Author's Note: Thanks for sticking around and being so kind to follow, favorite, and review 3
In response to my kind reviewers:
To elaine451: Thank you soooo much! I am glad that you think I kept the dynamic as well as in-line with the characters. I am always a bit anxious about messing that up. And with Tyrion and Sansa, I won't spoiler too much here, but they will definitely develop a relationship, friendship or romance... let's see how I feel about it ;) It's fun to see just how many people want me to kill off Cersei. I mean, I want her dead, too, but I can't promise that I will murder her, at least not right away ;P And despite your pretty please, I don't know if Tywin will override Cersei's influence, but gladly, in the GoT universe, there is always another approach to everything and always another way to move behind someone's back. Plots, plots everywhere ;)
To my friend from Argentina: I must say that online-translation left me slightly confused. I hope I got the gist of the review regardlessly. Thank you very much, first of all. I am glad that you liked the chapter and the interaction between the two, if I understood correctly. We both agree on Cersei being a bitch. I suppose eveyone agrees that Cersei is a bitch. The story Brienne reads is something I made up myself, yes, if that was your question, but I don't write stories for children or so, but thank you and I am glad that you liked the story!
Small warning: I am still no good with plots and politics or political plots. You have been warned before. I still give my best.
In any case, I hope ya'll enjoy this chapter ;)
After the 'dinner debacle', Tyrion, Sansa, Brienne, and Jaime gathered once more to discuss the next steps, hoping that this time their plan won't be destroyed right from the start like the last time. Sansa was upset, to say the least, after she had hoped that maybe this would finally be her way out of King's Landing and away from the torture and psychological warfare.
"… I suppose it's really over," she says, chewing her lower lip. "Joffrey won't ever let me go. This just proved it."
Brienne grabs her by the wrist to force her eyes to meet hers, "Lady Sansa. We won't give up, I assure you of it. This was a heavy setback, but that doesn't mean that we will just give in without a fight."
"But maybe it'd be for the best. I think you have better chances just saving you and your child. I don't want to know it endangered because of my risky rescue," Sansa argues.
While she doesn't know Lady Brienne in a long time, Sansa wants to dare to trust her. At the same time, she doesn't want a small, innocent creature like an unborn child to become another plaything Joffrey can toy around with as he pleases. Sansa just wants all of this madness to be over.
"I vowed to your dear Mother to defend you as I vowed to protect the child. I won't neglect either oath in favour of the other, Lady Sansa," Brienne replies.
"She is right. It might be that this option is no longer open for us, but if someone comes up with an alternative, it's my brother," Jaime says in an encouraging voice, winking at Tyrion once.
"They are right, my Lady. This is no complete setback, it's just one more stone to get out of the way first," Tyrion argues, his voice encouraging.
"Then what are we supposed to do? I have nowhere to go for as long as Joffrey wants to keep me as his plaything," Sansa replies vehemently. "For as long as he has the last word as the King, we can knock on a thousand doors, and still he will shut the one leading out of King's Landing."
"You are right," Tyrion agrees. "It appears that the problem in our plan was to move behind the King's back entirely, and use our Father as a buffer to skip Joffrey. I see that now. Which means that our new plan must involve that we get the permit from the King himself, directly."
"And that is impossible. Joffrey has his mind set on not letting me go. How would you convince him of the opposite?" Sansa argues. "Or how would you trick him into letting me go after all if that is one of the sole things he has on mind?"
"She has a point," Jaime is bound to agree.
"You all tend to forget that our King is goddamn stupid," Tyrion huffs.
"So what?" Jaime grimaces.
"He is only smart for as long as people like our father or our sister feed him the right answers. Other than that, he is an immature, impulsive, sadistic fool. So if we want to convince the fool of something, we have to get him alone. Then he has to make his own decisions, which are not at all smart," Tyrion explains.
"Fine," Jaime shrugs. "That sounds manageable, but the question would still be what either one of us would have to tell him to convince him of that. While he is… not the brightest light… he is achingly set on hurting Lady Sansa, as she rightly pointed out."
"Right, he is so set on her because he is not only stupid, but also immature. The best thing to convince a rebellious child is to make the child believe that he made the decision by himself," Tyrion goes on.
"But do you really think he'd be stupid enough to agree to release Sansa when this is something he is so set on? I mean, if it was something that he didn't really care about, fine, but this is one of the few agendas he has in mind," Jaime argues.
"I definitely think he is stupid enough," Tyrion snorts. "And even if he was a bit smarter, you can convince anyone of anything. It just takes the right arguments."
