Chapter 28: King's Landing: Five
Jaime
Jaime rides with Brienne under a flag of truce to the enemy camp and they are escorted to the man calling himself Aegon Targaryen.
Jaime didn't know what he expected, but it's clear that this man—whoever he may truly be—actually appears to have Valyrian blood in him with his silver hair and purple eyes. Jaime searches Aegon's features, seeking echoes of Rhaegar, shadows of Elia, and finds...only Valyrian. Jaime is grateful there does not seem to be any tinge of Aerys' madness; the gods have been kind enough for that, at least.
Jaime and Brienne stand tall and proud, their armor burnished to a shine. Aegon watches them curiously, and his eyes linger long on Brienne's face and form. His advisors sit close to him and range from the equally curious Arianne Martell and Jon Connington, to the regretful Willas Tyrell, now Lord of Highgarden, to the dismissively triumphant Randyll Tarly.
"You have arrived under flag of truce," Jon Connington finally says briskly. "Tell us what you wish to say. Quickly."
Jaime calmly meets the young dragon's gaze, waiting for Brienne to speak. The young man's eyes are clear and there's an honesty in them that reminds him of Brienne. If this boy truly is Aegon Targaryen, Jaime hopes the gods allowed the coin to land on kindness and sanity rather than the madness that ruled the boy's grandfather.
"We have come to sue for peace and offer terms under which we are willing to surrender the Iron Throne," Brienne says, her voice calm and clear, carrying to all corners of the tent.
Lord Tarly's lip lifts in a sneer. "And what care we for your terms of surrender? We can crush you and that cursed city behind you readily enough."
"We wish to spare the smallfolk any more pain," she says, "and have come to parley with you in good faith, and to beg you to show mercy."
"Mercy?" Aegon snorts. "To a Lannister?" He scowls angrily at Jaime. "You broke your sacred oath and murdered my grandfather. Your father ordered my sister murdered. My mother raped and murdered. I, too, was to be killed but instead my rescuers were forced to sacrifice some poor child in my place. Why should I show mercy to such as you?"
Sudden fiery rage coils in Jaime's stomach.
"Do you truly believe you are Aegon Targaryen and not some bastard left behind by Aerys or Rhaegar?" he snarls. "My father would never have allowed the true prince to slip through his fingers. But let us pretend for a moment that you are Aegon Targaryen, son of Rhaegar, grandson of Aerys. Mayhaps we should then also speak of the sins of your House, my lord. Your father kidnapped and raped a high-born maiden and plunged us all into war. And do you truly wish me to detail your grandfather's crimes? I saw and heard them all, standing there in that oh-so-sacred white cloak, with my brothers whispering in my ear that it was not my place to judge him." He barks a harsh, bitter laugh. "Tell me, my young dragon prince—do you wish me to tell you what it sounds like when someone burns alive in their armor? Their screams are not the only noise, you know. Or mayhaps you would rather know what they looked like? Or are you more interested in the smells? I have many such moments to share, Lord Aegon, and I remember them all, every detail. Or mayhaps you would prefer to hear of how your grandfather treated your grandmother? Tell me: do you truly wish to compare the atrocities committed by my House and yours?"
He's pleased to see the pretender pale. Jaime's smile is cruel and he knows he should stop but his rage at the Targaryen madness and the blindness of the Kingsguard has grabbed him by the throat.
"I showed your grandfather more mercy than he ever granted his subjects or his wife. At least I killed him quickly. Mayhaps I should have burned him alive; would that have satisfied your Targaryen blood?"
Jon Connington opens his mouth but Aegon raises his hand and stops his words. The boy looks shaken, frowning as he considers Jaime.
Jaime startles at the touch of Brienne's hand on his. He glances at her wide, worried eyes and after a moment, he bows his head and turns back to the Pretender, struggling to get his emotions in check.
"My pardons, my lord," Jaime finally manages to say. "I have not come here to make war with you, but to broker peace. Surrender, I find, does not sit well upon my shoulders."
Jon eyes him suspiciously. "Why would you surrender so readily, Kingslayer?"
Brienne says, "Because it is in the best interests of the realm to do so."
Jaime thinks their listeners have no idea of the depth of truth in those words.
