Jaime

Jaime was nearly to the end of the long hallway when he heard the sound of running from a different corridor.

"Jaime!" Tyrion called out, gasping for breath, "Thank the gods I've found you!" Tyrion stopped in front of Jaime and put his hands on his knees, wheezing.

"Tyrion, what in the sev–" Jaime started to say, but Tyrion held up a finger, asking for him to wait. He spent several minutes catching his breath and Jaime began to pace, anxious to be away from the Holdfast as soon as possible.

Eventually Tyrion stood up straight, though he was still a bit winded.

"Jaime, do you know where Lady Brienne is?"

"She's in Ser Dwayne's chambers."

Tyrion muttered a few choice words under his breath before saying to Jaime. "I need to speak to you, brother, before you see Brienne."

"I've already seen her," Jaime said dully.

"Gods, what did she say? Is she still drunk?" Tyrion asked.

"I didn't talk to her. She was asleep. "

"I can see by the look on your face you didn't like what you saw," Tyrion said, "Let's find a bench to sit on, before I collapse." He led them a short distance down the corridor he'd come from to a shallow alcove with a padded bench set in it.

"So you saw her," Tyrion prompted.

"She was asleep in Ser Dwayne's chambers. In his bed with him." Jaime said, "Loras was there, too. He answered the door."

"Did it look like anything happened?"

"I don't know. She was wearing his tunic, but with Loras there…I hope not."

"Do you know what Brienne saw earlier?"

"Loras told me," Jaime said grimly.

"So you're aware of how all this started. She saw you with Cersei, who was apparently giving your cock a friendly hand shake."

"Gods, you don't believe I asked for Cersei to worm her hand into my breeches?"

"Did you?"

"Tyrion! No. I knocked her on her arse as soon as she grabbed me."

"Brienne didn't see that," Tyrion said, "she saw you coming out of Cersei's chamber, half undressed."

"I was not half undressed!" Jaime protested, "Cersei tried to unlace my jerkin, she pulled the tie on my breeches…"

"That sounds pretty damning to me," said Tyrion drily, "Brienne was convinced you'd been in there fucking our sweet sister."

"So Loras said." Jaime tried to picture the scene from Brienne's perspective, and it didn't look good. It looked worse than what he'd just seen. "I wish Brienne had said something, or done something, Tyrion. If I had come upon her like that I would have come to her defense."

"Would you? If you saw her come out of Ser Dwayne's room right now and he put his hand up her skirt – sorry, down her breeches, would you stop it?"

"Of course I would!"

"What if she wasn't struggling and you were already worried that something was going on between them?"

Jaime shrugged, irritated, "Put like that, I'm not sure what I'd do."

"How did you feel when you saw her just now?" Tyrion asked, looking at Jaime expectantly.

"Before Loras told me what happened I felt like I'd walked into a melee unarmed and wrong-handed. Now that I know? Like someone handed me a shield after the melee ended."

"I'm sorry, Jaime."

"There was nothing more than sleeping going on in there," Jaime admitted. "When she didn't come home and I found out she was out there, drunk with Dwayne, I thought she was leaving me for him. I was ready to fight for her, even though I throw a pretty lousy punch with my left hand – ask the wall in Brienne's chamber."

"And now?"

"I don't know about 'now,' Tyrion. I just know I love her, and I hope she'll realize it when she's sobered up. If she feels anywhere near as awful as I do after seeing her in bed with another man…seven hells, Tyrion, she was wearing his tunic and he wasn't! But if she still wants me, even if something happened in that room, I still…" Jaime stopped and put his head in his hand.

Tyrion patted his shoulder consolingly, "You still…?" he prompted.

"I still want her with me, forever. Gods, Tyrion, this night just got worse and worse, and now it just feels worse and worse."

"Tell me about it," Tyrion said, leaning back against the wall and stretching his legs out, "I've been looking for you everywhere. After I encountered the Troublesome Trio I tried to find you so that you could tell Brienne the truth and take her home."

"So youdidn't believe I fucked Cersei."

"Mostly I didn't."

"Thanks," Jaime said wryly, "and thanks for trying to find me. Where did you look?"

"The Maidenvault, Traitor's Walk – don't ever open the door to the first room up there, by the way – "

"You met Lord Branson, then," Jaime almost smiled.

"And his fuzzy little cock," Tyrion said distastefully, "what crime is he even in for, besides those against nature?"

"You know, I've always suspected he's just somebody who found a convenient and free place to sleep."

