Chapter 11
Jaime knew he ought to be happy for her- and he was, he really was. He was thrilled with the way Brienne had come into her own over the past few moon's turns and incredibly proud of the progress she'd made with the lads, who, thanks to her patient guidance were well on their way to becoming admirable soldiers.
He was genuinely happy for her. He was rather less happy for himself, it pained him to admit.
It wasn't her spending all her time with the boys that bothered him. It seemed Stannis Baratheon was likely to mount a second attack on the realm and soon, which meant Jaime was a lot busier than he'd have liked. He had precious little time to spend with her, busy as he was ensuring the Westerlands were well protected and seeking promises from of his bannermen that they would provide men to defend Tommen's reign should the need arise.
He was indeed pleased that Brienne had something to fill her time when he could not be with her, something she excelled at and something that made her happy.
It was a pure delight to watch her roaming the halls of the castle lately, no longer sullen and lonesome, but swamped with company.
It was rare to catch her without a train of small boys in tow these days, eager lads jogging to keep up with her long strides and chattering away.
She was no longer allowed to sit quietly at meals, removed from the crowd, for there was always a scuffle of adolescent males scrambling to find a seat beside her at the table. All of her charges hoped to find a place at her side, so they might ask her to regale them with tales of her time in Renly's army, to describe what battle was really like, to ask about things Ser Goodwin had taught her. She always had warm and patient smiles for them, even though he suspected she might enjoy a bit more time to herself than they were willing to give her.
Young Timeon, it seemed, had formed a particular attachment to her. Jaime had learned from Garreth, his elder brother, that the boys' mother had fallen to fever when Timeon was just a baby, and their father, a skilled guardsman, was a hard man, not at all generous in his affections. He had latched on to Brienne's kindness and had proven difficult to shake.
While most of the boys seemed to respect Brienne as they would any male in her role, always glowing with pride upon receipt of a compliment from her, but maintaining an appropriate distance, Timeon, the youngest among them did not seem to have the same boundaries.
Jaime found himself laughing often when he saw Brienne and Tim walking through the castle together, with Timeon's tiny hand holding hers. Brienne would wince at him helplessly as she passed but he could only shrug, as clueless as she was about how to detached the lad.
She'd confessed to him how awkward she found his affection when they'd been out riding one day, saying she'd never been very nurturing and was desperately unsure of how to deal with the child's emotional attachment. He'd done his best to assure her that she should just carry on as she had been, and urged her to accept it because short of changing the very core of who she was as a person, there was nothing she could do to break the bond.
Brienne may have been less than comfortable with it, but she was far too kind to demand that Tim give her space. Jaime could see the affection growing on her part as well, even though she still blushed profusely when Timeon's face lit up at the sight of her every morning and he ran forth to greet her, often with a fierce little hug. Jaime found it terribly endearing. Often the image would pop into his head as he drafted a letter to some bannerman, and he'd find himself smiling alone in his study.
No, her relationships with the lads she was training did not bother him in the slightest. No matter how they wore her out (and they certainly did), she never failed to show up for their nightly sparring sessions. He was constantly improving, and her work with the lads had made her a better teacher than ever. She often fought him using only her left hand and he found that she was learning to use it so well that she might soon be beating him at that as well.
So no, it was not her time spent with the lads that was making him...less than pleased.
It was something else.
He had to do some investigating to figure out how exactly this...new development had come about, but Garreth proved once again to be a useful source of information. With a bit of goading, he filled Jaime in on the series of events that caused things to change in a rather distressing manner (no matter how desperately he tried to convince himself things were fine).
A half-dozen of Brienne's pupils were seated in the Great Hall, taking lunch while she trained in the yard with the others.
Garreth, Timeon and their peers were eating broth, discussing their earlier sparring matches, and arguing over who had fared best.
Seated nearby were a few young knights who had recently joined Jaime's guard. They were off-duty, and while it was only midday, they were deep in their cups, indulging in wine and ale and talking loudly.
It was impossible not to overhear them, and when the conversation turned to the Maid of Tarth, the lads all fell silent to listen.
