Author's Note: Hello everyone! Welcome back! Thanks for sticking around!
Reaching back to the last chapter, I was honestly a bit anxious about posting it - because it's no "fun" topic to talk about, really, and I already feared for many nopes to come my way, but I figured that since I'm writing a story about how the two grow up, it kinda belongs to the whole process, which is why I decided to include it after all.
To jbfangirl: I don't want to spoiler, obviously, but you are right, that was the vibe I wanted to transmit, and just how close they get in their childish understanding of the world as it is up to this point - without realizing the implications. But I have plans, many plans.
To the kind guest reviewer: I am glad that you enjoy the story so far. I really hope that I'm soon on AO3 as well, but that takes a little time.
In any case, I hope you'll enjoy this chapter as well ^^
A few days later, the two are back to their usual routines, the small incident long since forgotten. They just returned from riding the horses. Brienne claps the stallion on the back as she heads out of the box. Jaime leans against the wooden frame of the box, twisting the wheat's head he gathered when they stopped nearby a field to rest in his palm absently.
Once she closes the box, the two start their way back to the castle.
"Jaime?" she asks after a while.
"Yes, my wench?" Jaime grins, his eyes fixed on the bright sky above them.
"Cersei is pretty, right?" Brienne asks.
"The fairest girl in all of Casterly Rock, yeah. Why?" Jaime replies automatically. He tilts his head to look at Brienne, who ducks her head, "It's nothing."
"It is something if you bother to ask me," the boy insists.
"As I said, it's nothing. Enough of that," she declares. "I want to see Tyrion. The boy can't seem to get enough of the stories."
"Please, he loves your stories only because of my excellent co-performance," Jaime argues. Ever since Brienne decided to read to Tyrion, Jaime is part of the reading in that he enacts all of the stories. He plays all characters at once, wrestling himself to the ground, dying dramatically, jumping high in the air to fly away, sighing and whipping his head around the way the dumb geese do, dancing around to the song she hums, and slaying imaginary dragons and monsters with his wooden sword. Tyrion takes great pleasure in the reading sessions, and in fact Jaime and Brienne do, too.
"Of course," she snorts. The two start their way to Tyrion's chamber. As they pass by the patio, they can spot Cersei with a few friends.
"Oh, is she having someone over for visit, too?" Brienne asks, trying to sound enthusiastic about it. She doesn't want to give Jaime the impression that she doesn't like her. For that, Jaime loves Cersei too much in turn.
"Seemingly," he replies through pursed lips. Brienne grimaces as he stops, eyes narrowed at the entourage around his sister.
"Is something wrong?" she asks, coming to stand a bit away from him.
"No, no, nothing," Jaime replies, though both know it's a lie. "Hey, how about you go ahead already? I will be there shortly?"
His eyes won't leave his sister at all now.
"Oh, of course…," Brienne grimaces uncertainly. Before she can say anything more, Jaime already stalks over to where his sister is seated among a bunch of boys, as it turns out.
"Jaime! I didn't see you all day," Cersei greets him with a huge smile.
"I was with Brienne. Who are your friends?" Jaime demands.
"Jim, Renny, Waldor, and Bolton. They are squires here and were so kind to keep me company. After all, I hardly have any since we have the house guest," Cersei replies. Jaime sets his jaw in a straight line, his feelings suddenly in a turmoil to the point that he can't tell one thought from the other.
"Why don't you come sit with us?" she suggests.
"I was actually just about to read a story to Tyrion, with Brienne…," Jaime says, his voice trailing off, but Cersei goes on in her humming tune, "Oh, then of course you must tend to the beast. If you don't mind, I will go on with the lovely chat with my friends, then. Did you know that Bolton can hit a target with a knife from ten feet away? I find that impressive. How about you?"
"I hit the target from twenty, no trouble," Jaime replies.
"Ah, you are right. But as you said, you have to go," Cersei argues with a small grin.
"I think I can spare a few minutes," Jaime says automatically. "Does anyone have a knife?"
Brienne, after Jaime took off to see his sister, quickly made her way to Tyrion's room, who greeted her giddily, but looked rather confused at the fact that she came alone. Brienne simply took the boy by the hand and led him over to their usual spot, leaning against a wall with dozens of pillows on the ground. She pulled him into her lap, and the boy happily pressed against her.
Now they are sitting there, in silence.
"Where's Jaime?" Tyrion asks after a while.
"He's seemingly a bit late," Brienne replies.
"But he promised to come," Tyrion argues vehemently.
"I know, Tyrion. But there was certainly some important business he had to attend first. And I am sure he is very sorry for not being there on time. He was excited about it all day, I assure you," Brienne tries her best to comfort the small boy, realizing his distress. She knows what that business is, but that doesn't mean she has to burden Tyrion with it.
"But the story…," he says, his lower lip quivering.
"Well, maybe we can start without him? Would you like that?" Brienne suggests.