"Not as dumb as he looks, then," Tyrion said. "Maybe we should fix him up with that Helyn woman in the Maidenvault."

"She's been doing the deed with a Dothraki," Jaime said, "She'd never settle for Branson."

"She's…what?"

"Yes, one of my guards, Hemikh, gave himself up as a distraction for me when I still thought I needed to sneak in. Pretty sure it wasn't the last time for them. Don't let her find out about your over-sized sword or she might take a liking to you."

"I suppose then maybe she would remember me, at least." Tyrion said, "That woman really is a few spikes short of a morning star."

Jaime laughed.

"There's my boy," Tyrion said, "I'm sure we can set things to rights with your girl. What's your plan?"

"Plan?" Jaime asked, his laughter dying as he thought of Brienne sleeping just down the corridor. At least there was a lot of space between them, he remembered. "I think to start I'm going to go to bed, but not back in the Maidenvault, not in her room. I'll go sleep in my room in Traitor's Walk tonight."

Tyrion shivered, "A comfortless place," he remarked.

"Yes, but when Brienne returns to her room she might not want to see me. I'd as soon give her a chance to decide if and when she wants to. Do you think once Loras explains that she'll still be upset?"

"I don't know, Jaime," Tyrion said, "how about you: are you angry?"

"I'm angry at Cersei. No, I'm more than angry at Cersei; she better stay out of my sight - forever. Brienne…I don't know what happened between her and Ser Dwayne," Jaime looked at the ceiling, trying to get control of the emotion in his voice. "I'll get over whatever happened. I sent ravens to Tarth this afternoon, Tyr. No, whatever happens, I'm not letting her walk away from what we have."

You're a good man," Tyrion said.

Jaime shrugged, "I'm alright."

"So, time for bed, then?" Tyrion said and yawned.

"Yes, off to get my things out of the Maidenvault and go enjoy my luxurious quarters in Traitor's Walk. I don't suppose you want to tell me now what the queen wants of Brienne?"

"And rob you of the many, many things you two need to talk about? No. Sleep well."

Tyrion got off the bench and hugged Jaime where he sat. Jaime held him tight for a moment and then gave him a little shove. Tyrion chuckled and walked away.

Jaime made his way out of the holdfast and into the yard, where the snow was falling again, silent and gentle. He made the short slog to the Maidenvault. The chair by the doors stood empty. In Brienne's chambers the fire in the hearth had gone out and the candles he had left burning flickered deep down in their wax shells.

Jaime found some parchment and a quill in a small writing table and sat down to compose a note. He sat for several minutes tapping the end of the quill against his teeth. He seldom wrote, and his penmanship was little improved from the time when he first lost his hand, but Brienne knew his writing and would understand its lack of beauty:

My Dearest Brienne,

I will be in Traitor's Walk.

I love you.

Jaime

He hoped Brienne would read into those few sentences what he really wanted to say: 'Please come to me in Traitor's Walk and tell me you still love me. Come so I can tell you that I love you.'

Jaime took the letter and set it on the bed, then bent and took the stained rose out of his boot and placed it across the top. He lit a fresh candle and set it on the bedside table so there might be light whenever Brienne came in in the morning. He blew out the other candles, watching as the wisps of fragrant smoke twisted out of them and dispersed.

Melancholy settled over Jaime as he scooped up his saddle bag and hung it over his shoulder. One last look at the room they had only the one night and one morning together in, and then he was shutting the door behind him.

Brienne

Brienne awoke and found herself in a strange bed. She lay still a moment, her wide eyes trying to form shapes out of the darkness. She didn't recognize anything. Someone was beside her. Jaime? No, not Jaime. She would know his silhouette on the darkest of nights. They could always sense each other in darkness; it had become something of a survival skill.

As she began to make out different levels of shadow she saw that the figure beside her, a man, had curly hair. Loras. She sat up and stared at him in the dark. Faint glimmers of the night began to pulsate in her aching head. She tried to catch bits of them as they floated by, but everything was a jumble.