"Don't know what he's playing at, leaving that big, ugly bitch to train the boys," one of them muttered, though it was quite loud enough for the lads to hear and glare over at them.
"Aye, I suppose they'll be knitting and sewing rapidly to defend the castle, should it be attacked!" joked another to a roar of laughter from the rest. "Perhaps she'll get them donning skirts, to better conceal their footwork, maybe hide some extra blades beneath!"
The boys listened, stone-faced while the men laughed.
"The little bastards'll be sobbing at their first sight of blood, no doubt. Like any woman could prepare them for the horrors of battle, soft-hearted creatures that they are. They'll be whimpering like newborn babes, just you wait-"
"You shut up about Lady Brienne!" Timeon had burst out, voice squeaky and high but loud enough to be heard over the mens' laughter. There was a loud snapping as all five of their heads turned round to face him.
"Tim, wai-" Garreth had tried to say, reaching out to grab unsuccessfully for his small brother as the Tim jumped up from his bench and marched over to the five slightly stunned drunks.
"You shut up about her," Timeon said again, standing fiercely before them. "She could knock you all into the dust before you could blink!"
They roared with laughter and Garreth, cringing, began to slink over to try to pull Timeon away.
"You're a funny boy!" roared a bushy-bearded man called Ser Talworth. "Has she been suckling you against her teats to inspire such loyalty? Of course, she'd likely be more suited to that task than teachin' you to-"
"You don't know anything," growled Timeon, stomping his tiny foot in fury. "She could beat any of you with one hand tied behind her back!"
"Come on, Tim," Garreth had hissed, tugging at his brother's sleeve, but Timeon shrugged him off.
"Lady Brienne is the best fighter there is," Tim insisted. "If you don't believe me, fight her and see! She's in the training yard right now. She'd take you!"
"Aye, Talworth, ya hear that?" laughed one of his companions. "Maybe you should fight the wench. Give yourself a chance to come out on top for once. Gods know you could use a victory."
Talworth glared at his companions.
"I'm not wasting me day off teaching some cunt a lesson. I'm here to drink and be mer-"
"It'd be her teaching you the lesson, Ser," spat Timeon. "You just go and see, if you're not too craven!"
"TIMEON!" Garreth cried in horror, physically lifting his small brother up into his arms to drag him away. "My apologies, Sers. My brother does not-" he began but the Talworth's companions were roaring with laughter too loudly to even hear.
Garreth began to carry his brother back to the table, hissing chastisements and warnings about the beating he was like to receive if their father got wind of this as Tim kicked at him wildly and ineffectively, wanting to go back to take on the rude men.
The damage was done though, and Timeon's idea had taken root.
It seemed the guards were eager for entertainment and were egging on Talworth heartily.
"Go on then, Tal. Let's head down there and let you challenge the brute, if you're not too craven," cackled a freckly ginger-haired guard, clapping him on the back.
"Yes, let's see you show the bitch what's what!"
Within a few moments, they were on their feet and making their way to the training yard. Garreth and the others followed.
It seemed Talworth had gained confidence on their walk down to the yard and was enjoying being the center of attention. He seemed eager to provide some entertainment and called out loudly to Brienne upon his arrival.
She was aiding Gerion in finding the proper stance, when Talworth cried out,
"My Lady of Tarth! One of your lads has vouched for your prowess with a blade, though I confess I find it hard to believe! I wonder if you might be up for a little duel, to show my friends and I what you are made of!"
Talworth sauntered into the yard, arms raised dramatically.
Jaime had been working on the next floor up, his window opened for he enjoyed having the sound of Brienne and the boys training in the background as he worked. He walked over to the window at the sound of Talworth's voice.
He had not been able to hear exactly what the man was saying, but he saw the drunken stumble as Talworth walked towards her and sensed the aggression in his movements. He also took in Talworth's four amused companions standing on the sidelines, and left his study at once to make his way towards the training yard.