"And you come to have these?" Jaime leans back in his chair.
"I can be quite convincing if I want to be, yes," Tyrion flashes a small smirk. "But I also know that my arts of persuasion don't have enough vigour without something and someone to back up my arguments. For that the little shit is too distrustful of me already. Let's just say that smacking him a couple of times didn't necessarily make me his favourite uncle. In any case, if we want this to work, we need the help of someone he apparently trusts, and someone he is more interested in more than, for instance, the dear Queen Mother."
"Lady Margaery," Sansa nods slowly. Tyrion grins softly, "Lady Sansa is right. The advantage of her as an ally is that she is fond of you, my Lady, openly so, and is similarly fond of Lady Brienne. So I don't think that she will deny us."
"But what do you want to convince the King of? Sending us to Casterly Rock is ruled out now because he gave the order for Jaime to remain in the Kingsguard. I reckon he won't change the course about that decision anymore," Brienne argues.
"I want to convince him to send us three to Tarth," Tyrion replies promptly.
Jaime tries his best not to look like someone who just got a jab to the stomach. If possible, even his stump tries to clench the no longer existent wrist.
"This might be the only alternative we have left," Tyrion goes on, flashing an apologetic look to his older brother.
Tyrion is aware what that implies for Jaime and his relationship to the child –and the younger Lannister would rather do something else to ensure that his brother does not only stay around people who mean him no harm, but also within close periphery of the child he may at last call his own. Tyrion is one of the few people who know, really know what this child means to Jaime, after he was denied to be a father all the while before, but he also knows the current situation. And the current situation is hostile towards happiness, just as it is hostile towards little children in King's Landing.
Tyrion struggled with himself all night through, going over the options again and again, hoping to find a better alternative, one more bearable for the one family membe he cares about, but he found none. It is likely the safeset option for both Sansa and Brienne with the child, which means that it is the chance they have to place their hopes in now, personal feelings aside.
And that means that Tyrion is willing to bear the consequences – and present the case with a steady voice and with certainty in his gestures. He knows his brother will likely hate him for it, but this is not about them, it's really just about Sansa and that child, and Tyrion shall be damned if either one falls victim to the clutches of King's Landing and those vile creatures roaming around and on the Iron Throne. And that is why Tyrion is steadfast in his determination to present the plan with factuality and objectivity.
He learned the very hard way that doing the right thing is anything but easy and always demands a pound of one's flesh. And sometimes it means to let go of the things you love, to know them protected.
He hates doing the right thing, he really does.
So Tyrion tears his eyes away from his brother, and focuses on Brienne instead, "We would be safe in Tarth, I assume?"
"My Father will most certainly grant you shelter. I don't know how it is about the King sending people to Tarth to take you away again, because Tarth doesn't have a huge army, but you don't have to fear for my Father to deny you," Brienne tells him directly.
Jaime, once again, tries his best not to stare.
She wants to agree to this, so effortlessly?
They will just go away – without him?
"From Tarth, we could arrange for Lady Sansa to travel North at some point, or over to Pentos if it came to it. In any case, a safer place than King's Landing," Tyrion goes on.
"And you would take me, really?" Sansa asks nervously, her eyes fixed on Brienne. "This is your home after all, Lady Brienne. And I of all people should know best how painful it is to see your home in danger, if not burned to ashes."
"If it is safe for you, then yes. And for all it's worth, you may stay in Tarth for however long you wish to stay. I swore to your dear Mother that I would keep you safe and she promised me that there would always be a place for me in her home. I will return that promise to you any time," Brienne assures her.
"Thank you, Milady," Sansa breathes.
"The good thing is that we will have a bit of time ahead to plan everything, given the premise that Joffrey lets us go," Tyrion says. "But if he does after all, then this is what we should do."
"It might be the safest bet, if not the only one we still have open," Brienne agrees.
Jaime tries his best not to bite off his tongue as he tries to hold in in place.
Once they go their separate ways again, Jaime went with Brienne to her chamber. Brienne noticed with a pang of worry and uncertainty how his features darkened, as though someone just cast a cloak of shadow over his head. He wouldn't say a single word on their way there.
The cloak is doffed the moment the door is closed with a thud, however.
"So is that it? You will just take the next best ship to Tarth, along with the two?" he suddenly breaks out, the anger just bubbling out of him like acid – and he cannot take it anymore. He is burning on the inside.