Brienne took a deep breath and tried to concentrate. The first thing she thought of was Jaime. Where's Jaime? Then the images came swarming back to her and she remembered retreating after seeing Cersei and Jaime in the hall. The anguish she had felt also rushed back and she gasped at the strength of it. She remembered going to the dining hall and ordering wine; she hadn't eaten and the wine spread through her blood quickly. The images that followed were indistinct, but still gave her an idea of what had happened. The wine, the tears, the servant looming over her, the rum…the memories became less clear, less orderly. Dwayne, more rum, more tears, Loras, Loras stroking her hair, the servant laughing. 'Jaime's fucking Cersei', an echo running through and permeating each scene. Then Dwayne holding her up, the two of them staggering out, Tyrion, Loras again, the unending echo of betrayal. She and Dwayne falling into a heap of snow, laughing, making snow septas. Did they really? It was all starting to seem unreal and Brienne wondered which parts happened and which she might have dreamed while she slept. The stables, Sean, Ser Fluffy, fuck-head, so tired, Sean open the latch, please Sean, I'm so tired…

Then they were in the Holdfast, staggering, her arms slung over Dwayne and Loras' shoulders as she tried to walk. Scary old man smiling at Loras, talking, Dwayne almost falling over and unbalancing her. Did they fall down? Suddenly she wondered not if they'd fallen, but how many times. Loras looking exhausted, his lips pursed in frustration. This room. A bowl with dragons formed in silver. Don't get too close to the dragons…jerking back and missing the dragons…and the bowl.

Brienne plucked at the tunic she was wearing, certain it would smell of vomit. It smelled a little of sweat. Not her sweat. Not her tunic, after all. She could still smell vomit somewhere.

"Loras!" she whispered, nudging his shoulder.

"Mmm," he said and rolled over so his back was to her.

She gave him a harder nudge and then noticed Dwayne on the other side, his long legs flung apart and seeming to cover the entire bed.

"Loras! Wake up!" she hissed, tugging at his hair.

"Ow!" he groaned and sat up. "I'm awake! Why did you pull my hair?" he took a second to let his eyes adjust in the dark, "How do you feel? Are you going to be sick again? Do you need the bowl?"

Brienne flushed with embarrassment. She had the feeling this night would haunt her for a while. "What happened?" she said quietly, "Why am I here?"

"Hang on," Loras said, and scooted down the middle of the bed to get off the end. He picked up a candle and a taper and took them over to the fireplace. He stuck the taper in the embers and then got the candle going. In the golden light Brienne could see Dwayne was shirtless, his broad chest moving with his measured breathing. So, she was probably wearing his tunic.

Loras set the candle on the table by Brienne's side of the bed and then sat down beside her.

"Sweetling, it might be easier if you tell me what you do remember, and I'll fill in the blanks."

Brienne looked at him gratefully. Her head was starting to pound fiercely and her mouth tasted like she'd eaten something her cat back home had dragged in from the garden. A dead vole, perhaps.

"Is there any water?" she asked Loras, and he picked a full cup up from the table next to her, giving her a teasing smile. She gulped most of it down at once and wished there were more. Much as she wanted to ask for some, she wanted information first.

"I saw Jaime and Cersei," she said, not recapping that scene, "I came to the Dining Hall and asked for wine. I had a lotof wine." She looked at Loras for confirmation and he nodded encouragingly. "I spilled some wine and wanted rum, and Dwayne sat down. Then things start to get confusing. Did you come in with Dwayne?"

"I came in several minutes later," Loras told her, "On the second jar of rum. We took most of the third jar with us."

"We saw Tyrion."

"Tyrion was worried about you, and we told him about Jaime and Cersei."

Brienne flinched a little, but went on, "Did we fall in some snow?"

"You and Dwayne did, and then you made about a half dozen snow septas each."

"Oh, I thought I had imagined that."

"You wish. We left the hall because you got a sudden urge to commune with your horse, so we went to the stables with you."

"I vaguely remember asking Sean to undo the latch on his gate."

"Well, you did have quite the heart to heart with him, declared your undying love and intention to spend the night next to him…"

Brienne nudged Loras with her shoulder and he chuckled quietly.

"You actually did announce your intention to spend the night with your horse. You were going to share his blanket, I believe."

Brienne sighed, "Yes, Sean is generous like that. I don't remember much of anything after the stables. We were in a hallway, talking to a very serious old man, and then something about praying to the old gods and the new as I was sick in a bowl I can picture all too clearly. "

"You were calling on the gods as you wretched your guts out as I recall. Dwayne and I had half dragged, half carried you here from the stables. Dwayne was pretty drunk as well, and both of you kept getting tangled and falling. It seemed a very long walk. You owe me, by the way, for getting your arse up those ridiculous serpentine steps. What a nightmare! So we got in here, and Leyre, the steward, gave us the Grumkin Glare and told us Jaime had been there earlier, looking for you."

"Oh." Brienne said quietly. "And?"

"Dwayne started going on about how Jaime didn't deserve you, and that he was a whore-brother…"

"Whore-brother?"

