The next morning, Cersei, Lord Tywin, and Tyrion stand by the port as the boat leading to Tarth is about to sail.
"So you remember what you are supposed to do and say?" Tywin questions.
"Be charming, drink less, don't whore around, and make sure that the marriage contract is to our advantage. Yes, yes," Tyrion rolls his eyes. "Do I really get bodyguards to make sure that I do that?"
He glares at the now hooded men his father arrived with who are seemingly there to kill him off in case Tyrion decides to act in Brienne's favour after all, or try to escape his duties.
Not many men get to share their cabin with their hangmen. At some point Tyrion reckons he should feel prided that his father considers a dwarf that much of a threat to send three along.
"I just want to be certain that you don't let personal feelings win over your political mission," Tywin shrugs. "If you do as it is required of you, you will be a wealthy man, and will be a trusted member of the Lannister clan."
"And here I thought your son was by birth," Tyrion snorts.
"I wonder where Jaime is…," Tywin makes a face, looking around.
"He and I had a fight last night. I fear he won't come to bid farewell," Tyrion replies with a grimace. "You know how close he is to Brienne."
"Just as are you," Cersei glares at him, arms folded in front of her apparently oh so flat stomach.
"Jaime thinks with his heart. I think with my head. And I don't think that I stand much of a chance against three trustworthy man of my father's guard, no?" Tyrion replies promptly.
"Well, I guess I can wish you and the cow only the best," Cersei replies, forcing a smile.
"Oh, thank you so much, dearest sister. You can't imagine how much that means to me," Tyrion cries out. "Does that mean I get a hug? Oh, you!"
Tyrion goes ahead to embrace her tightly around the calves, and Cersei has to fight with all her might not to kick him away.
"Ah, that lightened up this dark day for me at last," Tyrion says as he pulls away. He turns to his father, "Well, then I suppose I should better be on my way."
"Indeed. Just keep in mind…," Tywin means to say, but Tyrion calls over his shoulder, "Yeah, yeah, I know! Have a safe voyage back to Casterly Rock! And sister?"
"What?" she looks at him.
"I hope your reign will be fruitful!" he calls after her before he disappears on the ship. Cersei narrows her eyes at him as the ship starts to sail.
"The little monster is surely up to something," she growls.
"You are the one to talk," her father replies grimly.
"What now?" she huffs.
"You knew about Lady Brienne's wealth before that ball, didn't you?" Tywin questions. "But instead of telling me so that I could have arranged for your brother to marry her, you kept it to yourself."
"You get what you want now, don't you?" she argues. "Your son marries the cow, the rich cow."
"I am not talking about Tyrion," Tywin replies, turning around. "Brienne of Tarth would have been a wonderful opportunity for me to draw Jaime back to Casterly Rock, had I promised him marriage to her, now that she is prestigious enough a match to help the Lannister clan."
"Well, that option is good all the same," Cersei grimaces. "Whether you get your riches from Tyrion or Jaime shouldn't matter for as long as the gemstones end up in your treasury."
"By no means," Tywin replies. "I won't be forever, and Jaime is the only one I will give Casterly Rock to. Or do you really think I will give it to Tyrion? I came here to talk to your husband about releasing Jaime from his duty, but he denied me, for some reason finding the vow they make suddenly oh so important, which is rather laughable in my view. Or maybe you just said you'd cross your legs if he didn't do as he is told and leaves you your plaything. I don't know, I don't really care either. So I had to go with Tyrion to somehow get a hand on the wealth at least, but that is by no means the same option as would have been the first."
"I still fail to understand why you find it oh so urgent," she argues.
"Because it is. This is my attempt of making sure that the family's wealth is secured, even if it is through Tyrion instead of Jaime. We need the money more than you'd ever know," Tywin explains to her.
"We are rich," Cersei grimaces.
"No longer as much. Rebellions are expensive," Tywin shrugs. "And the rumour goes around that our mines will dry out in the near future."
