Stark Raving Mad

by Ellen Fitzwilliam Brandybuck

Robb honors a marriage alliance and takes the undesired Sascha Frey as his wife. Arya and Gendry face new battles as expectant parents. Tyrion and Sansa explore what it means to be allies in more than name. Jorah teams with an alluring old friend. Sandor is forced to protect a woman who should be "extinct" and Jamie is given a chance at a future he doesn't deserve with Brienne.

33. A Most Peculiar Proposition(BJ)

Thank you for your continued support and interest. As you can tell, there are only a few more storylines to bring to a close and I'm thinking this particular storyline-a personal favorite-will merit more than one chapter. You're welcome. Please feel free to leave a review of what you've liked, disliked, and what you'd yet like to see before this is done. I'm actually the type of write to go back and edit things if there seems to be enough fanbase to do so. In any case, on with the story and cheers!

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A Most Peculiar Proposition: Brienne

Even facedown in the middle of the street, Brienne would recognize the form of Jamie Lannister anywhere. She had been too far away to prevent the fall of the obviously inebriated man when she'd first spotted him precariously leaning out the door of the local tavern. However, the strides she'd taken to cover ground between herself and his fallen body had been quick, even with the folds of her ankle-length sailor's coat brushing against her nearly knee-high sailing boots. Brienne hadn't bothered changing from her sailing vestments before heading towards the council at the Great Hall where Gendry and others awaited the representatives of all parties that would be affected by his imminent decision for or against joining the rest of southern Westeros in this new government. She'd only managed to spot Jamie while stopped at one of the food vendors. Though the voyage from the Sapphire Isles was not long and did not require hardtack or ale rations, a chance for freshly baked bread and a hearty slice of local cheese was always hard to pass on when she came through the Stormlands. A commotion coming from the tavern had been what prompted her turn and it had been then that Jamie emerged from the tavern, swayed, and then fell face-first into the dust of the road.

A small gathering of tavern-goers congregated at the door by the time Brienne was kneeling by Jamie's side. She looked up to see the tavern keeper pushing through them all to stare down at Jamie and now herself.

"Do you know this man?" the tavern keeper's voice held an edge of disdain Brienne had grown accustomed to hearing when people spoke of Jamie, either to his face or behind it.

"Yes," Brienne inwardly winced when, as she turned Jamie onto his back, she took note of his bloodied nose, most likely busted from the fall impact, "what of it?"

"He tried to pay me with this," the tavern keeper held out the golden hand Brienne had always loathed, "before I could tell him that it was too much and that I had no interest in smelting down some damned hand, he'd taken off to the door and then, well, this." The tavern keeper looked between Brienne and Jamie once more before he shrugged, "He owes me six copper pennies."

Brienne gaped and asked before she could stop herself, "He drank six pennies worth?"

"Aye, that would be why he's facedown in the street. I'm not his mother nor his nursemaid. So long as I'm paid, I don't care how much a man drinks." The tavern keeper shifted the golden hand in his grip. "'sides, the way he came into the tavern, he looked like he needed a few drinks. Anyways, you going to settle up his debt?" Brienne nodded and immediately reached for her coin purse. "And take this nonsense," the tavern keeper exchanged the hand for coins, "I've no use for it."

Brienne was surprised that the tavern keeper had even bothered with trying to return something of so much worth but perhaps, with the way Gendry was running the Stormlands, such ethical acts were not uncommon. It had not taken long being the Baratheon's neighbor to garner respect and admiration for the young lord, and also for his lady, the young now mother, Arya. Neither Brienne nor her late father had been tempted to join this new government of Westeros and had both been happy to find that their closest Westeros mainland neighbor was equally uninterested. With this new round of discussion coming at hand, however, Brienne had felt disquieted. Tyrion Lannister had been to the Stormlands once before to try to convince Gendry to switch loyalties from self-sufficiency to being a part of the cogs of Westeros and up until just moments before, Brienne had expected the silver-tongued Lannister to return. It seemed, however, he'd sent his brother in his stead. Of her memories of Jamie and his lack of interest in politics, Brienne no longer felt the same disquiet that she'd felt before.

"For a few more pennies," Brienne called to the tavern keeper before he could move away, "I could use some help loading him onto a cart if you have one you could spare just long enough for me to get him back to my ship."

The tavern keeper called a name, and soon enough, a young lad, about the size Brienne remembered Gendry being when she'd first met him, came out and assisted her in dragging Jamie over to a well-used cart. It took both of them to secure the cart and toss Jamie into it, all the while Jamie snored and grunted but did not awaken. The lad wheeled the cart while Brienne led the way back to the docks. It was easier to take him to her ship than to the Great Hall, partially due to distance—they were much closer to the docks—and also because she seriously doubted Jamie had meant to get blackout drunk and would not particularly desire to be seen by all the representatives in this state.

