Brienne of Tarth was not a maiden who waited for her knight in shining armour to rescue her. She was not someone who allowed anyone to fight her battles for her, nor someone to go back on her word. For as long as she could remember, there was the right thing to do, and the wrong thing to do. No in between. No grey area. Keep your oaths, uphold your vows, prove your loyalty. It was simple and honourable. She served her Lords and Ladies well, and had never second guessed her judgement. Well, never until she was acquainted with the handsome, arrogant Lannister known as the Kingslayer.
She'd first laid eyes on him in the service of Lady Stark, standing by her as she spoke with the chained, rugged mess of a man. Even with an unshaven beard, a ratty mop of hair and some scrappy cloths for clothing, Brienne could not deny how handsome the Southerner was. Of course, at the time, he had been only a Kingslayer. That was all she saw him as. A dishonourable knight who'd broken his vows and betrayed his King. She would be lying to herself if that's all she thought of him now.
As Lady Catelyn had commanded, Brienne had set off to deliver Jaime Lannister to Kings Landing, to trade him in in exchange for the Lady Stark's daughters, Sansa and Arya. At first, of course, they could barely stand each other. Bickering, throwing insults at one another, even a duel along the way had made for a rough start to their companionship. When captured by Locke and his men however, the two had begun to form an unlikely bond. They travelled, tied up back to back on a horse in the pack. Brienne remembered the way the Kingslayer's voice had lowered when he had said they would rape her that night after they set up camp. She remembered how she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, and the way her stomach knotted in fear and anticipation as they sat tied to trees, opposite one another. But as Locke's men untied her and dragged her away from the campfire and into the darkness, the Lannister had done something she would never have expected. He'd made up lies to get them to stop. Lies about how her father would pay a weighty ransom in sapphires if she were returned to him 'undamaged.' Soon she was sat back by the tree, staring at him with eyes that searched for a reason as to why he'd helped her. Jaime knew that Tarth had no sapphire mines; it was called the Isle of Sapphires because of how blue it's waters were. He owed her no debts. He'd been her prisoner for days before they were stuck with the Boltons; she'd given him no reason to help her. But as the Lannister avoided her gaze and continued to sweet talk the Bolton-serving tyrant, she felt an immense amount of gratitude towards him. No matter how they'd come to this moment, no matter the things he'd done in the past, she felt that below that handsome face and Lannister name, there must have been some good in him.
It had been a few days since that moment. Brienne entered the bath chambers. It had been a rough few days of traveling, and she needed a good wash. Jaime had lost his right hand, his sword hand, and was probably with a maester being tended to right now.
There were moments when he was giving up. Refusing to eat, hardly drinking, falling to his knees in front of the Bolten men — the journey had been difficult for him in body and soul. She had refused to give up on him though, pushing him and urging him to live, to take revenge. He had caught her eye at that second, as they were sitting at their own separate fire, and took a bite of the stale bread they'd been given to eat. She felt proud that she'd been able to get him to try, and to live another day. Every day, she cared more for him. Every day, she could see more goodness in him.
Brienne stripped down and stepped into a steaming hot tub, enjoying its warmth after having travelled for what felt like weeks. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back on the edge of the tub. All she had to do now was to convince Roose Bolton to let them be on their way, and then hopefully, she would make it to Kingslanding without any further…complications. They would meet with him tomorrow night for dinner, and she would explain how they are loyal to the same family, the Starks. And he would let them be on their way.
Then she would be able to get Jaime - the Kingslayer - back to where he belonged and bring the Stark daughters home to their mother. She should have felt good, that she was soon to reach them and fulfil her oath to Catelyn Stark. But of course, that meant leaving the Lannister in Kingslanding as she returned with the Stark girls, and at the thought something hurt in her chest. A slight, subtle pang. The last time she had felt it was the moment a shadow drove a dagger through Renly Baratheon's back. She had been his Kingsguard, and she couldn't save him. Of course, that had been a lot more painful than a slight pull at the heart, but until now she'd not felt anything remotely like it. Brienne admitted that she'd grown fond of Jaime over time, but regardless of her feelings towards the Kingslayer —not that she had any — she would remain loyal to Catelyn Stark. She pushed her insignificant thoughts aside and grabbed the scrubber and soap, washing the grime and dirt off her body.