"That must be a lie," Cersei argues.
"It is not, which is why we need that money. I hope for Lady Brienne's sake that she proves to be smarter than I took her to be, and that she will agree to a marriage to our conditions of having the wealth to secure Casterly Rock foremost," Tywin says. "If not, I fear we will have to dispose of her, which would be a pity."
"Now don't tell me you have a soft spot for the giant cow, too," Cersei grunts.
"By no means. I care little about her. I only care about her function to your brother," Tywin replies. "And only the Gods know that I would rather have him anywhere but here close to you."
Cersei narrows her eyes at him, "But that is not up to you to say, since I am Queen and Jaime is a man of the Kingsguard."
"Exactly," Tywin replies. "So you should put your faith in Tyrion to keep Lady Brienne in good health. If not… I don't know if your twin brother will be very much delighted about their demise, or seek comfort in your arms ever again."
"Is this supposed to be some twisted kind of threat you think you can impose on your adult daughter, Queen of the Seven Kingdoms no less?" she questions.
"No, just an outlook," he replies as they walk back to the Red Keep.
Cersei grimaces, sitting at her study, her hands nervously flexing, shifting in her seat.
Jaime is nowhere to be found.
She has asked several servants to look for him in the Red Keep, without any result. She even sent people out into the city, through the inns and forges, all the way to the port and back. None of the Brothers saw him either. He did not answer his duties to the Iron Throne, didn't seek out Robert, or her. His room was empty, too. The monster's chamber was empty likewise.
Cersei knows that Jaime is not in the least pleased about the latest developments, but he is supposed to be here, with her. After all, she told him the one thing that should bind him. Jaime always put the family first.
So where is he to put her first now?
Or at least the child she offered him?
"Your Grace?" a voice rings out. Cersei whips her head around to the young servant boy with red curls and freckles, "Have you found him at last?"
"No, Your Grace," the boy replies, shaking his head, earning him only a hiss from her, "Then why did you interrupt me?"
"Uhm, we found something else, Your Grace...," the lad says, his voice trailing off.
"Just say it," she demands in a harsh voice, tired of this game already, shifting on her stool another time.
"We found something in the dungeons, Your Grace. Three man, stripped to their smallclothes, beaten up, and manacled," he tells her.
"And how is that of my concern?" she makes a face.
"They claim to be your Father Lord Tywin's men, Your Grace," the ginger tells her.
Cersei blinks repeatedly, trying to process the news.
Her father returned to Casterly Rock, since his only business in King's Landing was the word with the King and setting Tyrion for the marriage to the giant cow.
That means... No, that can't be.
"What?! Who did that? What did they say?" she demands, her hands clenching the fabric of her dress.
"They said three shadows, Your Grace. They are still rather dazed, though," the servant tells her.
"The little monster," she shrieks, getting up, making the boy look at her stunned, "Your Grace?"
She gets up and pushes past him to make her way to the King's study.
"Robert!" she yells as she stomps inside. Robert sits behind his massive wooden table, looking up annoyed, "What is it, wife? I am busy."
"I demand that you let the fastest ship sail to Tarth, to take my little brother prisoner," she hisses, stepping closer, gritting her teeth like a lioness.
"For what crime?" Robert asks, rather annoyed.
"For having abducted Ser Jaime Lannister," she replies, her jaw a straight line, her face red.
"Abducted? I don't think the Imp bears enough strength to overpower or knock out your twin brother to abduct him," Robert chuckles rather amused.
"Do you mean to mock me?" she curses, narrowing her eyes.
"No, no, by no means, I just don't see that I would do such a thing only because my wife is throwing a tantrum," Robert shrugs. "And is paranoid while at it."
"Jaime is your sworn knight, and the little monster must have abducted him! Maybe he had help! Maybe his squire did it!" Cersei goes on.
"If the squire or the Imp managed, then I think it'd be better if your brother is gone. That would be a shame for any member of my Kingsguard," Robert argues.