Once they had Jamie transferred over to her first mate and the ship's boy, the tavern keeper's boy and cart disappeared back into town and Brienne was left to follow after her swaying crew as they dragged the dead weight of Jamie across the deck and towards her cabin. Brienne didn't need to tell her first mate what to do next, that was why he was first mate after all, and she was left alone with Jamie but a few moments before he came back with a pitcher of freshwater, a basin and rag, and some "wake up juice" the ship's cook often kept onboard for when members of the crew came back from shore leave a might too drunk still for work.

"Send Crassus on up to the Great Hall and inform them that I will be delayed in my arrival at the meeting." Brienne reached for Jamie's boots and set about loosening them enough to jerk them off. She spoke to her first mate over her shoulder as she worked, "If they insist they can't continue without me, have Crassus inform them that the Sapphire Islands still stand with their original decision under Lord Tarth: we will not join this new government."

"Yes, Lady Tarth."

Brienne paused in her ministrations and allowed the alien nature of her new title to wash over her. She'd grown so accustomed to answering to Ser that when her father had passed on only months before and she'd inherited the title Lady of the Sapphire Islands, the new Evenstar, Lady of Evenfall, head of House Tarth, Brienne hadn't quite known what to do. In her years of acquaintance with Jamie before she'd always scoffed at the title of Lady and now she could not escape it. It was only fitting that they would call her Lady, as they had called her father Lord, and as much as Brienne preferred Ser to Lady, her days of knighting had come to an end the day she'd laid her father to rest with their ancestors.

"What's become of you?" Brienne whispered to the air over Jamie's slumbering body. He looked older, as she was sure she did as well, but it seemed the four years of weathering done to his body was different entirely than her own sea air and sun exposure. Even without sarcasm laden words and a pain-riddled voice ringing in her ears, Brienne could see that in the years since they'd last fought side-by-side, Jamie had continued to fight his own private battles, and every one of the battles was etched into the lines of his face and in the aging skin on his arms and hands. Yes, there was still the handsome Jamie Lannister lurking in the visage lying before her, but there was also a man eaten up with pain and disappointment. "What's become of you, Jamie?"

Brienne shuddered at the sound of his name on her own lips. She shook herself from the silly stupor she'd fallen into and quickly set about dislodging Jamie's soiled surcoat and loosening the ties of his shirt beneath his Lannister lion embellished tunic. Had he not decided to take a swim in the dirt of the road, the red and gold of his surcoat and tunic would still look fine but as it was, the red had taken on a nearly brown color and the gold looked more brassy. Brienne shook her head at her old friend—was that what she'd begun to call him?—as she poured some water into the basin and carefully cleaned up the dried blood and dust from his bearded face and neck. He still didn't wake but it seemed he was aware of someone helping him as he'd begun to stir in his sleep and turn his head into her touch when she stroked the dampened cloth down his skin.

Finished with his face and neck, Brienne decided to postpone the awakening process a bit longer, and picked up Jamie's hand and cleaned away the dirt that had coated it as well. As she worked, her brain took her on a journey through the past, recalling the heights and depths of her relationship with the tumultuous man before her. They'd gone from enemies—and yes there had been a time that if ordered to Brienne would've taken Jamie's life without a second thought—to makeshift allies at the hands of Bolton and his men—and this had been where Jamie had lost his hand, partially in defense of Brienne but mostly in defiance to Bolton—and from makeshift allies they'd somehow morphed into companions, one as much in need of the other when it came to fighting and survival—this compounded all the more at the loss of Jamie's family, his…lover sister, and seemingly his future as a Lannister—and from companions, they'd made a transition to kindred spirits, if not friends, on their travels back north with the Dothraki before the last stand against the White Walkers and the Night King.

It was after the last battle, in the grey area of picking up the pieces of reality and life now that imminent death for all had been averted, that Brienne had felt the beginnings of another shift between them. But what else was there for the likes of them? He, a one-armed former kingslayer without a home and nearly without family, and she a female knight of little beauty and no interest in the more domestic life that was oft required of females? She'd never come to a conclusive answer before she'd received word from her father of his ill health and she'd felt it necessary to return home. She'd fulfilled her oath to the Starks, Lady Stark, Lady Sansa, and most of all Lady Sascha and Lord Robb, and had not felt a need to renew her oath or remain, not now that family loyalty had come to call.

Their parting had been stunted, awkward, and damned difficult. Neither of them were particularly good at words with one another even in the best of times and only let the truth of their feelings fly when angry at one another. And though they often, without meaning to, sought each other out when at gatherings or dinners, if only to stand beside or sit nearby, they rarely directly touched one another. Yet, at their last parting, Jamie had been the one to pull Brienne into a firm embrace. His arms had been stiff and he'd held onto her even after what she believed to be the appropriate amount of time for an embrace between friends. To this day, Brienne wasn't sure if, as he'd begun to pull away, if he'd briefly pressed his lips to her head. Regardless, he'd remained standing rooted to the same spot they'd embraced until she'd been unable to see him anymore—and she had from time to time glanced back to see him as her mount took her further away.

