Title: Pairing: Jamie/Brienne

Series: Game of Thrones

Rating: 18 Type: AU/ Angst

Summary: What if Tyrion hadn't been goaded into demanding trial by combat and agreed to take Jamies deal and be banished to The Wall. Jamie has now promised his father he will marry and return to Casterly Rock… What will become of them all?

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Game of Thrones characters or anything from the universe of A Song of Fire and Ice. I am just taking the characters and playing with them a while – promising to restore them whole and unblemished! Thanks to GRR for creating these toys for me to enjoy. Please don't take any of my playing as having any bearing on the actual franchise. Enjoy.

()()()

Banishment.

The command echoed down through the courtroom as the Hand of the King straightened his back and announced the details of his punishment for the accused.

Jamie felt his stomach knot.

Yes, there were cheers from the gathered crowd. There were cries for further justice. There were comments that now the Lanisters had two Kingslayer sons… but no one was more horrified than the Head of the Kingsguard.

Banishment… Jamie thought…

Two guards moved to unchain Tyrion from the plinth he had been placed upon and his little brother looked to Jamie with the same blank expression he knew he must be wearing.

Banishment.

They led the guilty away as Jamie looked to his father, the judge.

Tywin had won.

He always won.

Tyrion would be cast further than even The North as a Knight of the Black Watch… if he survived the journey to The Wall.

And Jamie… he would be the Lord of Casterly Rock.

Whether it was overlooking the Sunset Sea or a horizon of snow and ice, it made no difference.

They would be parted.

They would be alone.

"Well Jamie, did you ever think it would come to this?" Tyrion asked, wearily, when they had finally been left in the dismal light of his dingy castle cell. "You, the Kingslayer and father to a new and proud line of Lannisters hailing from Casterly… and Me, the Kingslayer abandoned to a merry bunch of cutthroats, liars, rapists, murderers and thieves…" Then he brightened, "Actually, sounds like I might have more fun that you."

Jamie smiled weakly, "You may yet, little brother," then he admitted, "Father is a fool to underestimate you."

"You think I have some hope, then? A chance to turn this about?"

The older brother nodded, watching his sibling deflate and sink onto his hay-stuffed bed.

"I have character and wit in abundance…"

"And cunning," Jamie added.

"True," Tyrion sighed, "alas, I used those traits little…" He shook his head, "I needed none of them with the Lannister name supporting me."

Tyrion gave another sigh and stood to cross the room, "No, dear brother, it was money that called people to me… from my loyal servants to the whores in my bedchamber… none of them are here now."

"I'm here," Jamie said quietly, "And Pod would be to, had you not sent him away."

Tyrion huffed a laugh, "Pod…" and he smiled to his brother, "I can't be held accountable for the stupidity of others."

"He was your friend, Tyrion…" Jamie chastised.

For a man of small stature, Tyrion moved with speed and urgency, "And nobody must ever know."

Jamie nodded before truly looking in his brothers eyes…

"They would send him to The Wall to stand by me…"

Jamie nodded again.

"So you must never…"

"He's safe with Brienne, Tyrion!" Jamie exploded, shocking himself at the outburst.

His brother's urgency lulled…

"Safe… and far from here…"

The younger man took a step back and regarded him, "Brienne."

"Don't doubt her, brother!" Jamie now took a step, "She has honour and will keep him-"

"Far from here," Tyrion finished, his gaze taking on a different glaze.

Jamie didn't like the look he was giving him and shifted, uncomfortably.

Tyrion took purchase on the edge of his bed, still looking at his brother, "I had not realised we were on first-name terms with the Maid of Tarth…"

Jamie glared at him… but far from making him recoil, Tyrion grinned…

"You fucked her, didn't you?"

The anger pinched his face…

"Oh come on!" The younger brother pouted, "Grant me this flight of fancy… The thought of you and big Brienne, locked in passion…"

Jamie closed his eyes against his words.

"Her modest, pert breasts straining against you," Tyrion continued, "as your engorged cock thrusts forth into her, tight and wet… unclaimed by any but you…"

Jamie grit his teeth and tried to breathe…

"Hearing her gasp and sigh and open as you claim her-"

"Enough!" Jamie growled.

For the first time in his history, Tyrions mouth snapped shut.

Jamie shook himself, trying his best to cast the images his brother had conjured for him to the back of his mind… what hadn't helped was how vivid they had become… because he had had those thoughts before. So it wasn't that hard to have them burst forward…

A sigh shot across the room… it was a sign of irritation… "Oh, my brother…" Tyrion shook his head, "You are in trouble…"

He was saved from answering by a knock at the cell door… "My Lord, Ser Jamie… The Hand of the King demands your presence."

Jamie felt his insides shrivel, "What for?"

"To discuss possible matches," the voice answered beyond the cell, "for your marriage."

Tyrion snorted, "I think your decision has already been made."

With a withering look back at his sibling, Jamie faced his future.

()()()

Jamies hand came up to soothe the fired skin of his face as he coolly replied, "I see you have heard the news."

Cersies eyes tightened and she drew back for another strike, only to be caught in Jamies grip, "I'm starting to think you don't like the idea of it though…"

The woman snatched herself away and retreated to the all-too familiar bottle of wine on the table-top.

Jamie grimaced… what had she become?

What had he become?