There had been quite a few new additons to his service, most young, arrogant and cocksure. Jaime had not spent an overabundance of time in their company, but based on what he'd seen thus far, only a handful of them had been remotely likeable. Talworth had struck him as particularly irksome.
He made his way to the yard as quickly as he could. He knew Brienne had much strength both within and without, but she had, in their time together, alluded to having faced considerable cruelty in her life and he wished to shield her from more of it.
The conversation in the yard had continued, of course, as Jaime had made his way downstairs, and Garreth had later filled him in on what he missed.
Brienne had rejected Talworth's challenge, naturally.
"You are drunk, Ser, and I am busy training these boys. I would thank you to leave us," she'd said with a steady calm.
"I understand your hesitance, wench," laughed Talworth. "You've somehow managed to convince these poor, stupid boys that you can wield a blade as well as a man, and are loath to have them see how poorly you hold up against a foe older than twelve!"
"Who do you think you're-" young Gerion had begun fiercely, just as Jaime was reaching the yard. Jaime smiled at the lad's protectiveness. He had clearly grown just as fond of Brienne as all the rest.
Gerion had been full of fury, ready to defend her, but Brienne placed a hand on his shoulder and he fell silent.
She turned to face Talworth and his sniggering companions, clearly annoyed at their obnoxious interruption.
"Gentlemen," Brienne said with barely concealed contempt. "I must insist that you to leave. I have a duty-"
"To shrink away from a fight like any wise woman would? " Talworth said with a laugh, gesturing at Brienne's angry young charges. " See lads! She may cross swords with little boys, but your gentle Lady shows her fear quick enough once challenged by a real man!"
"I do not fear foolhardy drunks. But I don't fight them either, especially when I have important work to do," Brienne said quietly.
"Aye, I'm a bit drunk, yes and you're stone sober, but I've no doubt I could drink a full cask of wine and still have you crawling back to your Sapphire Isle in shame," sneered Talworth, and his friends laughed, whether at the insult or at his ridiculous bravado, Jaime could not say.
"I highly doubt that," Brienne said, gritting her teeth in anger. "But I will not fight you. Lord Jaime has entrusted me with the training of these lads and that is what I intend-"
" Actually," Jaime said, stepping out of the shadows and startling them all. "Lord Jaime would be quite pleased to see you shut this drunken buffoon up with your cold, hard steel, my lady. I could throw him in the dungeons for a month for his brazen lack of respect for a highborn maid such as yourself, but I'd much rather see you beat him bloody in front of his companions."
"My lord, I'm sorry-" began Talworth, preparing to grovel embarrassingly, but Jaime held a hand up to stop him. He'd be facing humiliation enough momentarily.
"I don't want your apologies. I'd much rather see you crawl off in shame when you cross blades with this fine warrior," he smirked, walking up to Brienne and placing a hand on her shoulder.
"Jaime...he's drunk," she began, clearly reluctant.
"Yes, he's drunk. He's also a bloody prick and I want you to beat his insolent arse into the ground," Jaime said, low in her ear.
She turned to him, looking hesitant for a moment. Then she grinned sheepishly, "So do I."
"Then do it," he grinned.
He clapped her on the shoulder and loudly announced,
"Well then! It seems the lovely lady accepts your hare-brained challenge, Talworth! Come on up and prepare to eat your words. The rest of your lads, I suggest you find your seats quickly. This show won't last long," Jaime said, grinning broadly.
He hustled off to the side-lines, standing near Garreth and Timeon.
"Ha!" Tim said, pumping a small fist in the air. "She'll show that smug bastard, won't she Gar?"
Jaime barked out a laugh at Tim's choice of words and mussed his blonde hair, "I'm with you, Tim. She'll knock that smirk right off his face."
And so she did.
Jaime had felt some degree of guilt making her fight Gerion on her first day as lady-at-arms, but he felt no such remorse here. While Brienne had been extremely reluctant to fight back against the boy, she showed no such qualms about humiliating Talworth. Not surprising, considering the vile abuse he'd been foolish enough to spew at her.