"But Jaime said he'd come," Tyrion insists. She pats him on the scalp, "I want you try something out for me, little one. Will you do that for me?"
He nods, sniffling softly.
"Good, I want you to close your eyes, and concentrate as hard as you can," she tells him. Tyrion does so, nodding frantically, "Uh-huh."
"Very well, so now I want you to picture Jaime standing right here, with his smug, stupid grin. Can you see him?" Brienne goes on. He nods again.
"And now you imagine strings attached on his arms and legs. Can you do that?" Brienne asks him with as much enthusiasm as she can muster.
"Uh-huh," Tyrion nods, licking his lips.
"And now you will realize that you can move him as you please. Do you see it?" the girl says.
"Like a puppet," Tyrion nods, and she agrees, "Like a puppet, right. So now, I will read the story to you and you will move the Jaime inside your head the way Jaime did it the other times before, or if you feel like it, have him move around in a way he didn't yet. Then we can tell him to do it the next time for real."
Tyrion nods, eyes closed, as Brienne starts to read, "Once upon a time, there was a peasant boy. He had no riches and no last name, but he was a hard-working lad, honest in heart and spirit. One day, an old man passed by his cottage. The boy, realizing how exhausted the old man was, offered him shelter, food, and drink. The old man told him that this was already the seventh cottage he had passed by, in the hope that someone would help him, but that the others had always sent him away. The boy only said that it is the right thing to do, and offered the old man his own bed to sleep in, while he slept in the hay himself. The following day, the old man wanted to head his ways again. He thanked the peasant and gave him a silvery egg as a reward..."
Today makes Brienne realize three things.
The first is that Tyrion really is an adorable child, and she loves him like the little brother she never had. While she had an older brother and two little sisters, she never had a little brother, and if Tyrion had been born a Tarth, she would have been very happy about that.
The second thing Brienne understands is that she is not Cersei. And that means that if Jaime is to pick between her and Brienne, the choice will always be his sister, for she is the fairest girl in all of Casterly Rock.
The third thing the young girl realizes is that while Tyrion and she may attach imagined strings on Jaime's imagined body to move him in a certain way inside their heads, the only one who can make Jaime move a certain way in the real world is Cersei.
And so Brienne tries to pull Tyrion and herself into the story the best she can, hoping that this is a place Cersei cannot follow them to.
"My father wrote to me. He'll return to Casterly Rock tomorrow, if everything goes according to plan," Brienne says, her legs dangling from the wall the two are seated upon, enjoying the view of the sun disappearing into the ocean.
Jaime was very apologetic after he missed out on the reading session. However, Brienne tries her best not to hold any grudges. And she tries her best to understand that Cersei has a sort of power over Jaime that leaves him in fact powerless against her. Yet, for as long as Jaime apologizes and returns, she doesn't mind, or well, she can look past it. Friendship, yes, friendship, of that she is certain now, is too precious to throw away over such matters.
Brienne doesn't dare to say out loud just how satisfactory it was, but to see Cersei narrowing her eyes at Jaime over the fact that he and Brienne went on playing and jesting the way they always did the very next day already made her grin mischievously.
"Well, then I hope it doesn't go according to plan. Then we'd have a bit more time," Jaime argues. He is honestly glad that Brienne didn't hold it against him that he didn't show up to the reading session the two had planned on with Tyrion. He knows just how seriously Brienne takes promises, however small they may appear to other people. Every promise is an oath, and an oath is something you have to fulfil no matter the costs.
"I wished so, too, but my Father is usually always on time… but maybe you can come to Tarth the next time?" Brienne suggests hopefully.
"I hope so, but I don't know if Father will let me," Jaime shrugs. This reunion already took over a year, and only came about because of fortunate circumstances. Jaime doesn't know if fortune will be on their side once more.
"Well, we can hope after all," Brienne shrugs.
"And we'll write in any case," Jaime assures her.
"Absolutely," she nods in agreement.
"You will have a lot of writing and reading to do once Tyrion can do both these things. He will send so many ravens that you'll have no way to feed them all. The castle will be covered in black birds," Jaime chuckles. While Tyrion is still too small for such feelings, it seems as though he became a bit infatuated with his giantess.
"Tyrion will write to me already now, didn't you hear?" Brienne smiles.
"What now?" Jaime frowns.
"He insisted that he will draw me pictures. And I am very much looking forward to all of them," Brienne smiles happily.
"More than to my letters?" Jaime looks at her.
"Of course. For Tyrion, it's a lot more effort than for you," Brienne rolls her eyes as Jaime clutches his chest again, feigning pain for yet another stab to his heart.
"It's a lot effort for me, wench, you know my troubles," Jaime argues with mock vehemence.
"But you have greatly improved since," Brienne replies. Jaime stops with the acting, straightening back up, eyes fixed on her, "I have?"
"Of course. Your writing gets smoother with each letter. Didn't you realise so yourself?" she frowns.