"I don't suppose it matters," Cersie said, her once welcoming mouth twisting to bare her teeth as she continued, "I will soon be married to the Tyrell boy and shipped away… Just like you…" and she drank, "Just like Tyrion…"

Jamie huffed, "Surely you aren't comparing your situation to the fate of our brother…"

The goblet smashed down on the table, "He is nothing to me… no brother… no blood. He killed our mother!" She crumbled a little, "He killed our son…"

And for a moment Jamie felt the need to hold her in his arms… but not for the reasons he would have expected… He didn't long to feel her there, nor did he ache to touch her. Those feelings felt so far away from him at that moment it was hard to recall them. It was simply that he couldn't bear to see her pain, just as anyone may feel about a crying woman.

In the time it had taken him to work through the feelings he was experiencing, Cersie had hardened once more and squared her shoulders, "That little cunt deserves all that the North can throw at him."

He disagreed.

"You and I…" Cersei finished her drink and poured another, "We are headed to our own isolation."

"Then we three siblings are equally matched," Jamie concluded, miserably, "Tyrion to death and you and I to life…"

She snorted, burying herself in another drink, "I'm certain you will forget all about me when you have your new bride to bury your cock in."

"As you forgot me?" He snapped, despite himself.

She looked shocked, but couldn't deny it.

Jamie wished he had not heard or could not believe the rumours about the queen regent during his months of imprisonment… but Cersie, like Tyrion, was well aware of the weapons she possessed to make men weaken to her.

Knowing that character trait had made her all the more remarkable and desirable… Jamie frowned… once. But now that he stood here before her, wanting and not-wanting, he listened to his sisters words… but couldn't help his imagination remind him her lips… those thighs… that deliciously warm cunt… had been someone elses while he had fought so long and hard to be with her again… to rest in her again…

"I will have my husband and be expected to bare him children…" Cersie confirmed, looking sickened… "no better than a mare in a field to be bred and bred again…" then she smirked "that is if the little rose has the strength in him to prick me well enough."

Jamie noted that the sentence should have sent a green flame of jealously through him… but it hadn't. Months ago he would have gathered her in his arms and taken her there and then, if nothing more than to prove they were always each other's and no one else's… but there was none of that fire… none of that heat…

Cersei regarded him; was she feeling the lack of something the same way?

She took another drink and sighed, "But you will have your own brood to father." She sank back onto the desk, back hunching over to curve her into the comfort of the goblet in her hand, "I imagine she will be wealthy… Father enjoys making matches with other rich families…" Then she smirked, "Plenty of Tyrells left on the branches of the tree… what a lovely family we will make…"

Jamie took a breath, "Father will not make my match… the decision is mine."

Something changed in the air.

"What?" She asked, the question sounding dangerous…

Jamie shrugged, "I stipulated that I choose who I am to marry, given that I must marry someone-"

The goblet flew past his right ear and silenced him.

Cersei looked to be shaking and, were it not for the rage clearly visible in her emerald eyes, Jamie would have asked if she were cold.

"Get out," was all she said.

He left.

()()()

"A month," Tywin Lannister underlines to his eldest son, "a whole month, Jamie… And you have still not put forward names of potential suitors."

The caramel haired man shrugged, "But there are so many out there it is a large part of the task to whittle down the numbers, father."

Tywin fixed his eyes but shook his head in something closed to annoyed amusement, "You have until tomorrow."

"Tomorrow?" The younger man exclaimed, "But I could be up the whole night through and still have a list as long as my arm for your perusal."

"Had I known my valiant son found so many high-born women appealing," the Hand said, focusing on shuffling a few papers on his office desk, "then I would have made a match for you years ago."

"When it comes to the fairer sex, father, I find difficulty in choosing."

Tywin huffed.

"That must be a trait of all Lannister men, given Trion suffers the same affliction."

The older man froze a moment before startling back to the papers in his hand.

"Have you heard anything of my brother?"

"No," the old man answered, settling into signing his documents, "I shouldn't expect to either, until he reaches The Wall."

Jamie cocked his head, "And you aren't the slightest bit concerned?"

The old man kept his eyes on his paperwork and replied, "Do not imagine, for an instant, you are distracting me from your betrothal…"

"I think it only fair I wait until Cersie has married…" Jamie hedged…

His fathers eyes slowly rose to meet him, "Why?"

"You know how women are," the knight bluffed, "she may take it as a slight that my wedding should follow so quickly on the heels of her own…"

"If I find your sisters husband betrothed goes missing," Tywin Lannister began, angling a finger at his son, "or in some way comes to harm before or after their union, Jamie…"

"Father, please," he dismissed, "I will not harm the boy and I will not delay or seek to destroy my sisters match with house Tyrel…"

Tywin cautiously dropped his threatening stance…

"I was simply saying that we are marrying very close in time to one another… too many festivities in the household could label us all…"

The older man snorted, "This family have borne many labels… why not another?"

"I simply…"

"Names, Jamie," Tywin insisted, returning to his paperwork. "Bring me the names of your choices."

Frustration grew and Jami found himself pacing toward the great desk and, to his fathers shock, picked up the quill and scratched a name onto the parchment before him and turned to leave the room.

"This is your decision?" Tywin shouted after him as he reached the door, "I will hold you to it…" And Jamie closed the door, "And I want proof of her bedding!"

What had he done?