Brienne allowed Talworth to start them off with a few wild swings, which she avoided effortlessly.
His companions jeered and japed, telling him to land a blow and stop embarrassing himself. The taunts made Talworth angrier, more desperate. Brienne dodged a few more violent swings, allowing him to break into a sweat before she even began to press her own attack.
The first swing sent him stumbling backwards, but he managed to keep his feet. Talworth's eyes were wide and he seemed to realize his mistake in underestimating her right away.
She was taller than him, stronger and steadier. She managed a second blow that tore a sizeable hole in his fine tunic. He gaped down at it.
A third blow, seconds later sent his sword crashing to the ground. Her blade was at his throat immediately, and she growled at him to yield in a voice that would have made any man tremble.
" I yield!" Talworth gasped, clearly frightened. Laughter rang through the yard.
Jaime, Brienne's boys and Talworth's companions were all roaring with laughter, cheering at her victory.
What was more, the commotion had drawn other spectators as well. Other knights and guards, a pair of visiting lords, even a few washerwomen had stopped to watch the fight.
Brienne looked fiercely proud and Jaime beamed across the yard at her, winking, as Talworth stalked across the yard in bitter defeat. It would have been done, then, if Jaime hadn't heard a snide comment somewhere off to the left.
"Aye, she was able to beat a piss-drunk fool who can barely hold a blade when he's sober. What does that prove?"
It was another one of the new guards, though not one who had shown up with Talworth's group. He'd been speaking to his friend, but Jaime heard it clearly and scowled.
"Well fought, Brienne," Jaime said loudly, and everyone in the yard fell silent to hear their lord speak. "But it seems this guardsman of mine, Sybley, I believe he's called, does not believe this a proper demonstration of your skill, as Talworth was deeply inebriated. I tend to agree. You didn't have to do much to put that jackanapes in his place and it seems a crowd has gathered, eager to see a real demonstration of skill. "
He heard Sybley gasp at being called out and continued on.
" Sybley seems sober enough himself! Perhaps you ought to fight him as well, just to set any further questioning of your considerable talents aside."
"Jaime," she said, her eyes widened. Panic, fury and embarrassment could all be seen in those blue orbs.
With so many people watching, she would not saying everything on her mind, but he knew her well enough to interpret her tone and expression. "What in the seven hells are you doing?" is what they clearly said.
"Come on then," he smiled, still talking loud enough for the crowd to hear. "You barely broke a sweat putting Talworth down. I've no doubts you can take out another idiot foolish enough to doubt you. I hear Sybley's actually won a few melees with that blade of his. Perhaps when you take this one out, you'll be free of this sort of stupidity once and for all."
She was shaking her head in disbelief. Clearly, this was not how she envisioned her day going. The number of onlookers had increased even further and he knew she did not like to be the focus of any sort of attention. She was not happy with him, that was for certain. But Jaime wanted to see her do this and knew that she could.
He also knew that even if she was furious with him for it right now, she would thank him later and so he pressed on.
"What do you say, Sybley?" he asked, turning to the guard who had spoken. He was a few years older than Brienne, perhaps, and was quite tall and broad. He would give her a better fight than Talworth had, to be sure, but Jaime had seen him fight and knew she'd shut him up too. "Are you brave enough to take on this mighty foe?"
There was more laughter in the yard, and Jaime scowled, quite certain that the onlookers thought he was mocking her rather than Sybley. They'd learn the truth soon enough.
"I am, Ser, if the lady is willing to face a man who's not half-dead from drink! I shall go easy on her, of course. I know my lord is fond of her," Sybley said, smirking around at his companions. Jaime wanted to punch his cocky head right off his body with his golden hand, but knew there was no need.
Brienne would take care of this herself.
Jaime glanced at her, and saw that Sybley's words had indeed pricked her to anger.
"Step up then," she said simply, holding out her blade.
Jaime watched, enthralled. He'd fought her himself, of course, and watched her spar gently with the boys, but this was his first time watching her cross blades with a soldier of any sort of skill and he found himself mesmerized by the sight.