"He is the best man of your Kingsguard!" Cersei growls.
"And not my most trusted member, let's say. That I pardoned him wasthe required service to your family. But I won't send ships to Tarth for the matter. I need those ships," Robert replies promptly.
"All of them?" she demands.
"All of them," he repeats, nodding his head.
"You can't be sincere," Cersei shrieks.
"Oh, I am more than sincere," Robert tells her sternly.
"What do you need them for?" she demands.
"I don't have to tell you," he shrugs.
"I am your wife!" Cersei yells.
"And I am your King," Robert declares, his voice gaining more and more threat and power with every intake of air.
"You giant boar! You say you wouldn't act like a hotspur? When in fact that was what made you start an entire Rebellion?! Do I mean that little to you as your wife?" Cersei curses.
"I never beat you, I never raped you, and I married you even though I don't trust Lannisters, especially since I got a Kingslayer delivered right to have my back. I treated you with as much respect as can be asked for," Robert tells her, to which she lets out a strangled cry, "Don't you dare say that! You fuck all those whores and spread bastards all over King's Landing! All know it!"
"And still I treat you as my Queen, even though you are truly anything but an innocent lamb. If you lose your plaything, it is hardly my fault," Robert shrugs, little impressed.
"You will send a ship, or I will," Cersei threatens him, but Robert just shakes his head, "No ship will leave unless I give my permission."
"You can't mean that," she growls.
"I think I do mean it. You should learn your place," Robert replies sternly, leaving Cersei stunned for a moment.
"I am Queen," she retorts.
"Again, and I am your King. That means you take your commands from me, not I from you. Unless you can prove me that your little brother committed a crime, I won't move a single finger," Robert says.
"He took Jaime," Cersei insists.
"Did you see that? Or did Jaime just take off?" Robert questions.
"Three men my Father came with were manacled in the dungeons, their garments taken. They were supposed to go with the little monster to Tarth. Jaime must have been forced to take one of their spots to hide his identity!" Cersei tells him.
"What if Tyrion just didn't want his father's entourage with him, and took steps to have them in the dungeons to escape their grasp? Did that ever cross your mind? What if Tyrion took off to Tarth while your brother took off just another direction? You can actually count yourself lucky that I don't send after Jaime," Robert tells her.
"Why don't you?" she frowns, her voice shaking.
"Because you are my wife, that is why," Robert replies.
"What now?" she makes a face.
"If your brother actually ran off on purpose, then he broke his vow to the King. On that sin stands either death penalty or the Wall. Now you tell me, would you want your brother in either place? Just say a word and I will send after him. I will chase him to death, no bother," he warns her. "I grant you that choice because you are my wedded wife. So? What will it be? Do you accuse him of treason?"
"… No," she says at last, her shoulders dropping as the feeling of a small defeat rains down on her.
"That's what I thought," Robert says, picking up one of the parchments to inspect it. "Is there anything else?"
"No," she says, gritting her teeth.
"Then let me finish up my papers in all peace, wife. I have better to do than bother myself with your sinful feelings for a man you shouldn't love the way you do," Robert says. "It's shame enough for us both in a lifetime."
"How dare you?" she hisses.
"I am the King, that is how I dare," Robert replies. Cersei bristles with rage as she turns around to leave.
"Oh, and by the way?" Robert calls after her as Cersei stomps to the door.
"Yes?" she snarls.
"Have Maester Pycelle check out that rash you seem to develop between your thighs. You rub your legs together like a girl in heat. And for that you are getting too old already," Robert says. Cersei has to try hard not to cry out in rage and humiliation as the images of Tyrion hugging her flood back into her mind.
"The little monster," she growls to herself as she disappears into the shadows of the Red Keep, red herself.
Far earlier, Jaime and Tyrion are in Tyrion's room.