"I'll tell you another time. So Dwayne is orating, and you fell down, he fell trying to pick you up, and Lord Leyre and I stood back and gave you both the Glare."

"Did we fall a lot, tonight?" Brienne asked.

"I would say you're going to have quite a few good bruises, mostly from the steps. You did careen off the walls in the building quite a bit as well."

Brienne cringed, embarrassed. "I'm really sorry for being such a bother. I've never had so much to drink before. I was…" she lowered her head and wiped her eyes, "I was, am, upset. It really isn't like me to tell anyone my problems except, well, except Jaime."

"Aww, Sweetling," Loras said, putting his hand over hers, "anyone would have been upset to see Cersei with a cock in her hand."

If Loras expected his jape to make Brienne laugh, he was to be disappointed. She made a little strangled sound and looked away from him, blinking back tears.

"Brienne, Jaime did come by here again a couple of hours ago looking for you. He'd been looking for you all evening."

"What did he say?" Brienne asked, wiping her nose on her borrowed sleeve.

"I told him we thought he was fucking Cersei again, and he said he's not. He told me he knocked Cersei on her bitch arse for, as he put it "sticking that foul claw of hers" in his breeches. I remembered the phrase he used so I could tell you."

Brienne looked unconvinced, "But they came out of her room,"

"Jaime said she wanted to talk about Tommen in her room. He said he was stupid, which he was. I think he's telling the truth, Brienne. I think Cersei wanted you to see what she did."

"How did he seem?"

Loras sighed, "You know those sad cow eyes he gets sometimes?" Brienne nodded, her mouth quirking up a little, "I've never seen his eyes so sad. He looked quite tragic. "

"But he denies doing anything with Cersei?"

"Other than making Cersei go 'thud' and being stupid and too trusting? Yes."

Brienne took a deep breath. "I don't remember him being here. Did we talk?"

"No, sweetling, you were passed out in the bed with Dwayne the Drunk here."

Brienne glanced over at Dwayne and frowned a little. "Jaime didn't see me then?"

"Oh, he saw you. I almost felt sorry for him. He couldn't take his eyes off of you. I offered to wake you up, but he said to let you sleep."

"And Dwayne? Was he asleep as well?"

Loras nodded.

"Next to me?"

"This is a big bed, and before Jaime woke me up I'd been sleeping in the middle between you Dwayne. Now you can tell him you slept with two men."

"Not funny." Brienne said.

"You'll laugh about this later."

"Will Jaime?"

"Do you want him to laugh about it later? I didn't mention to him that I was in the bed, too, but a little jealousy won't hurt him. I did tell him you and Dwayne were 'just friends,' because the look on his face was just killing me."

"Do you really think nothing happened between him and Cersei?" Brienne asked, trying not to look too hopeful.

"What you told us you witnessed sounded really awful; but yes, I believe him. What's going on with you two, anyway? Anyone seeing you together wouldn't doubt you're in love. Why would you doubt it?"

"We only recently admitted it to each other."

"Huh," Loras said, "that's about the dumbest thing I've ever heard."

"We had other things to deal with before. You know, finding Sansa Stark, battling the Others…"

"For two of the bravest people I know that's a really disappointingly craven excuse."

"But – "

"So damaged, both of you."

Brienne put her hand up to her scar.

"Not damaged that way. In here," Loras said, thumping his chest. "Jaime and I weren't always friends Brienne, but we got to know each other better after his maiming. He mentioned you a lot after he sent you on that quest. He's not hard to read."

Brienne smiled shyly.

"You're probably too good for the old cripple, but I think you should at least go hear what he has to say."

"He's not an old cripple!" Brienne said vehemently.

"I'm pretty sure that's how he feels right now. Even though he knows why you ran off and got drunk, you still ended up in bed with a younger man with both hands and better prospects."

"Oh, my poor Jaime. How could he ever think I would choose anyone over him? He's, well, he's Jaime. He's the best man I know."

"Well, Dwayne here is quite nice, too."

Brienne smirked at Loras.

"And he's cute, too." He said with a sly smile.

"Jaime's much cuter," Brienne whispered, glancing at the sleeping giant beside them. "But he's taken. Have you told Dwayne how you feel yet?"

"Nah, I'm working up to it. Do you think he –?

"How could he resist you?"

"He might worry about his father, his reputation as a knight. I don't know what it's like on Lorath, but in Westeros men like us are still barely tolerated. Besides, I'm not sure he's ready to admit to himself what he wants."