Brienne says, "Our terms—"
"Your terms?" Randyll Tarly interrupts with a sneer. "As if we would trust a Lannister to keep their word about any terms they offer!"
Brienne's eyes grow cold. "I am Brienne of Tarth, Lord Tarly, and even you will admit I am a woman of honor. More, I am a true knight, even if it sticks in your craw to admit it."
"What terms do you offer?" Aegon asks with an annoyed glance at Lord Tarly, and the boy rises a notch in Jaime's estimation.
"We shall surrender King's Landing and the Iron Throne and bend the knee to you as the trueborn son of Rhaegar Targaryen. In return, we ask you to spare the lives of Tommen and Myrcella Baratheon and the lives of the Lannister soldiers."
"I know you shall treat my cousins kindly when they bend the knee," Jaime says. "They have committed no crimes, after all. But I do have four additional terms, my lords and lady, but you shall find they are small demands indeed."
Tarly snorts.
Jaime ignores him. "First, treat the Gold Cloaks well. They have had a trying few weeks and months and have done their best to protect the city and the smallfolk from my sweet sister's follies. Commander Tristan has been an able leader to them and should remain so. You will find he has no particular loyalty to any House and his men and the smallfolk trust him; they were able to quell the recent rioting in less than a day with almost no bloodshed on either side. Second, there is one particular Gold Cloak: Denys. He saved my lady's life and fought valiantly by my side when he could have easily dropped his sword and fled. I have rewarded him with gold and a knighthood and a small house sitting vacant in Lannisport, waiting for him whenever he wishes to claim it. I ask that you honor the promises made to him.
"I also have a list of the other Gold Cloaks and sellswords who fought by our side against impossible odds only a few days ago. The rewards they are to receive are listed beside each name. Again, I ask that you honor the promises made to them."
Aegon watches him with puzzled eyes.
"And the fourth?" he asks.
"That you spare Lady Brienne's life. She has done nothing wrong except be forced to marry the infamous Kingslayer."
Brienne turns her head and glares at him.
"If she will allow herself to be spared, of course," he says and gives her a ghost of a smile.
Aegon's puzzled frown doesn't ease.
"And will you allow yourself to be spared, Lady Brienne?" Randyll Tarly snickers. "And if we do spare you, what are we to do with the Kingslayer's whore?"
Both Aegon and Willas speak sharply to Lord Tarly, but Brienne's face doesn't twitch. She glares steadily at the man.
"I am the Kingslayer's wife, not his whore, Lord Tarly, as you well know. You were at the wedding, after all," she says, her voice tight with anger. "I am also a highborn woman and an honorable warrior, which is fortunate for you. 'Tis a pity we are under a flag of truce and offering surrender, for I have had a trying few weeks and would dearly enjoy sending you to meet the Stranger. Instead, I must beg Lord Targaryen's mercy to ignore my lord husband's wishes and I only request that I share whatever fate he decrees for Ser Jaime."
Aegon looks startled.
"You would die with the Kingslayer, if that is my command?" he asks.
"I swore an oath to him," Brienne says calmly. "Wherever we go, we go together."
"What if you are with child?"
Tarly snorts at that but thankfully keeps his mouth shut for Jaime's not certain if Brienne would have stayed still for any more insults. Lord Willas, Jaime notices, gives Tarly a thoughtful look and suppresses a smirk, and Jaime fondly remembers the sparring session with Brienne in Oldtown. One more night together, he thinks wistfully, if they're lucky.
Brienne flicks her contemptuous gaze over Tarly before turning to Aegon. "I am not with child. And if I were, would you allow the child to live? To bear the Lannister name? To inherit Casterly Rock?"
"I have no wish to extinguish the Lannister line."
"Then you are unlike your Targaryen ancestors, my lord. Did they not destroy the Blackfyres?"
"Just as House Lannister destroyed the Reynes and the Castermeres."
Brienne tilts her head in a regal acknowledgement. "So they did."
Tarly rolls his eyes. "This is all well and good," he sniffs, "but we can take King's Landing in half-a-day. I know the forces you have at your command, Kingslayer, and you are not here because you are in a position of strength."
