Peace In Remembering
Months have passed since the fall of King's Landing and for two people within the Red Keep, memories shared may help ease their grief.
It's been a few weeks now since Game of Thrones ended and I've still not quite accepted that we won't be spending any more time on screen with these characters, played by such fabulous actors. As Jaime was my favourite character, I've always been most invested in his story and suspected it would sadly end in tragedy. My one comfort was that Brienne achieved everything she'd thought impossible and managed to experience love along the way. What a Commander of the Kingsguard she'll be! Anyway, I've already written a couple of stories in this world (Love and Fate about Jaime & Brienne at Winterfell; and Loss centring around Tryion learning of Jaime's death, written before 8.06 actually showed that to me), but this was the other one that I've been thinking about since the series ended. Hopefully those we love Brienne, Jaime and Tyrion will enjoy this. I obviously don't own anything to do with these characters and thank the creative genius of George R.R Martin for creating them all.
I'd love to hear your thoughts, so if you have time to leave a review, that would be lovely! Anyway, thanks for reading! :)
…..
Tyrion Lannister tried to keep busy at all times. If he was busy, moving from one task to the next, he had no time to think about the past and the resulting pain that he carried just beneath the surface. There were days when he succeeded, ensuring his time was occupied from dawn until long past dusk, restoring the stability of the now Six Kingdoms. There was certainly enough for the Hand of the King to pay attention to, whether rebuilding the devastation of King's Landing, establishing new trading relationships, or agreeing the kingdom's new partnership with the North, while endeavouring to keep the chances low of other kingdoms following Sansa and breaking away.
It was a job he was good at given the right circumstances. His time as Joffrey's Hand had seen him at his best; playing the games needed to keep him on top. He may have judged himself a failure as Hand to Daenerys Targaryen, but he'd vowed never to make the same mistakes again and so far, he was succeeding.
Yet, on this day, as the afternoon ebbed away, he couldn't stop his thoughts from drifting to all that had happened mere months ago, to all that he'd lost, to how alone he felt.
He walked at times such as these; through the Red Keep, large parts of it now utterly destroyed, out along the waterfront and back, taking as long as he needed to regain his sense of purpose and his composure. Yet some days were harder than others and today was such a day.
He had arrived at the door before he was even aware of his destination. It wasn't locked and the opened doorway revealed it was empty of its occupant. He hesitated for a moment before stepping inside, letting the wave of memories wash over him, not of the room per se, but of the person he'd always associate with it.
His brother.
Brienne kept the space used by the Commander of the Kingsguard orderly. There were few items within it, which made sense. These weren't her personal rooms after all, but an office of sorts.
Tyrion surveyed the room. He could almost pretend that his brother had merely stepped out and would be back before long, ready to tease him for hiding here, seeking an escape from their father, or Joffrey, or from simply being a Lannister. Now more than ever he grieved for all the lost time, his brother's time as a prisoner, only for him to return and not long afterwards for it to be himself a prisoner, before Jaime set him free. The brief time in between, all the more precious now. Tyrion realised the irony that those few short days in Winterfell, before the great battle, had been some of the happiest of his life and he suspected of Jaime's too. Looking back, they'd perhaps never felt so free; almost certain death does that to a person he supposed.
As he ventured further in to the room, he could hear Jaime's voice. "Hiding again little brother?" - the playful, brotherly lilt he'd saved only for Tyrion.
The suit of armour in the corner caught his eye. It wasn't Brienne's Kingsguard armour; he assumed she was wearing it, being able to count on one hand the times he'd seen her in recent months without it. No, this armour bore the marks of the last few years, each small dent and scratch carrying its own story. It may no longer be used, but it stood proudly in the corner of the room and it brought a sad smile to Tyrion's face, as he recalled Brienne's passionate speech in the halls of Winterfell, in defence of his brother, a defence he'd so dearly wanted to bring himself, but had no standing to do so.
"He armed me and armoured me…."
Jaime had given her this armour, a gift greater than any other he'd bestowed on anyone and the fact she continued to display it, made Tyrion irrationally happy; it was a small part of his brother that still remained here.
Turning in a circle, he was about to leave, when he noticed the book, resting on the table against the wall - The Book of Brothers. Yet another book that could sit alongside Arch Maester Walgrave's A Song of Ice & Fire and dictate what history would say, rightly or wrongly, about those included within its pages. As one of the only people aware of the truth behind his brother's actions, those that made his name synonymous with dishonour, Tyrion had on occasion glimpsed Jaime's frustration bubble to the surface at the ignorance of those whose lives he'd saved, of the reputation he'd been given, recorded in ink for all the days to come.
It wasn't his place, but he found himself unable to walk away, instead crossing to the table and reaching for the book's cover. He'd always loved knowledge, but in this instance, his need to turn the pages had nothing to do with educating himself about the histories of the Kingsguard.
It was the handwriting that stood out, as he reached the entry for Ser Jaime Lannister; the two brief lines in his brother's spidery, scratchy writing, a written reminder of just how little Jaime had cared for such delicate activities, preferring to ride and fight. The words themselves didn't even register at first, before a dry chuckle left his throat. Recorded forever as Joffrey's killer? He could live with that. In his mind he could imagine their sister's hand in that little detail. It had her malicious fingerprints all over it.
What followed caused him to catch his breath, words set down with care and clear thought as to composition, flooding Tyrion's heart with a wave of emotion the further he read, turning the page only to find the deeds went on.
Died protecting his Queen.