"What? Your brother suggested it, not I," Brienne looks at him, irritated, but by no means intimidated. She knows that he would never mean her harm, even if he looks like a rabid lion right now – and even if the one-pawed lion lashed out at this point, Brienne knows how to bring him to the ground in less than four seconds. That metal hand makes him such an easy target.
"And you agreed to it," Jaime cries out. He doesn't want to yell, he really doesn't, but that familiar fear is back in his bones and brings them to shake so splinters of bone pierce through him from the inside out.
He is just presented with a fait accompli of what his life will be like now, just like he was presented with one when his first little lion cub in a stag's skin made its appearance.
And it makes him sick – because, foolishly, he had believed that Brienne was earnest with him in that regard, because he had believed in a future where he could have something he could love more than the world at last, but he was seemingly mistaken.
"I agreed to it because we have nothing much left open!" Brienne argues, gesturing.
"And I have no say in that anymore?" Jaime retorts.
"You were there! You had any chance to object," Brienne shoots back. "But you didn't!"
She understands that he is upset, she does, but she doesn't understand that he wouldn't speak up during the conversation. If he was that much against the plan, he should have objected, should have opened his mouth, but he had just sat there. And now he complains?
And here she thought women were complicated.
"Because everyone seems to ignore that I won't be able to come along," Jaime growls.
"We have to think about Sansa now. That might be her only chance to get out of King's Landing safely," Brienne tells him, now a bit more soothingly than she usually would. She starts to understand the source of the problem, and she is shocked just how much it seems to affect him.
One should never make the mistake to take Jaime's fake smiles and pun for full. That man hides more feelings than one would ever know. And those feelings are so raw that they brought a knight to the verge of passing out in a bathtub back in Harrenhal, only his realy name on his lips.
She is not the only one hiding behind an armour, just that Jaime's armour is his smile.
"And I just have to deal with it that you take our cub along with you to Tarth," Jaime argues.
He thought that he wouldn't be left out for once. That he could be a part of this child's life, of the child's life he wanted to claim as his, that he actually dared to claim as his already.
"You act as though I wanted for this to happen! I would have gone with you to Casterly Rock, had the plan not be disrupted by the King, Jaime," Brienne argues. He looks at her, blinking a few times.
"I would have gone with you to Casterly Rock and I would have become your Lady, yes, but that is no longer an option. I told you that I won't bitch about what is a matter of the past now, and that is a matter of the past now," Brienne hisses. "I am just trying to fulfil my oaths."
"And that I can't fulfil mine is acceptable or what?" Jaime argues.
Not only the cub and Brienne would be gone, but so any chance for him to restore his fractured sense of honour.
He will have nothing.
Only hollowness.
"They will be safe in Tarth!" Brienne argues vehemently. "That means that you would fulfil your oaths, what are you saying?"
"We don't know that," Jaime argues.
Ships sink.
Assassins may wait behind every corner.
This world is a hostile one, hostile towards life itself.
"But what we do know is that neither one will be safe in King's Landing for much longer," Brienne retorts.
Jaime just shakes his head, feeling dizzy.
Another child his and not his at the same time.
Yet another child he can only love from a distance.
Yet another child he made but cannot keep.
He runs a hand over his face, flashing the fake smile that makes shivers run up and down Brienne's spine, "What do I even complain, huh? In the end, my opinion doesn't matter. You said it yourself. What we want is secondary, right? It's only about Sansa and what you think is best for the cub."
"Well, do you have any other idea?" Brienne argues.
"I think it doesn't matter even if it did. You get to go home. You will have the cub away from King's Landing and its troubles, and you will know Sansa safe. So it doesn't matter what I think about it," Jaime shakes his head with resignation, which boils deep down in his body, right in the centre of his very being, his heart, his soul.
In the end, it seems to be his destiny that he is no more than a pawn others push around and carve letters into.
Kingslayer.
Alone.
Without honour.
Lost.
In the end, others decide how he is to act around other people, what he has to be to other people, even if it is someone he thought would not do that to him.
"That's not true," Brienne tells him with urgency in her voice.
"Tell that to yourself, wench," Jaime curses, not looking at her.
"Jaime…," she says, making one step forward, but Jaime already opens the door and rushes off, leaving Brienne standing there perplex and breathing hard.
Jaime seeks Cersei's bed that night and tries his best to get lost in her passion to somehow forget his hurt, his pain, his anxiety over a loss he feels way too close to his heart already.
What does it matter, right?
He is one of the damned anyways.
One of the damned who may own nothing, the least a child he may call his own.