne looked over her shoulder, watching him for a moment. Something deep within her was screaming at her to stop him from leaving. She was lost, and for a moment Tyrion had made her feel found, to feel herself again. She wasn't sure if she would ever be able to love another like she had loved Jaime, but right now she needed someone to be there for her. She needed familiarity and comfort.

"Lord Tyrion!" she shouted and quickly got to her feet. Tyrion, who was only a few feet away, stopped and turned around to look at her; his eyes fell to her stomach. She was wearing a large white cloak and a turquoise tunic underneath, but the slight swelling of her stomach made it very clear.

She was pregnant.

He stood for a moment while his thoughts processed. Brienne looked away awkwardly but she brought her hands up to touch her belly lightly.

"If...you will allow it. I would like to ask if I can return to Casterly Rock with you."

She knew how idiotic she sounded, how childish. But she couldn't be alone in this state; she had gone too long that way. The baby, her baby would, in all technicality be a Lannister. She wanted him or her to be raised by family. She wanted them to know their heritage, to know their father, and she knew Tyrion would provide that.

Finally Tyrion smiled and bowed his head.

"If you wish."

They both walked out of the pub towards the horses, a sudden swarm of relief filling Brienne.

"I could always use a strong knight by my side." Tyrion chuckled as he climbed on his horse. "Once your situation has changed, of course. Pod's good but he would make a terrible fucking knight."

Brienne laughed and hoisted herself careful on her own.

"I would be happy to oblige."