Chapter Nineteen

The morning had dawned grey and cold when Jaime had awoken and dragged himself from Cersei's bed. Although he had at first been reluctant to join her, once he'd been wrapped in her arms, he'd had no desire to leave. Despite the fact that he no longer trusted her, despite the fact that he knew her capable of great evil, he still loved her, and he always would.

Now, they both sat astride their horses on a hill overlooking Winterfell. Below them, they saw thousands of Dothraki, Unsullied, and northern soldiers waiting for the command to start their march northward. Behind them, the Lannister army and the Golden Company stood at the ready, waiting for the same orders. Jaime just hoped that Cersei truly meant to send them north and would not command them to sack Winterfell the instant the men below them began marching into battle.

Jaime turned and looked at his sister. It wasn't often that he saw her on horseback. She had always preferred to travel by wheelhouse, but under the circumstances, she needed to be seen, both by her own armies and the ones camped at Winterfell. She looked regal and commanding atop her steed, and had Jaime been certain of her motives, he might have actually felt proud of her.

Her eyes still on the sea of soldiers in the distance, Cersei asked, "Do you know how easy it would be to take that keep if we hung back until the northern armies departed?"

"And do you know how easy it would be for Daenerys Targaryen to simply turn her dragons around and burn us all to death if we betrayed her?"

Cersei finally looked at Jaime. Her eyes were cold and calculating. The desire and passion that had been there the night before were now long gone. "You worry too much about the wrong things, dear brother. If we were to take Winterfell, we would be safe from her wrath and her dragonfire."

Jaime laughed. "Have you seen Harrenhal? Dragonfire practically melted it to the ground, stone and all. And I'm certain that the Dragon Queen would have no misgivings about doing the same to Winterfell if you and I were inside. Remember, I killed her father. Despite the respect she holds for our brother, I am certain that she is just as eager to see me dead as you are to see her dead."

Cersei snickered and turned her gaze back toward the keep. "Well, if she truly wants you dead, now is her chance."

Jaime turned his attention back toward Winterfell. In the distance, he saw a sizeable party of riders heading toward them, flying Stark and Targaryen banners. He had no doubt that both Jon Snow and Daenerys Targaryen had come to meet them. Although Tyrion had been sent to orchestrate a truce, the alliance would not be final until all parties had given their consent in person.

Jaime and Cersei sat there in silence as they watched the enemy approach. The King in the North and his Dragon Queen had surrounded themselves with their most trusted advisors and fiercest warriors. In the far distance, two of the Targaryen girl's dragons flew overhead, screeching and cawing like hungry vultures, making their presence known. It was an awesome display of power, one Jaime had no intention of challenging.

It wasn't long before the approaching party finally reached them, stopping as soon as they were within speaking distance. Daenerys Targaryen and Jon Snow made a striking pair. Everything about her was snowy white, from her hair to her cloak to the horse beneath her. Jon, in stark contrast, was dressed all in black, sitting atop a powerful, sable colored steed. Looking at them together, it was easy for Jaime to understand why so many people had chosen to follow them. They were young, they were beautiful, and they were undeniably powerful. It was a stunning combination.

Beside them, on his own horse, was Tyrion, looking grumpier and more disheveled than usual. But then, Jaime knew it had been a long night for his brother, and he was certain that Tyrion had been forced to argue their case in the face of stern opposition. Of course, Tyrion must have succeeded or else the party before them would still be back at Winterfell. Jaime wasn't surprised. Although he had only recently acquired a golden hand, Tyrion had always had a golden tongue.

At the back of the crowd, Jaime saw Brienne, sitting tall and proud astride her horse, and his heart skipped an unexpected beat. Their eyes met for only a moment, but it was enough. Jaime knew she was relieved to see him, and he hoped she saw the same relief reflected in his eyes. There was still so much unspoken between them, and he only wished he had more time. But he didn't. Neither of them did. And he wondered if they would ever get the chance to speak again.