"But we are here, Lord Tarly," Brienne says, her voice sharp, and Jaime fights to hide his grin at her arrogance, "and we have little time to waste on your posturing."
"Lord Tarly speaks rudely but he speaks true as well," Aegon says. "You would ask us to spare the lives of the Usurper's children in return for something ripe for the plucking."
"Mayhaps not so ripe," Brienne says. "We offer ourselves and Queen Cersei in place of King Tommen and Princess Myrcella. If you must publicly execute someone, then let it be us."
Tarly laughs. "And we can take the city and kill you all regardless." He smirks at Aegon. "Useless terms," he says.
"I am not finished," Brienne says. "We have...resources you know naught about, Lord Tarly, and I will give the order to unleash them upon you if need be."
Jaime's eyes widen although he maintains a stoic expression.
"What resources?" Tarly sneers. "Half-starved smallfolk and a few thousand men? Pah!"
"You speak confidently for one so ill-informed. Do you know the Wall has fallen? The Others have returned and are on the march, bringing winter ever more strongly with them. You do not have as much time as you believe."
"At least your lies are creative," Aegon mutters.
"Send trusted advisors to us, under a flag of truce. You have my word no harm will come to them. I will show them what we have and prove that I speak truth about the North."
"We ask very little in return for surrendering the city without bloodshed," Jaime quickly adds. "Spare the lives of two children who have been naught but pawns; respect the men who have honored their Houses by fighting for their liege lord; treat the men charged with the safety of the city kindly. We wish no more battles in the streets of King's Landing. The smallfolk have suffered enough in this bloody game of thrones. The Iron Throne means next to nothing to us. Take it, and may the gods give you luck with it. You'll need it."
*/*/*/*/*
As they ride back to King's Landing, Jaime says, "Resources they know naught about?"
She glances at him from the corners of her eyes. "You know full well what I mean."
They ride in silence, until Jaime quietly says, "Never make a threat you are not prepared to carry out."
"You once threatened to return a babe to its father by trebuchet. Did you intend to carry that out?"
"Yes," Jaime says, "but I knew Edmure Tully would know that as well. I knew he would yield."
"And if he hadn't?" she asks, the endless blue of her eyes challenging him.
He shrugs. "The Riverlands were starving. I have no doubt I would have found some poor babe, dead at his mother's teat, to send over the wall. At that age, none would have known the difference."
Brienne stares at him for a long moment then gives him a slight smile. "The ruthless Kingslayer," she says, softly mocking.
Jaime smiles his knife-like smile. "It helped me take Riverrun without spilling a drop of Tully or Stark blood."
"So it did," Brienne murmurs and now her smile is a little wider. "I have no more wish than you to bring out the creatures Qyburn has created, however, doing so would solve at least one problem for us."
Jaime nods as the gate opens for them. "And throw the enemy into disarray. 'Tis not a bad plan, Brienne. I only hope it will not be needed."
*/*/*/*/*
Brienne
Jon Connington, Willas Tyrell, Arianne Martell, and five soldiers arrive the next morning, under a flag of truce.
Jaime and Brienne take them first to Samwell Tarly, who nervously pulls out the glass candle. After several minutes of fumbling, it flares once more into sudden life and their visitors startle back then pale as Melisandre's face appears.
Melisandre carries her glass candle to Jon Snow and Stannis Baratheon, and as she goes, the images that are in the light are sharper than they had been a couple days before. Brienne doesn't know if it is because Sam and Melisandre are getting better at using the glass candles or if it's because those in the north are now somewhat closer to King's Landing. As Melisandre walks, Brienne sees the mass of smallfolk and Wildlings and Night's Watch brothers and the armies of the North she passes, the people slowly trudging through the snow, wearing whatever rags they've managed to find to ward against the cold, and Brienne's stomach tightens in sympathy.
When Jon Snow and Stannis Baratheon finally appear, they are quickly briefed on what is happening in King's Landing and they, in turn, give them a summary of what's been happening in the North.
"Progress is slow," Jon says, "and we lost at least ten people in last night's attack. At least, that was the number we found and burned this morning."