"Tell you what, Loras, I'm going to go back to my room, and hopefully Jaime won't be too upset at my sleeping with Dwayne here to talk to me. You need to cuddle up against this one while he sleeps and let things happen from there. If you're very lucky it shouldn't take more than a couple of years at the outside for him to realize he's madly in love with you."

Loras looked down at Dwayne, who responded with an open-mouthed snore and turned on his side in his sleep. Brienne raised her eyebrows at Loras and tilted her head.

"Okay, okay," Loras laughed.

"I should go. I hate to ask, but where is my tunic?"

"I sent it to be washed. You'll have to wear Dwayne's for now. Jaime already saw you in it."

"Do you know where my leather rose is?"

"No, last I saw it was in the dining hall. You were pretty vocal about hating roses, so you may have left it there to be thrown out. So, in bed with another man, wearing his tunic, threw out a token of his love…you'll have plenty to explain, huh?"

Brienne looked troubled, "It's a mess. "

"And it's mostly Cersei's fault," Loras said.

"Why only mostly Cersei?"

"If you had trusted Jaime, you wouldn't have run away before you could see what happened next."

"Next time." Brienne said darkly.

"Next time, what?"

"Next time I'll break that pretty little nose of hers."

"I'll look forward to that."

"Good night, Loras. Thank you for being such a good friend." Brienne kissed him on the cheek.

Loras stood up with her and walked her to the door, giving her a hug before she left.

"Good luck," they said at the same time, and chuckled.

Brienne walked as quickly as possible on her wobbly legs. She could tell there was still quite a bit of alcohol running through her veins. Loras was right, those stairs were horrible.

Brienne noticed Helyn wasn't at her post and wondered if she were with Hemikh somewhere. She wondered if the woman even had her own sleeping quarters. She must, somewhere.

Opening the door to her own room, Brienne immediately saw that Jaime wasn't inside. Panic stabbed through her as she went further inside and saw his saddlebag was gone, too. There was one candle burning next to the bed. By its light she saw Jaime's note with her rose on top.

Gods, he found this after I lost it and left it here to reject me. She was afraid of what the note contained and sat on the bed for several minutes holding the rose, looking at how bedraggled and stained it was through her tears. With a deep breath she unfolded the note and read what Jaime had written.

My Dearest Brienne,

I will be in Traitor's Walk.

I love you.

Jaime

She began to cry hard, great hiccupping sobs taking her breath away.

I love you.

Every line, every word, spoke to her, but I love you, written in his clumsy script, made her heart ache and soar at the same time.

She quickly found fresh clothes, stripped off Dwayne's tunic and scrubbed herself as thoroughly as she could of its scent at her wash basin. She scrubbed the foul taste from her mouth and teeth and drank almost the entire pitcher of water next to the basin. Once she was dressed she carefully folded Dwayne's tunic and hid it in her drawer. She would send it back to him later. Or dispose of it; she was pretty sure Jaime wouldn't want to see Dwayne in it again, either.

Jaime's letter she folded and placed in a small leather bag where she kept her few treasured possessions, most of them related to Jaime in some way. A strip of his sleeve he'd bound a small wound of hers with, a short lock of his hair wrapped with a strand of leather, other scrawled notes, though none like the one that now joined them. She hesitated over the rose, trying to decide whether to keep it with her or leave it safely in the satchel. She put it with the note and closed the clasp.

Brienne set one of the stark swan pillows at the edge of the soft, thick blanket on the bed and folded and rolled them tightly together, securing them with her belt. She blew out the candle and left the room without a backwards glance.

She was glad for her high boots as she pushed through the deepening snow to get to Traitor's Walk. It seemed to take a long time to get there, but she finally stepped into the tower, over a small muddied tapestry, and up the stairs as quietly as she could. She paused outside of Jaime's door and took a deep breath. She was nervous and shaking, but she thought of his note and took courage from that.

Opening the door silently, she could see Jaime asleep in the uncomfortable bed with his back to the door. Brienne felt a rush of tenderness seeing his familiar form, the rise and fall of his breathing, the gleam of his flowing hair. She unstrapped her belt from the blanket and hung it on the peg along with her cloak. Moving slowly, she spread the blanket over Jaime. Finally she crawled in beside him, arranged the pillow beneath her head and slid her arm under Jaime's head. She relaxed against him, the tension flowing away as his warmth spread through her.

Jaime turned over sleepily, facing her. "Brienne," he said, drawing her name out on a long exhale as he wrapped his arms around her and held her, his forehead against her neck, his lips at her collarbone. "My love," he whispered, and she knew he was crying, just as she was.