The weather was warm, even though night had already fallen and the darkness surrounded the camp site he was in. It was very different to Winterfell, where it was always cold and one needed to constantly put logs in the fire to keep the bedrooms warm.
Funny enough, he wanted to go back to that cold place, now so many kilometers away.
He sighed, and moved softly as much as he could where he was chained, trying to find a position that was more confortable. Then, he allowed his mind to be filled with the memories he had created during the weeks he had spent in Winterfell, as well as the happiness he'd found there.
He knew that, in the eyes of the army that had captured him, he was a traitor. And he was fine with that. After all, this wasn't the first time that his intentions had been misunderstood. And he was ready to accept all the negative judgments that would surround him, considering that it was such a small price to pay in exchange of all the lives that inhabited King's Landing.
He sighed again, now thinking in a way to break free from his chains. He had come so far at that point; he couldn't afford to stop in that moment, not when he had already broken the heart of the woman he loved. At least that sacrifice had to have meaning. He had to fulfill his purpose.
Brienne. He allowed himself to think about the name of the woman with golden hair and blue eyes that shined more brightly than the sapphires, and he smiled softly. A smile painted with sorrow.
It was then when whispers outside the tent he was locked in woke him up from his daydreaming, and while he was trying to imagine what was going on outside, his little brother went inside the improvised room.
– I thought you were happy.
Jaime sighed yet again, only that this time it was a sigh tinted in pain. He was unable to keep up the farce he started when he decided to leave Brienne alone in the chambers they both had shared. – I was.
– Why coming back to King's Landing, then?
– Because someone has to stop this madness. – Until that moment he had kept his gaze on the tent's ceiling, but when he finished talking, he downed it to fix it in his little brother's eyes.
– The chances of you dying are higher than you reaching her.
– I owe it. I owe to the inhabitants of King's Landing. I have to try. After all… I'm as guilty as Cersei.
The eyes of the one who know served as the Hand of the Targaryen Queen filled with tears when he understood that, behind that wish to stop his sister, his brother harbored a motivation almost suicidal. But fierce.
Tyrion shook his head, and reaching the fetter that kept the oldest of the Lannisters in place, he freed him using the key he had kept hidden in his clothes. – If it weren't for you, I never would have survived my childhood.
It was Jaime's turn to shake his head. – You would have.
The once named "half man" shook his head again, remembering all the times where his big brother kindness was the only thing that kept him going, surviving, learning. – You were the only one who didn't treat me like a monster… You were all I had. – Tyrion's tears drowned his throat, and then spilled on his brother's chest when Jaime pulled him into a sweet and firm hug, a gesture that screamed "goodbye".
Once he was outside the camp, he marched towards the Red Keep, where he knew his twin sister would stand proud, on the Iron Throne, even if the city was consumed by the flames and destruction that accompanied the army belonging to the Mother of Dragons.
He stroked softly his sword, hanging on one of his sides. Fortunately, before escaping, he could retrieve the weapon the Unsullied had taken away from him when they captured him.
In that moment, only Widow's Wail could bring him some degree of peace and strength, despite the grotesque name it had, because that sword made him think about the owner of its twin sword: The woman who had showed him that even a person like him, that dragged unspeakable sins, could retrieve his honor and become a decent man.
He didn't feel alone in that moment, despite the mission he was ready to fulfill. After all, he wouldn't be in that crossroad if he had never met Brienne.
Brienne.
Even if he was so far away, if she was out of sight, she continued to inspire him and everything he did. After all, she had become in a great part of whom he was in that moment, and every time he closed his eyes he could feel the warmth of the maiden enveloping him softly.
It pained him to have left her crying. It pained him like nothing had ever damaged him. But it have been necessary, because if he didn't she would have followed him and he couldn't risk to lose her, to leave the Stark girls without the finest knight in the Seven Kingdoms.
Contemplating his destination while practically running towards it, he wondered if someday she could forgive him. He doubted it, but not even that made him regret his decision.
As long as he could save all that innocents, then everything would be worth it. After all, what was his life, his happiness, in exchange of a future for the population of King's Landing? He wasn't particularly innocent, so the trade was one more than fair.
He was surprised once he entered the castle that once was his home, during so many years, mainly because the state this was in. Crumbling, destroying the memory of the Kings who had gone, and the past of his family.
He remembered the moments he spent there, as one of the Kingsguard, and as protector of the children he never had the chance to raise. He saw Tommen playing with Ser Pounce in the corridors, and Myrcella fluttering around the gardens while singing. He even caught a glimpse of Jeoffrey, when he was just a little child who didn't exhibit the violent tendencies that caused his death in the end.
The visions disappeared while the ceiling collapsed, erasing with it every trace of what his life had been in the past. But he kept going towards the only place he knew he could fine his twin sister.