"I have delivered your message as promised," Tyrion said, drawing Jaime's attention away from Brienne. Tyrion was looking up at Cersei, addressing her directly. "And I see you have delivered your armies. Now, if you can just keep your word and not turn them on us, we might have a chance of winning this war."

"You think you're so clever, don't you?" Cersei said derisively. "You always have to have the first word and the last word. Well, no one wants to hear from you, little brother. The grownups are here now. Why don't you waddle off somewhere and go play with one of your whores?"

Tyrion's eyes narrowed, and Jaime knew he was preparing a biting retort, but he never got the chance to deliver it.

"That is enough," Daenerys said. "We are not here to indulge in petty squabbles. We are here to declare a truce."

Jaime looked at Cersei, hoping to gauge her reaction. The warmth he had seen in her eyes when he'd held her in his arms just the night before was completely gone. Instead, it had been replaced with calculated coldness. "You cannot command me," Cersei said. "A queen does not take commands from anyone, especially not a usurper."

Jaime dared a brief glance at the Dragon Queen. Her eyes had darkened, and Jaime knew she was already tired of Cersei's games. It was a sentiment he knew quite well. But Daenerys Targaryen was a queen – at least, she believed herself to be a queen – and she did not give full rein to her displeasure.

Daenerys asked, "Are we here to rally our forces to march against the army of the dead, or are we here to call each other names?"

Cersei opened her mouth to answer, but Jaime knew he couldn't trust her not to say something insulting, so he cut her off before she got the chance. "We are here to save Westeros."

Cersei skewered him with her eyes but said nothing. Jaime could feel her fury deep in his bones. He would have to be more careful about crossing her, even if it was in an effort to protect her.

"In that case," Daenerys said, "we once again accept your offer to join forces against the Night King. Until the Great War is over, our armies will not raise arms against each other. Instead, they will fight side by side until the threat has been eliminated once and for all."

Cersei looked at Jon. He had remained silent throughout the entire exchange, letting the Targaryen girl speak for him. There was something in his eyes when he looked at the girl, something Jaime recognized all too well. He wondered if he should tell Cersei what he saw there, but the truth was, Cersei didn't need any more encouragement in her war against Jon Snow and Daenerys Targaryen. Not now, not when the fate of Westeros depended upon their efforts in the coming war.

"Well, Jon Snow," Cersei said. "What say you? The last time we met, I asked you to swear allegiance to me, and you refused, and I have come north anyway, offering you aid without anything in return. Are you willing to accept my help? Or is your Stark pride too strong to allow you to accept help from a Lannister?"

Jon glanced at Tyrion and then looked up at Cersei again. "It wouldn't be the first time I've accepted help from a Lannister. I accept your offer, and I give you my word that my men will not raise arms against you while the Night King continues to walk the earth."

"Good," Cersei replied. "Then we understand each other."

"Do we?" Daenerys asked.

"Of course, we do. What could you possibly mean?"

"Both Jon and I have declared our intentions before all those present," Daenerys said, her eyes scanning the crowd of advisors and soldiers surrounding them on both sides. "But you have not made any such declaration. You have not given us any assurances at all."

"I have declared my intention to give you aid."

"But you have not given your word that your men won't attack ours while they fight beside them on the battlefield. You have not given your word that you won't turn your armies around and lay siege to Winterfell while our men die at the hands of the White Walkers."

A tense silence followed. Jaime knew Cersei was furious. She hated taking commands, and she hated being second guessed by anyone. Jaime held his breath, waiting for his sister to reply.

"You have my word that my men will not attack yours or leave the battlefield until the threat from beyond the Wall has been adequately dealt with."

Jon interjected, "Until the Night King and his White Walkers have been defeated."

Cersei's eyes narrowed on Ned Stark's bastard, and Jaime waited in tense anticipation for her to reply.

When she finally answered, her tone was curt. "Yes, that."