Although she'd always been ridiculed and humiliated for her size and stature, Brienne was not truly ashamed of her body. She felt strong, powerful and liberated when she fought or duelled. But of course, there were times when she felt lonely or unwanted. She knew she was ugly, she knew no man looked at her and found her physically attractive. She did have a feminine curve to her body however, despite her height. And at times Brienne privately wished that one day someone would find her beautiful.
Brienne had gotten most of the fifth off her body when she heard the door open. Her eyes darted to the dimly lit doorway but she couldn't make out the figure. She continued to scrub her arms, her eyes still trying to make out who it was.
"Not so hard, you'll scrub your skin off." Jaime. Brienne both relaxed and tensed at the same time. She was naked in a bath tub and he was here.
"What are you doing here?" She questioned of him. A younger boy helped him out of his rags before he hastily scurried him off. He looked better than he had been last night, but still so worn. He was thinner, hair dirty and rugged, and his right hand…
"Needed a bath," he said shortly, before dropping the cloths from his lower body. Naked now, he wandered over in her direction. She expected him to get the one beside hers, but he came towards her. Brienne continued to scrub her arm, acting as if she wasn't uncomfortable or maybe nervous at the situation.
"There's another tub," she shot out hastily, moving to the corner of the tub. Her heart rate picked up as he faced her and began to climb in. She tried to avert her eyes without looking intimidated but felt a little unsuccessful.
"This one suits me just fine," the Lannister said. He lowered himself in right across from her, and at first neither of them said anything. What could she say? How's the stump? Missing your sister? All of a sudden it felt impossible to make any normal conversation with him, even though they had been talking freely with one another for days. She pulled her legs to her chest and wrapped her arms around herself, feeling venerable. "Oh relax. I'm not interested," the Kingslayer said roughly. She should have been reassured by it, but something pulled at her heart once again. She stole a glimmer of his face, he really was so handsome. Over the last few days she'd begun to understand why ever maiden in the South spoke longingly of the great Jaime Lannister: Kingslayer, Commander of the Lannister Army and Kingsguard Knight. Brienne said nothing and so he continued. "If I faint, pull me out. I don't intend to be the first Lannister to die to a bathtub." He said gruffly.
"How should I care how you die?" She retorted. It sounded cold and harsh from her lips but it wasn't how she wanted to speak to him. Somehow it was just the only way she could.
"You swore a solemn oath remember? You're supposed to get me to Kings Landing in one piece. Not going so well it is?" She might have found him deviously handsome and not as heartless as she originally thought, but the Lannister was starting to anger her again. "No wonder Renly died with you guarding him." In an instant, a fire erupted in her and she lunged at him, shoulders square, brow tight. How dare he? He knew of her affections for Renly. He knew she would have done anything to save him that night. She suddenly found herself standing before him, fully naked and bare. She dared not back down though. The only thing worse than standing here in front of him, naked, was to back down and let him think she felt venerable and embarrassed. She stood her ground — how dare he be so careless in his words. His eyes held hers for a moment before they raked down her body and he looked down, avoiding her burning gaze. Brienne felt the knot in her stomach tighten. Did he find her repulsive? The thought almost made her lip quiver. "That was unworthy, forgive me." He said quietly. "You protected me better than most could have - "
"Don't mock me." He said that about Renly and now he dared ridicule her? Maybe there was no goodness in him after all. Her fists clenched.
"I'm apologising. I'm sick of fighting - let's call a truce." His eyes met hers now, never wavering.
"You need trust to have a truce." His eyes lowered to the water again, blinking rapidly. He drew a short breath before looking up once more.
"I trust you." She felt a subtle chill run down her back, and Brienne retreated back to her corner of the tub, unsure of how to feel. She heard Jaime breathe a sigh and she felt the need to be next to him. She dared not look at him if she wanted to stay where she was.