The simple sentence broke Tyrion's heart, for both the subject of the words, but also the woman who'd written them, who despite her own feelings, had found it in her heart to see all that was good in someone who meant so much to both of them. Ser Jaime Lannister, from Kingslayer, to a man ready to die protecting the Queen – to an Oathkeeper.
Tyrion stood still, closing his eyes to try and regain his composure, holding back the tears that were filling his vision.
"Are you alright, Lord Tyrion?"
Her voice startled him and he turned quicker than he intended, losing his balance for a moment before steadying himself against the table. Brienne's expression was neutral, but her eyes gave away her concern.
"Ser Brienne…..yes…the door was open…..I apologise for the intrusion."
Brienne's focus moved to the open book and she offered him a small sad smile. "You're not intruding and the door will always be open."
They hadn't exchanged many words about his brother in the months since the fall of King's Landing, but he sensed the double meaning in her words; if he needed to talk, she was here. Bowing his head, he let out a quiet sigh.
"I miss him."
His voice was quiet, but Brienne still heard each word and the pain held within them. For a moment, she stood still, before crossing the room, moving by Tyrion, stopping when she drew level with the window, her gaze focussed on the horizon.
"I do too."
Tyrion looked up at her response, but her gaze remained fixed on the view. He'd had nothing but time in the immediate weeks following Dany's death and as well as thoughts of the future for the realm, he'd mainly grieved for the loss of his family, specifically Jaime. It had been during those weeks that he'd wept for him, but also railed against him for his choices. He'd felt such anger mixed in with his grief. Why couldn't he just stay away? Why not stay in the North, with a woman worth so much more than their hateful sister? He'd still be alive if he'd just let it go, let her go.
He'd seen his brother at Winterfell. He'd watched him with Brienne. The bond of affection and respect they had shared had been undeniable in King's Landing; he'd suspected it was one reason Jaime had sent her away to find Sansa, to get her away from Cersei. Yet, watching them in the North, had given Tyrion hope that perhaps his brother would finally be free, that he could start again. When he'd told him of his intention to remain at Winterfell with Brienne, he'd felt relief and happiness that at least one Lannister might get through the madness alive. Yet here he stood – the last Lannister, beside the only person in the world who could understand how that made him feel.
"Thank you."
Brienne turned her head towards him, a questioning frown on her face. "For what?"
"For the words you've written," he replied quietly.
Brienne smiled sadly. "It's the truth and he deserved to have those truths told."
She noticed the expression on Tyrion's face. "You expected me to write something else? Something less favourable? Or nothing at all?"
"Many would have."
"I've never been a bitter woman Lord Tyrion and one action doesn't change my opinion of someone. He was a good man…he just didn't believe it….and he loved his family….."
"He also loved you…very much."
Tyrion's words were spoken softly, but could not have been more sincere. When Brienne gave no reply he looked up at her, seeing she'd turned away from him, looking back through the window and for a moment he saw Jaime standing in that very spot, with a similar expression across his face and remembered it was when he'd told him about his journey home, his journey with Brienne.
"You were the only one….," he began, before stumbling over the emotions conjured by those very words, the last time he uttered them being the last time he saw his brother alive.
Brienne, picking up on his choked tone, met his eyes.
"You were the only one he ever cared for whose name wasn't Lannister. You must know that."
She closed her eyes briefly, the conversation more painful than she expected. "I do."
Tyrion gave a small nod. The idea that Brienne didn't understand how much she'd meant to his brother had troubled him, but he could see that she did know, not that it made the loss any easier to bear.
"Some days I felt sure he would stay….quite a few days…He seemed to think it too….Those were good days…"
Tyrion studied Brienne's expression, as she continued to stare out at the sea, lost in the memories of the past. "But others…he tried to hide it, but I could read the struggle in his eyes….."
Tyrion nodded and let out a sigh. "In a different time…."
"He'd have stayed with me? Stayed away from this place? Would have been standing here too? Perhaps."
She turned back to Tyrion, her eyes holding back the grief she still carried. "Yet, his loyalty to family was something I always respected. It was who he was. I can't think ill of him for being unable to ignore that instinct."
Tyrion took in the woman beside him. Her ability to focus on the good in someone's character, despite what else they'd done, was an attribute few possessed and he respected it greatly.
"I can't think of anyone finer to be Commander of the Kingsguard than you, Brienne and I'm confident he'd think the same."
With a smile, she moved back to the table on which the Book of Brothers rested, closing it and moving it back to its proper place. Tyrion couldn't help but imagine all the deeds that would fill Brienne's own pages over the years to come.
"I should be going," he added. "I have matters to attend to before today's Small Council meeting."
Brienne said nothing, but noticed Tyrion reach out and touch the lion sculpture she'd left on the table, running his hand over it, as his eyes grew sad, before he seemed to push the feelings down once again. The lion was one of the few items she'd kept in the room. Having it there seemed right and brought her comfort when her own grief crept up on her.
Tyrion had reached the door before he turned back to her. "I'd like to hear the story about that bear one day. I still don't quite believe that one."
Brienne offered him a smile, understanding the request underlying his words – his need to have someone with whom he could talk about Jaime. "Of course, Lord Tyrion. I'm sure you have stories of your own to share with me that can match it."
He smiled, the pain bearable again, for today at least. "I do indeed Brienne, but we'll save them for another day."
...
I know our time in Westeros had to end, but I'd so dearly love to have followed the journeys of those remaining, especially these two. I hoped you enjoyed my story and do let me know what you thought if you have time to review. :)