She moved with considerable grace, large and broad though she was, and he marveled at the musculature of her arms, the fluidity of her movements.
Sybley was good, certainly.
He seemed not to fall into the trap of starting off fiercely in an attempt to vanquish her quickly, as so many men had done, Talworth included.
He made her come at him as well, and his quick reflexes allowed him to dodge or block quite a few of her blows.
They danced around each other, each earning impressed 'oohs' and 'ahh's from the watching crowd in turn as their blades clashed together and came apart.
But in the end, Brienne was stronger, and her endurance won out.
It was a longer fight than the first, but she overpowered Sybley with a sudden onslaught of heavy blows that he was unable to combat quickly enough. She disarmed him and made him yield and Jaime felt his heart might burst with pride as the onlookers burst into applause and Sybley slunk away in shame.
That was when things took a turn for the worse. Well... better.
Better for Brienne. Worse for Jaime.
After Sybley stalked off to the sidelines, scowling, another knight had stepped up.
S er Devon, he was called. A young man of about two and twenty, he had earned his knighthood on the battlefield and had risen high in the ranks of the Lannisport City Watch. He been helping to keep the peace around Lannisport for the last couple of years. He was in the city more often than the castle, but from what Jaime had knew, he was well-liked and respected. The current commander of the watch had mentioned him as a possible replacement commander, when his bones grew too weary to hold on to his post.
"You move with much grace, Lady Brienne," Ser Devon said, walking forward and giving a small bow. "My cousins Timeon and Garreth have spoken to me of your skill and I have been hoping I might have the chance to see it at work. I'm afraid they did not do you justice, eager as they were to sing your praises."
Ser Devon smiled at her. He had a kind, pleasant face, and the smile reached his sparkling blue-grey eyes.
"Um," Brienne said, reddening. "Th-thank you, Ser. Timeon has told me of your admirable feats on the battlefield. It is k-kind of you to say so, with all you have accomplished."
Devon smiled again (does he ever stop smiling? Jaime wondered with a scowl).
" You've seen battle as well, I hear and faced your foes boldly," he said. He glanced around at the crowd. Some of the onlookers were beginning to disperse, particularly the conquered fools and their companions, but Jaime and the boys were still watching, as were a few of Ser Devon's City Watch companions.
"I wonder, my lady... if you have not exerted yourself too much on your previous opponents- and I daresay it does not seem that you have," he smiled. "Would you be willing to spar a bit with me as well? I do not wish to keep you from your duties much longer, but I would be thrilled for the opportunity to experience your skill firsthand."
Ser Devon looked around and caught Jaime's eye, "Er, if my Lord of Lannister permits it."
"If the lady wishes it, I have no qualms," Jaime said gruffly, though deep in his gut there was a longing for her to refuse him.
"Er- alright," Brienne said shyly, not quite meeting his eyes but looking rather pleased all the same. "If the boys don't mind waiting."
"Go on!" said Timeon brightly. "Devon's really good!" He frowned. "Not as good as you though, my lady!" he added. Then he looked at his cousin and frowned again. "I mean, he's very- well you both fight differently..."
Devon laughed heartily, a pleasant sound that rang out across the yard. "Relax, dear cousin! Let us begin, my lady, and save poor Tim from trying to protect my feelings."
And so Brienne faced her third component of the day.
Ser Devon was not quite as strong or muscular as Sybley had been, but he did have a certain admirable finesse to his swordwork.
There was less aggression in this fight, as Devon had not enraged her with an utter lack of courtesy. Brienne and Devon both seemed more intent upon learning from each other than besting each other, at least at first. They fought companionably, passing compliments back and forth after a particularly good bit of footwork or a sharp swing of the blade.
Brienne and Ser Devon sparred like that for over a quarter of an hour in that manner. Jaime found himself growing more irritated as he watched, though he could not say why. He found himself quite relieved when they switched from testing each other to earnestly fighting and attempting to force a yield from one another.
Brienne managed to beat him too, but unlike his predecessors, Ser Devon did not scowl and storm away.