After all, he did know her.
Once he arrived to the Throne Hall, his suspicions were confirmed. There, sitting on the Iron Thron, dignified and satisfied, was the woman he once thought would love from his birth till his death. And beside her, waited the little man who had become her Hand.
She laughed softly once he saw him cross the Hall towards her. – Hiring a mercenary connected to you wasn't the best of my strategies, I see. What did you offer him that was so good he couldn't reject the offer?
He didn't answer. Instead, he held firmly with his left hand (the only he had) the handle of Widow's Wail, before releasing it. He inhaled profoundly, and spoke. – You don't have place to flee, Cersei. The city is surrounded. Please, stop this madness.
– And you don't have the slightest idea of what I had to endure in order to obtain the power. The things I lost to stand here. – Her voice was fierce, full of determination, and powerful. – A foreign queen won't take away from me the things I have fought for. And if I have to fall, I shall do it as what I am: The true Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.
Jaime shook softly his head. – Can't you see it? If you don't stop know, not having Kingdoms under your domain will be the last of your concerns, since it won't be Kingdoms at all. As we speak, a dragon, ferocious creature, is making its way here. Surrender, and maybe you will live to see tomorrow.
– And give up what's rightfully mine? Let it burn first, let it all burn to the ground.
Apparently, that was some sort of signal, because as soon this words left his sister's lips, the Hand of the Queen started to sneak towards the entrance, like he had a sinister purpose to accomplish. And Jaime was about to chase him, but while he spun to follow Qyburn, Cersei was already onto him to stop him.
– If you want to go after him, then you'll first have to kill me. – She surrounded him in an embrace similar to the ones used by dangerous predators to torture their poor victims, certain that her twin brother would never be able to hurt her.
But she wasn't aware of the journey he had started that fateful day when he was captured by Lady Catelyn Stark, journey that made him realize that he was an existence different from his sister.
"You are not your sister", was one of the last things Brienne had said to him before he left Winterfell.
So he allowed himself to use his golden hand to complete the embrace… while his other hand silently unsheathed his sword.
And for second time in his life, he pierced through the back of the sovereign he had vowed to protect, because protecting thousands of lives was more important than that oath. After all, those innocents didn't deserve to die because of others greed.
A drowned scream, filled with savage rage, filled the air around them for a second before becoming nothing. Soon, the strength that surrounded him vanished, and in his arms fell the body of the person he had arrived with to the world.
He allowed himself to drop a single tear. How could he not? At the end of the day, even if the love he had towards her wasn't a romantic one anymore, she was still his twin sister. Their lives started at the same time, and he had thought for many years that teir lives would end in the same fashion.
How we allowed ourselves to reach this point?, he asked to himself whilst carrying the fragile body in his arms, before letting her rest on the Iron Throne. Once he finished this, he threw there the golden hand that still tied him with his past.
After all, he had understood that the hands of gold are always cold… but a woman's hands, Brienne's hands, will always be warm. Even in the North.
The foundation of the castle roared again, announcing that the total destruction was incredibly near, so he flew outside the hall to reach Qyburn as fast as he could, dodging the falling debris that could kill him in a second if he wasn't careful.
However, his search came to a soon end. With each passing second, the crumbling of the castle increased, and moving through the corridors and stairs seemed to ensure death.
Death that had already reached his sister's counselor, who was laying in the middle of a stairway, with his skull cracked open thanks to the debris that had fallen from the old ceiling.
Then, and just then, his strength flew outside his body, and he collapsed in that spot that now conducted to nowhere. He looked through the non-existent ceiling, and he could see a dragon furrowing the sky, surrounding the Red Keep while spiting fire to the building.
He sighed. There was no place to go anymore. Even if he ran, he wouldn't go outside the construction in time before the castle became carbonized ruins, so he stayed. He stayed in the place he had fallen.
"The perils of self-betterment" had said his brother while they were in Winterfell. He laughed softly. How he had been right.
He was always right.
He closed his eyes, and wished that when he opened, he could be en Tarth, surrounded by beaches of crystalline waters and the sea breeze caressing his cheeks.
He allowed himself to wish that when he opened his eyes, the face that welcomed him could be one that was sweet, noble, with golden hair and sapphire eyes.
He let himself fantasize with waking up in the arms of the woman he loved. In the arms of Brienne of Tarth.
Notes: Yup, I'm still salty. So I fixed it. It's still kinda lame (I'm better at writing about feelings than action, but eh), but better than what we got, I think. This is my canon now!
I got inspiration from Hands of Gold and Evermore (from The Beauty and The Beast), because I think those songs describe very well their dynamic.
Originally I wrote this in Spanish, so, if there's any mistake feel free to point it out!
Review? :3