Chapter 36

Jaime – examining the past

Jaime tossed and turned as Brienne's message kept zooming in his head. Tyrion riding a dragon? Tyrion having a different father? It made no sense at all. If Brienne had been fond of jokes, he'd have taken it as such, but she wasn't. So it must be true. Three riders, though the letter hadn't provided the identity of the third rider. Father had hated Tyrion, that much was true, and the feeling had been mutual. It still hurt to think that Tyrion had killed him. Jaime had had his own differences with his father but killing him would never had crossed his mind. Then again, he had killed a family member he loved, which was probably worse than killing someone you hated.

As sleep would not catch him, he began to think back to his childhood. Had his father said something? Had Cersei? Something tangible or clear? Cersei had been adamant that Tyrion could never join them in their games. A smile lingered on his lips. Some of their games were not meant to be seen after all. She had hated Tyrion from the start, calling him a monster. He had killed mother and Cersei had taken father's lead in that. Jaime had played with Tyrion, usually knights or knights and dragons. Tyrion was infatuated with them, he recalled. Jaime had stood up for Tyrion a few times if Cersei accused him of something or other. She would jape at him, whenever he'd played with his little brother, during her embroidery classes. Calling him a traitor, he thought, for siding with him. Why such a strong word, he wondered, was it more than jealousy? Did Cersei actually know something about Tyrion that he did not? Protecting the family, she had later said, numerous times. From inside as well as out.

His father had been furious when he had found out Jaime had joined the Kingsguard. It meant Casterly Rock would go to Tyrion. His father would sooner kill Tyrion than ever let that happen. He had said things like: "my only worthy son," but nothing more. No hint that it was for other reasons besides Tyrion's behavior and Jaime being his first born.

If father had known anything for sure, he would not have raised Tyrion as his own, Jaime concluded at last. He would have arranged an accident of some kind. If he had doubts, they never did become clear, they were never actually proven. Perhaps Tyrion had been such a large disappointment because he did believe him to be his own son. Had father known such was not the case, he would have been much more mellow about it.

Perhaps the dragons did not choose on ancestry after all, he thought. Perhaps that was just what people thought. Maybe they just randomly picked someone but had the Targaryens claimed them for themselves without the dragons truly wanting it. They had managed to set up dragons against their brothers too. In Jaime's view Targaryen's were not an example worth following. True, they had ruled for many years, but the one he had served had been ruthless and sadistic beyond compare. Jaime did not want his brother to be one of them. To be obsessed with fire and dragons. He did not want him to become mad.

Dear Brienne, dear brother, he wrote. Your tale is unsettling to me. I strongly believe that if father had known anything for sure Tyrion would not have survived his childhood days. I cannot offer any proof either way. As will not surprise either of you, my feelings towards Targaryens in general are not warm ones. Be careful around those beasts. Remember that its brother has harmed me. It might be that your fascination with dragons from an early age has made them friendly towards you. I long to see the both of you as well. Be safe and be brave. As ever, your faithful friend and brother, Jaime.

After he had written the message, that he would send in the morning by visiting the Maester, sleep did take him. He dreamt of Cersei and Tyrion, of their childhood, of his mother. Jaime was happy and content, but in the midst of it all the Mad King rose. The Iron Throne he had sat on changed into a dragon and he flew away. Tyrion, as a little boy, hung onto the tail. They flew out of sight, Tyrion screaming and the Mad King laughing as his dragon set the whole world ablaze. Jaime woke with a start.

Brienne – receiving the raven

Brienne read the raven before she went to search for Tyrion. He missed them, he said. He told them to be safe and brave. It had made her smile. "I can't do both, Ser Jaime," she had whispered. "If only I could." The thought of her little boy growing up without either or both of his parents stung her deeply, yet might come to pass. She went about the castle and finally found Tyrion outside of its walls, near the dragon that had chosen him. Brienne motioned him to come. She would not get near the beast. Its brother had attacked Jaime and plenty of other men besides.

"I've got your response," she said, as she held up the slip of paper. "Make of it what you will." She waited quietly as Tyrion read his message. He frowned and did not speak for a moment.

"I think he may have a point," Brienne offered tentatively. "Had your father had real doubts would he have acted differently, do you think?"

Tyrion nodded gravely. "I don't doubt it. He was not a sentimental man. However, it doesn't prove or disprove anything. He may not have had doubts, or only the slightest ones, not enough to act on. The family name had to survive; he always did insist on that. And he only had two sons, despite one being an imp. Perhaps he could not afford to lose me." Tyrion laugh was hollow. "How he must have resented it."

Brienne bit her lip. It was hard to listen to such callous, bitter talk; even harder to realize that their father had, in fact, been such a man.

"He is fearful of dragons," she said, "Jaime. He wants you to be careful."

"I can't blame him," Tyrion replied. "It was hard to see him get burnt."

"It's a dreadful mark," Brienne said. "It hurts day and night and there isn't much he can do."

Tyrion shook his head. "There is a rare salve, I've heard. I don't know if he has found the recipe, but I know it exists. I tried to find it for him, but haven't been able to."

Brienne's eyes lit up. "That is hopeful news," she said. "Please don't stop searching for it. Surely the library here at Winterfell will be at your disposal."

He smiled back a little sadly. "We'll be marching to war soon. There will not be any time." With that he stalked of and left Brienne standing knee deep in the snow. She looked at the dragon and briefly closed her eyes. They were so destructive yet did possess a sense of beauty as well.

"Look after him," she whispered, "if only for his brother's sake." The dragon pricked its ears as if he had hear her, but on a closer look, he'd probably been focusing on a hare that would soon be toast.