"Well, even if torturing Pycelle was very much delightful, I still fear that there is no way for us to call Cersei upon Lord Selwyn's murder, or all the other things she did," Tyrion sighs, folding his hands on his stomach, leaning back in his chair. "She's the Queen. Even if she admitted it in front of all of King's Landing, no one would bother because she is. And anyways, this is still considered bon ton if not a small crime by the rest of the world."
"So we still have the same problem… except for one bastard child less to worry about," Jaime grimaces.
"Well, you should ask yourself why she told you that lie, other than that she lies a whole lot, and that comes from someone who is fluid in that tongue, too," Tyrion snorts.
"She wants to keep me here," Jaime shrugs. "But I don't see why she did that, because she knows that I can't leave because of my duties to the Kingsguard. One word to Robert, and I won't ever step out of King's Landing in a lifetime again."
"You escaped once, when Lord Selwyn died. And that was something she truly never saw coming. I saw it in her eyes on our way back to Casterly Rock. And I think that she still harbours her wish of having Brienne in Tarth forever, married to whoever. She still has to fear that Father will show his much more spiteful side and use a marriage between her and me to get her wealth by virtue of her demise and get rid of his dwarf along with her," Tyrion says, chewing on his lower lip. "So if he decides to have Brienne killed, Cersei has to fear that Brienne will become the eternal flame to you, and that you would avoid her in the future. The only way to bind you to her is by means of sex… and since you seemingly didn't do that in a while, for which I'm more than glad, our dear sister only has the good old excuse of a child. Because she knows that you wouldn't just leave one of your family, even less your own spawn."
"But she is apparently not pregnant," Jaime argues.
"And she will likely lie with Robert if you don't let her close any time soon, to make it appear as though she was pregnant all the while. No one would be able to tell the difference," Tyrion shrugs. "So we just have to ask ourselves how we get you to see Brienne so that you can fix things between you two, so that I don't have to lose my pretty head, and you two finally stop being foolish knights who are too bull-headed to admit that you are head over heels for each other."
Jaime looks at him, still stunned.
"What? Now don't say that this pure invention. I've seen you two interact, and if Cersei thinks that Brienne, whom she wouldn't ever consider a rival otherwise, is a match to her that she has to get rid of, then you can guess that you have been fairly obvious," Tyrion argues.
"I can't marry her," Jaime insists. "Even if I wanted."
"Oh please," Tyrion rolls his eyes in exasperation.
"If I had asked Father to let me marry her instead of you, offering him to become Lord of Casterly Rock in turn, Cersei would have done anything within her powers to remove her, because then Brienne would have been a real rival to her, and way too much within Cersei's reach," Jaime argues. "She has a lot of secret allies in Casterly Rock, still, I am sure."
"True," Tyrion shrugs.
"And I can't marry her because my oath to the King means that if I were to deny it and run off to her without reclaiming lordship, and she'd take me by any chance… she'd be in danger, because she'd help a deserter," Jaime hisses in a low voice. Tyrion tilts his head to the side, "So that is the part of the oath that hindered you all the while?"
"What else would?" Jaime shrugs.
He just never wanted to endanger her.
Jaime just always wanted to know her safe, however much of a fallacy that is in the retrospective, since he failed miserably at the task.
"Why didn't you say that to her after the ball?" Tyrion rolls his eyes. "Then we wouldn't have this drama here presently, well, still a lot, but maybe less. At least she would likely hate you less."
"It wouldn't have changed a thing to her," Jaime argues. "I betrayed her that night, that's the thing. And sadly... that is something Cersei had not do with, really. I made the decision, even if I only did it in the honest belief that I would spare her something... Gods. I never should have donned the White."
"Yeah, if you had stuck to being a knight only, without the fancy cloak, we may not have the trouble now, but then again, it as you say, we don't know what Cersei would have done with Brienne, had you made her Lady of Casterly Rock," Tyrion grimaces. "Lannisters are really poison and venom. Maybe we should have snakes instead of lions for a banner."