"I didn't think it would… reflect in my writing," Jaime replies now almost shyly – a small blush spreading over his cheeks.
He doesn't know why or how, but he feels really, honestly proud of himself now. Jaime managed to overcome the dancing letters - by himself. While Brienne gave him the advice to practice with stories and gave him a chance to practise through the letters, he achieved that by himself in the end. He tamed the letters. He grew - thanks to her. And to be told this is even a greater feeling.
"It does, believe me. Soon, no one will be able to tell that you had a bit of a trouble with dancing letters before," Brienne assures him.
He smiles at her.
The two glance at the sunset again, hoping that Brienne's father takes a bit longer anyway.
"Nooooo!" Tyrion wails, now that Brienne's father awaits her by the port to join her for the trip back to Tarth. Obviously, her father didn't run late at all. So now, the Lannisters have gathered to bid their guest farewell. Tyrion, however, doesn't want his giantess to leave at all, which is why he has been crying all morning long.
"Can someone fetch a governess, please?" Tywin yells into the castle, making a guard jump and run.
"Milord, if you allow, may I?" Brienne intercepts, though in a polite manner.
"Go ahead," Tywin shrugs. Brienne picks Tyrion up, rocking him in her arm, "Now, now, little one. No tears. That brings bad luck and lots of rain. And I can't use that for my way back to Tarth. Just imagine that I get into a storm because of your tears!"
"Oh no!" Tyrion cries out aghast.
"It's alright if you stop crying now," Brienne tells him. Cersei mutters some incoherent curses to herself while Jaime grins at how well Brienne knows how to handle Tyrion.
"But I will miss you," Tyrion brings out as he calms down, his voice still quivering.
"And I will miss you even more, but I have to get back home. I must find new stories, right?" Brienne argues, to which the boy nods frantically.
"See? And I am sure we will see each other again soon enough. So no more tears. Big boys don't cry, and you're a big boy, aren't you?" Brienne says with a smile.
"Said the giant boy-girl to the dwarf…," Cersei mutters, which only earns her a sharp hiss from her twin brother, "Cersei!"
"Yes, I'm a big boy," Tyrion nods frantically, ignoring Cersei, his eyes only fixed on the two sapphires in front of him.
"That's right, so no more tears," Brienne smiles, and Tyrion agrees, "No more tears."
She puts him down, planting a kiss on the top of his head. Tyrion dances around gleefully. That is when there is the sound of horses pawing the ground rings out.
"I suppose that is my carriage," Brienne smiles uncertainly. She then turns to Jaime's father, bowing to him. "Lord Tywin, in my Father's name and my own, I would like to thank you for your kindness and your hospitality another time."
He nods curtly.
"It was nice seeing you, Cersei," Brienne lies swiftly, turning to Jaime's twin sister. The Lannister girl just snorts in return. Brienne's eyes focus on Jaime this time, "Well, this is goodbye, then."
"Write me the first thing you get back home," Jaime tells her.
"Of course," she nods. He puts his hand on her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze.
"You got to kiss her!" Tyrion cries out from beneath them. The two glance down at the boy.
"Tyrion!" Jaime cries out, fighting any urge not to just kick him, lightly so, but still.
"In the story they kiss before they bid farewell!" Tyrion explains.
"What?" Tywin can't help but frown, so Brienne quickly explains, "I read The Castle in the Sea to him, Milord. In the end, the protagonist bids the princess of the deep sea farewell by kissing her on the cheek. I suppose he just remembered that now, Lord Tywin."
"But Tyrion tends to forget that we are not living in stories," Cersei grunts, twisting a strand of her shining hair between her fingers.
"We are!" Tyrion insists.
"No, we are not!" Cersei retorts.
"In any case," Brienne intervenes. "I should be on my way. Thank you another time."
She means to turn away, but that is when Jaime presses a kiss on her cheek with a smug grin. She pushes him away playfully, "Remember that the knight drowned in the end."
Jaime snickers, "I'm just doing what my little brother wants."
Cersei is boiling behind him, but Jaime ignores it this time.
Brienne offers a small grin, "Goodbye, Jaime."
"Bye," he nods. She disappears down the stairs and into the carriage. Tywin turns to take his leave. Cersei nudges Jaime in the side roughly, "What was that?"
"I bid her farewell," Jaime shrugs.
"You better not do that again," Cersei mutters.
"It was a kiss on the cheek, Cersei," Jaime rolls his eyes, folding his hands in the nape of his neck.
"Never. Again," she warns him.
"Of course, my Lady," Jaime sighs, annoyed.
"Well, at least it will be the way it usually is now that she is gone," Cersei sighs in relief.
"Right, it will be the way it usually is…," Jaime grimaces.
He glances around as he passes through the corridors with the rest of his family – and no one speaks a word.
No one calls him Goldie Curl anymore.
It's silent again.
And suddenly, his life seems so boring again.