He smiled brightly and bowed, "You are a remarkable swordsman, Lady Brienne. Er, swordswoman, I suppose I should say. Truly remarkable, my lady. I shall have to practice hard until the next time an opportunity to cross blades with you arises. Perhaps next time you shall not beat me so sorely in front of my cousins!"
He laughed musically, winking over at Garreth and Tim.
"It- it was n-no easy victory, Ser" Brienne said. Her shoulders were hunched awkwardly, her eyes boring into the dirt below her feet. "You fought very well. The people of Lannisport are- are fortunate to have your blade protecting them."
"Thank you, my lady. Now, I shall let you get back to your training, " Ser Devon said, bowing to her. He grinned widely, inclining his head towards the boys. "Or my cousins and their companions shall skewer me for taking up your time. I imagine they're becoming quite deadly under your tutelage!"
He smiled, bowed again and wandered away. Jaime watched him go, scowling until he was out of sight, and for quite some time after.
And that was the source of all of the confusing anger Jaime had been feeling of late.
It made very little sense, he knew, to be so displeased about it all.
It hadn't bothered him in the slightest to see Brienne smiling and chatting with the boys at mealtimes. Quite the opposite, in fact. He'd been thrilled that she had company other than him.
Yet now that the wench had befriended Ser Devon, he found himself glaring down from the high table whenever he saw her sitting with him. He only came in from Lannisport every so often, but when he did, he and City Watch his companions sought Brienne out and sat with her, edging out the sullen lads from the yard who usually sat by her.
It should please him, to see her smiling and laughing for once with people her own age, but he found that seeing it usually it made him lose his appetite, made the elaborate delicacies he was served turn to ash in his mouth.
She had been at the Rock for months before he'd ever heard her laugh, and once he'd discovered what a pleasant sound it was, Jaime had done his best to bring the sweet sound out of her more often. Why should it trouble him that she was doing it more often now?
Why should he grip his goblet so tightly that it threatened to crack whenever he thought of her clashing blades with other men?
Jaime tried to convince himself it all came back to swordplay and his desire to get better with his left hand. He was worried, he told himself, that since she now had Ser Devon and his friends to spar with, she would grow tired of one-handed bouts with an old cripple like him and stop training with him.
Jaime might be getting better each day, but he'd never regrow a hand and never be able to offer her the sort of challenge a fierce fighter such as Brienne would always crave. Now that she'd discovered she could get that elsewhere, she might lose interest in sparring with him.
Ser Devon kept decent men in his company, and it seemed his friends were just as willing as he was to take Brienne on and graciously accept their defeats.
Brienne did defeat them often, but not always and that bothered him quite a bit.
A swordsman often learns more from a defeat than a victory, and they could help her grow in ways he never could.
He watched them, sometimes. He saw the fire in her eyes as she was worn down by a worthy opponent and thought bitterly that he'd never be able to teach her a damned thing.
But try as he might, Jaime could not simply justify his deep annoyance at these budding friendships as coming from worry about losing his sparring companion.
Even with her retinue of new opponents, Brienne never failed to show up to fight with him, and always seemed quite happy to do it.
Night after night, she still kindly praised him when he did well and sat beside him companionably when he needed a break (as he often did, given how much stronger she'd gotten since befriending Ser Devon and company.)
No, Brienne was as loyal as they came, and showed no signs of abandoning him now that she'd come across these new companions. Try as he might, Jaime could not delude himself into thinking his concerns about having a sparring partner was the only thing at play here.
There was more to it, for certain, but he had very little desire to figure out what exactly it was that troubled him so.
Some doors were best left closed, and so he resigned himself to glaring down at Brienne and her companions from his high table when they came to the Rock without really understanding why. Picking listlessly at his food, he would watch and scowl, scarcely hearing a dull word from the lords and ladies he was supposed to be entertaining.
Notes: Thank you sooooo soooooo much for all the incredible feedback you have been leaving. It means so much to me and gives me the inspiration to keep working on this in spite of some hectic happenings in the real world!