"Maybe," Jaime exhales.
"So did you don the White only for Cersei?" Tyrion questions. "To make sure that you were off the market?"
"No... I also did it for her," Jaime admits.
"What was that supposed to do for Brienne?" his younger brother asks.
"She looked up to me for living a knight's life. She wanted to be a knight for all her life, you know that, though she realised that she'd never rise above the state of a sword. We both wanted to be knights, and at some point she wanted it for me as much as I wanted it for myself, too. She never wanted me to be anything but this and… I wanted to be this, to be more like the man she wanted… the one man she deserved, but I am… not good enough for her. I mean her really no good, Tyrion. You've witnessed it first-hand. Because of me, her life was destroyed, because Cersei saw a rival in her all this time," Jaime insists. "Maybe I should have just let her marry Lord Styde. I don't know."
"A band of bastard children came to King's Landing and cut off his tongue, didn't you hear?" Tyrion chuckles softly.
"His bastards took revenge on him?" Jaime blinks at him.
"Yes! Well, not all of them, but a few that ended up in King's Landing as servants. They gathered, and when they caught him entering one of the Silk Street's establishments, they had easy play," Tyrion shrugs.
"Weren't they charged for it?" Jaime questions.
"Who would? Half of the people in the Silk Street, at best, don't work there on their own will. They are slaves, too. One could say that they hold a kind of personal connection and fondness for other slaves," Tyrion shrugs.
"There are no slaves in King's Landing," Jaime argues.
"Tell that the servants, whores, and maids," Tyrion huffs.
"True again, but well, that serves him right, I guess," Jaime rolls his shoulders.
"Well, even if I managed to somehow bypass a marriage to Brienne without Father getting my head in turn, she will still try to sell herself cheap in exchange for all her sapphires, that is unless I tell her the truth, of course, and given that she believes my words," Tyrion sighs.
"She should have gone with what I said to her, by the Gods," Jaime grunts.
"What did you say to her?" Tyrion cranes his neck.
"That she didn't have to marry a nobleman to secure her lands. I told her that she only needed someone to make her a child, and that it could be anybody," Jaime replies. Tyrion's eyes open wide. He suddenly hops off his chair, walks up to Jaime and hits him in the knee hard enough to make him bellow once, "What was that for?!"
"That's not what you say to a girl at all, you dull boar!" Tyrion tells him angrily. "The least Brienne."
"I said it to her, not knowing of the conspiracy, and I said it to her because I thought that she didn't have to sell herself that cheap. She only needed an heir back then, something that any man whose seed is not dried out yet can deliver with ease, even a Kingslayer…," Jaime mutters, as another pang of pain explodes in his knee. "Ow! Stop that already."
"Did you seriously suggest to Brienne that you could just make her a child in the belly?! How dense can a man be?!" Tyrion looks at him. "And how did Brienne not take off that night already, after she kicked you in the crotch for it?"
"She knows how I meant it. I offered it because I thought that this would spare her the marriage to some shady person. I thought that once she had an heir, she'd be fine. She could have gotten the child legitimised by Robert, I would have helped convince him, had it come to it, and she wouldn't have been forced to marry whoever," Jaime argues. "And she spew it back into my face after the ball anyways, because she thought that I did it all because I didn't want to let her go…"
"Which is apparently the truth?" Tyrion huffs. Jaime rolls his eyes, choosing not to comment.
"I said it could be a complete nobody. I just… I just couldn't bear the thought that she sold herself cheap. How was I supposed to know that there would be a low below that low?" Jaime grunts. "And now there is nothing I can do anymore. And I have to fear that you fall victim to this the same way she will. This is one nightmarish reality the Gods forced us into."
"Say that again," Tyrion blinks at him.
"Say what again?" Jaime blinks at him. "That this reality is a nightmare or that there is a low below the low?"
"No, the first part," Tyrion gestures wildly.