"There it is. That's the look. Seen it for seventeen years, face after face." Brienne continued to divert her eyes, refusing to look at him. "You all despise me," he continued. "Kingslayer…Oathbreaker…Man without honour…" he trailed off. Brienne soon came to realise that maybe there was a reason for the Lannister's actions. "You heard of wildfire?"
"Of course."
"The mad king was obsessed with it. He loved to watch people burn. The way their skin blackened, blistered…melted off their bones. He burned Lords he didn't like…he burned hands who disobeyed him. He burned anyone who was against him. Before long half the country as against him." Brienne's face softened as he listened to him. Jaime's eyes met hers and she said nothing, urging him to go on.
"Aerys saw traitors everywhere, so he had his pyromancer place caches of Wildfire all over the city. Beneath the Sept of Baelor and the slums of Flea Bottom. Under houses, stables, taverns, even beneath the Red Keep itself." Brienne tensed as the story went on. A small part of her was questioning why he was even telling her this, but she pushed it aside to ponder upon later. For now, she wanted to hear this. Perhaps the Lannister was not the enemy she had always perceived him to be. It puzzled Brienne, she didn't like it. Until she'd met Jaime, it was always simple who your friends and your enemies were. Now she wasn't so sure. Jaime's face grimaced slightly before he went on. Clearly this was not something he told to just anyone.
"Finally, the day of reckoning came.. Robert Baratheon marched on the capital after his victory at the Trident. But my father arrived first, with the whole Lannister army at his back, promising to defend the city against the rebels. I knew my father better than that. He's never been one to pick the losing side. I told the Mad King that much. I urged him to surrender peacefully. But the King didn't listen to me. He didn't listen to Varys, who tried to warn him. But he did listen to Grand Maester Pycelle, that grey, sunken cunt. 'You can trust the Lanisters,' he said. 'The Lannisters have always been true friends of the Crown.' So we opened the gates and my father sacked the city."
Jaime continued to explain that the King had ordered him to bring him his Father's head, before instructing the pyromancer to burn the city to the ground. "Burn them in their homes, burn them in their beds…tell me; If your precious Renly commanded you to kill your own father and stand by, while thousands of men, women and children burned alive would you have kept your oath then?" Brienne felt her heart sink. She had judged him so wrongly and just assumed he had murdered the King out of the cold cruelness of his Lannister heart. He had been treated so wrongly. The Mad King was a monster, everyone knew that. Jaime, by killing the pyromancer and the King, had saved so many lives. Brienne felt the overwhelming urge to wrap her arms around him and somehow earn his forgiveness. She had been wrong about him. The Lannister finished the story by explaining how he killed them both, and was then found by Ned Stark, who like everyone else, assumed he'd murdered his King in cold blood. Brienne's eyes were wide now as she watched Jaime tremble. She didn't know what she could do to help. She didn't know what she could say.
"If this is true, why didn't you tell anyone?" She asked tentatively. "Why didn't you tell Lord Stark?"
"Stark," he stammered. "You think the honourable Ned Stark wanted to hear my side? He judged me guilty the moment he set eyes on me." His head rolled around as his eyes began to droop. His breathing deepened and Brienne's heart lurched. "By what right does the wolf judge the lion? By what right?" Suddenly he lurched forward. Brienne met him in the middle, catching him in her arms as he went limp. He breathed deeply and there was a look on his face that Brienne could not understand.
"Help! The Kingslayer!" She called out as he stared up at her. Her heart ached. She'd taken him for a man with no honour, no goodness. She'd been wrong, and she didn't know how to fix it. Her face was so close to his, her arms wrapped around his body and he relaxed in them, as if it was where he was supposed to be.
Brienne's heart was thumping violently, and she wished she could help him. Her lip quivered as she stared at his tired, worn face. Someone would arrive soon. He would be okay. She swallowed as he took another breath, "Jaime. My name's Jaime."
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