"Melisandre is using her magic to set the forest aflame behind us," Stannis says, "but the snow is getting heavier and the cold cuts deeper with every mile. We never seem to gain enough time to put sufficient distance between us and the Others."
Brienne looks at their guests' faces and nods to herself. They all look shaken and ashen and she has no doubt they will convince Aegon of the reality and seriousness of the threat coming from the north.
When the light of the candle is extinguished, it's time to show them what's in the black cells.
*/*/*/*/*
Tears trickle down Arianne's cheeks as she stands with her hands clenched into tight fists, staring for a long time at what used to be Nymeria Sand.
*/*/*/*/*
That night, there is more than a hint of desperation in the kisses Brienne shares with Jaime. She does her best to be aware of every touch, every kiss, every sensation, to sear each moment in her memory. Jaime seems to need the same, because he draws everything out for as long as possible, his green eyes intent upon her face.
Neither of them truly sleep. They hold tight to each other and talk quietly of all they would have liked to have accomplished as Lord and Lady Lannister. Together they dream of children, of Casterly Rock, of Tarth. They doze and wake and doze again, until finally it seems it must be morning, even if the sky is still dark, and they dance together one more time.
When it's all finally over and they force themselves to leave their bed to face the day, Brienne finds the marks left from his mouth and hands on her freckled skin and struggles against the urge to weep.
*/*/*/*/*
Aegon accepts the terms of their surrender and Jaime orders the gates of the city to be opened.
Tommen and Myrcella do not weep when they are brought before the new King, sitting high above them on the Iron Throne, nor do they weep when they are led away to be imprisoned in separate rooms of the Red Keep. Brienne rather hopes the children will discover another secret tunnel that connects them and mayhaps they can then disappear once more inside the walls of the castle if Aegon treats them badly.
Cersei, too, is stoic and proud when she is brought into the throne room, her eyes shooting green fire at the boy upon the chair she had fought so hard to gain for herself.
Jaime and Brienne stand at Cersei's side as Aegon announces they are all to be put to death, at a time and place of his choosing. Jaime and Brienne are then stripped of their armor and weapons and all three are locked into their own black cell, each far away from the others.
*/*/*/*/*
The blackness is absolute when the torches are taken away, and the air is cold. Brienne thinks she hears Cersei screaming but it may be she is only dreaming it.
She gropes her way round the cell and finds a bucket for her waste, and a pile of damp, stinking straw for her bed.
She reluctantly lowers herself to the straw, praying the creatures Qyburn created are all safely locked in their own cells, and settles herself to wait.
*/*/*/*/*
For the first time in a long time, she dreams of Lady Catelyn and Lady Stoneheart. She dreams of broken oaths piling at her feet, of the Hound's helm flying through the air. She dreams of a noose round her neck and swinging her sword to remove Jaime's head from his shoulders.
She wakes, crying Jaime's name and for a moment she panics at the absolute blackness that surrounds her. It takes her several minutes before she remembers where she is, and then, hidden in the darkness of her prison, she finally allows herself to weep.
*/*/*/*/*
Two days later, Brienne's guards arrive and swing open the doors.
She gains her feet, her eyes watering against the glare of their torches, her joints aching from the cold of the stone floor and damp straw. She squints against the light then straightens her shoulders.
"So soon?" she says, but they don't bother to respond.
She's escorted to the throne room and her heart leaps when she sees Jaime standing at the foot of the steps leading to the Iron Throne, looking tired and dirty but unharmed. His own relief at seeing her shines from his eyes.
They turn as one to face Aegon.
The boy is scowling into space more than at them and they wait for the new King to speak. Finally he sighs and looks at them.
"I have been having the same dream for the last two nights," he says. "In my dream, I see fire and ice and the shadows of great beasts passing over the world. I also see two swords flickering with red flames and slicing into creatures with shining blue eyes. Lord Willas and Samwell Tarly insist the swords must be Oathkeeper and Widow's Wail, and the swords will flame only for you. That this proves you are both the hero foretold to come again to stop the Others."
Brienne and Jaime exchange glances but say nothing.
Aegon sighs again. "I am leading a contingent of men to Moat Cailin, to join Jon Snow and Stannis Baratheon in their fight against the Others. I am ordering you both to join us."
*/*/*/*/*