"I said to her that she could bed or wed a complete nobody, that it didn't really matter, because…," Jaime means to go on, but he is cut off by Tyrion tapping against his thigh repeatedly, "By the Gods!"
"What now?" Jaime frowns, perplex.
"You may have said something smart for once, something incredibly smart. Maybe some comet will hit the ground now, or this is the foreshadowing for the apocalypse. By the Seven," Tyrion says, turning around on the back of the heel once.
"Huh?" Jaime tilts his head at him.
"That might be the way at last. Ha!" Tyrion claps his hands together. "That I didn't think of it!"
"Tyrion, talk to me," Jaime demands. "I don't understand your thoughts unless you speak them out loud."
"Just like in the old tales, just like in Brienne's stories. Oh I love stories for that. Maybe we live in one after all," Tyrion grins, drawing closer to his brother as he starts to spin a new tale, or so it seems.
Presently, Tyrion and Jaime hold wooden cups in their hands, balancing them against the ship rocking back and forth in the tide.
"I'd say cheers to a first success," Tyrion says, raising his cup to his brother, who returns slightly, lost in thought. The younger man takes a sip from his drink. Thank the Gods that their father didn't ban the wine from the ship before they sailed, or else this voyage would be much more of a challenge for the youngest brother.
"Did you really have to sprinkle that stuff on Cersei's dress before we went? Don't you think that's a little childish to give her a rash?" Jaime grimaces, thinking back to Tyrion's immature glee when he presented the bottle to his older brother, stating that some tricks never grow old.
"Childish maybe, but I have to take my small victories. We don't know if we will have a grand victory after all. For that, too much is still up in the air and out of reach," Tyrion shrugs. "And in any case, you can say all you want, but I see that small grin tugging at your lips the same way."
"Fine," Jaime rolls his eyes, sipping more of his wine.
"Well, but these are all successes in small, which don't imply our overall victory by any means. I can't say for certain that things will pan out for you especially. I am rather optimistic about Pod, Steph, and myself, but you?" Tyrion makes a face.
He knows it was and still is beyond risky. Tyrion usually doesn't like to walk into a situation blindfolded, but that is what they do.
While the idea to have Pod, Steph, and Jaime act as the three men supposed to be sent with him by donning thier clothes, proved to be good enough, those were all small things to handle in King's Landing that won't do much once they are in Tarth.
Not to mention that Cersei might still work some evil kind of magic even from across the other shore. One can never know.
"That's what's going through my mind, too," Jaime exhales.
"Do you think you are ready?" Tyrion asks.
"I wouldn't be here if I wasn't," Jaime shrugs. "Once I set my mind on something, I don't let go easily. You should know."
"Yeah, sometimes you are more of a bloodhound than a lion," Tyrion chuckles softly.
"Hm, might be," Jaime shrugs. "Dogs are loyal. I would like that attribute a lot."
"Am I the only one who has to think back to The Knight, the Devil, and the Beggar?" Tyrion grimaces.
"That story seemingly became our life much realer than I would like it to be at times," Jaime grimaces. "And that everyone dies in the end is not really making me optimistic."
"We all die in the end. That is what unites us humans," Tyrion shrugs.
"You are morbid," Jaime grunts, taking a sip of his wine.
"Realistic," Tyrion argues. "Mixed with a bit of dream, I must admit. I mean, death has this epic moment of redemption, doesn't it? Washing us free of our sins? I always found that thought quite nice."
"That'd be nice indeed," Jaime exhales. "Though I don't fancy the first part."
"Oh well, it depends on the death you choose," Tyrion argues.
"That is up to our choice?" Jaime chuckles softly.
"If we take the sword into our own hands, then yes, then even the devil can't get in-between," Tyrion shrugs. "As Ser Gabriel taught us."
"Cheers to that," Jaime says, raising his cup. Tyrion clinks his cup against his and both drink as the black waves crush outside, and the wind moves them forward, further into the shadows of the night, a sole star shining in the distance.