Jaime exhaled a relieved sigh. He knew it had taken a lot for Cersei to submit to their demands, but he was thankful that she had.

"Very well, then," Daenerys replied. "Your men will join ours on the battlefield. And you and your commanders must join us to discuss strategy before we head north. We need to discuss how to use all our resources to our best advantage."

The Dragon Queen moved her horse aside, and Jon did the same, clearing a path for Cersei and her men to follow. It looked like a trap. If they walked their horses forward, they would be surrounded on all sides by Jon and Daenerys' men. But Jaime knew they had no choice but to go forward. If they tried to retreat now, they'd be branded as traitors to the cause, and Daenerys Targaryen could burn them all to death with her dragons.

Jaime glanced at Cersei. She was scowling. Despite her obvious displeasure, she picked up her reins and spurred her horse onward, riding up between Jon Snow and Daenerys Targaryen as if they had captured her and were bringing her to Winterfell for execution.

Jaime urged his mount forward, following after her. He knew their new allies were more trustworthy than his sister, and yet, he still feared for her safety. It wouldn't take much for them to turn on her and end her life then and there.

Tyrion soon rode up beside Jaime, keeping an even pace with his brother's horse. "Well," he said, "I never thought I'd see the day she'd join forces with a Stark and a Targaryen."

"There's always a first time for everything," Jaime replied. "Just think, in a few hours you'll get to see her standing with them on the battlefield, commanding her men to fight right alongside the forces of her sworn enemies."

A bitter laugh escaped Tyrion's throat. "No, actually, I won't."

Jaime turned his head and looked at Tyrion. "What do you mean?"

"I mean I have been commanded by my queen to stay here and protect Winterfell. It is my great privilege and honor," he said with mock sincerity.

"Is that how your queen makes her displeasure known? By leaving her most trusted advisor behind when she needs him most?"

"She has other advisors with a lot more military experience than I have. If this mission fails, the only life left in the north will be inside the walls of Winterfell. If that happens, someone needs to be in command during the inevitable siege."

"Is that what you're telling yourself?" Jaime asked with a laugh.

"It doesn't matter what I tell myself. Either way, I am not heading into battle with you, dear brother, and this may be our last goodbye."

Jaime's breath caught in his throat, and he looked away for a moment. He hadn't realized that this might be the last time he and Tyrion ever saw each other. It was quite likely that either one or both of them would die in the coming war, and they might never meet again.

Tyrion laughed. "I see I've moved you, Jaime. I didn't realize you were so sentimental."

Jaime finally looked at Tyrion again. His little brother could joke all he wanted, but there was no denying the melancholy in his eyes. "You and I have had to say our final goodbye once before. It wasn't easy then, and it isn't easy now."

"It never is. But this time might actually be the last. If we say goodbye today, we will likely never have to say it again."

Jaime hated to admit it, but he knew Tyrion was right. He stared at his brother for a long time, memorizing every inch of his face. He wished they weren't riding at that moment, that their feet were planted firmly on the ground and they weren't surrounded by a horde of soldiers. More than anything, Jaime wanted to pull Tyrion into his arms and hug him fiercely, but he couldn't. The best he could do was say, "I wish you well, brother. I pray we meet again someday. But if we don't, know that you will always be in my heart."

"And you in mine. Now, go kill some White Walkers for me. I'd do it myself, but duty calls."

Jaime laughed. Tyrion could not take anything seriously, not even his own death. But Jaime, Jaime knew just how serious the situation was. And he knew he had no choice but to say his final farewell. "Goodbye, Tyrion," he said, his tone undeniably somber.

Tyrion glanced away for a moment as if overcome with emotion. When he looked at Jaime again, he said, "Goodbye, Jaime. May you live to see another day." Then, without another word, he urged his horse onward, increasing his pace and moving up alongside his queen.

Jaime stared after him, a sense of dread settling deep in his chest. He knew, in his heart, that he would never see his brother again.