In the years since Brienne had spared only the moments between wakefulness and sleep to think on Jamie Lannister and the question of what they were and what they could have become. She'd been so consumed with aiding her father and learning from him how to run the Islands, ad then consolidating power to herself as Lord Selwyn began to step further back from his duties and relinquish them to her. There was also learning the diplomacy required to remain separate but not at war with the new government in Westeros, and increasing the relationship with their neighbors to the east in Essos, and even authorizing voyages of discovery south to see if there was anything to be gained from the wilds in the lands below them. Brienne had not been idle in the years since the battle and her duties had only increased further now that her father was truly gone and she was all that was left of the direct line of House Tarth. Now she had the added burden of deciding if she wanted to adopt an heir to carry on the family name or if she, by the gods, dared to attempt to go a more traditional route and take a husband and mother a child of her own.

Brienne set aside the rag and water basin. There was no use in mooning and delaying further. The meeting at the Great Hall would most likely not wait for either of them, and Brienne got the feeling that Tyrion had instructed Jamie to as eloquently as possible make another plea to the Baratheons. It would be unethical to keep him "hostage" and prevent him from fulfilling his duties. Though Brienne smirked, the idea was momentarily relished in her heart.

Cupping a hand behind Jamie's head, she raised him just enough to press the glass of "wake up juice" to his lips. Much of it trickled down his cheeks and neck, but enough got into his mouth and down his throat to commence a fit of sputtering and coughing. Instead of switching out for water, Brienne forced a few more gulps of the elixir of life/death down his throat before taking pity on the man and finally giving him the refreshment of fresh water. His formerly flailing hand and stump came to rest on her forearm as she held the glass to his lips and he cradled it against him as if by letting go he'd fall to his death or something of equal measure. Brienne tried not to overthink what it felt like to have Jamie nearly sprawled across her lap with his hands holding her arm to keep her closeby. Instead, she began to think through what her first words were going to be, not wanting to sound too much an idiot.

Jamie's continued coughs had Brienne setting aside the glass and grabbing hold of the rag. She used it to wipe up his face and neck and hold it over his mouth as he continued to cough and sputter. Only once he began to breathe normally, and his body began to relax again, did Brienne set aside the rag and extracted herself from underneath his shoulders.

"Where am I?" Jamie's voice was hoarse not only from the coughing but also from the might that was the "wake up juice."

"You are in my cabin," Brienne didn't look at Jamie as she spoke, nearly afraid to, and instead busied herself with cleaning up the mess his flailing had made. She thought she heard him gasp but didn't give in to the temptation to turn around to see. "I found you on the street, passed out from drinking. You apparently had tried to pay the tavern keeper with your golden hand," Brienne reached for her coat that she'd tossed onto the small chair she kept near her desk and cot. She finally turned around to face him only after she held his golden hand. His eyes were wide with disbelief and he was cradling his stump with his good hand over his heart. "I settled up your debt, you owe me six pennies by the by, and carted your drunken body to my ship."

"Ship?" Jamie blinked and began to shake his head but then stopped and pressed his good hand against his head, "Is that why the world is spinning?"

Brienne smirked, "That and the fact that you drank six pennies worth at the tavern."

"Is it really," Jamie opened his eyes and gazed once more at Brienne, "is it really you?"

"Yes," Brienne raised her arms in what must look an awkward gesture before dropping them once more to her sides, "it is really me, and we are both really in the Stormlands and we are both really late to the meeting we are supposed to be having with Gendry Baratheon."

Jamie let out a slew of curses under his breath as he struggled to sit up. Waiting until it was obvious he needed assistance, Brienne moved forward and helped him to sit up and lean against the wall of her cabin. She began to draw back again when Jamie's good hand reached out and took hold of the ends of her hair. She'd grown it out to reach her shoulders, finding that a longer cut made it easier to bind up when working on the ship or inspecting the fisheries and fields around the islands, and having it longer meant it was also easier to pass as a true Lady when such a guise was necessary.

"You've grown out your hair." Jamie still had yet to relinquish his hold of her hair, and so Brienne continued to lean over him. His eyes traveled from her hair to her face and Brienne felt the warmth of a blush creeping up her neck and reaching her cheeks before she could stop it. "I like it." There was no stopping the blush now and Brienne was certain her whole face was aflame with it. She swatted Jamie's hand from her hair and stood straight again.

"It is easier to bind up when I'm working, and it comes in handy when I have to have official meetings at the Keep." Jamie's expression held an unspoken question and Brienne nodded. "I have inherited the Isles. My father passed on some months back."

"I am sorry for your loss, Brienne." It seemed both Jamie and Brienne hesitated a moment at the mentioning of her name. "And thank you," it was Brienne's turn to raise an eyebrow in question, "my nose is aching, and yet I find no blood, I can only assume that you not only paid my debt and carted my arse here, but you also cleaned me up." He looked down at his bare feet and wiggled his toes. "I'm glad I woke when I did or else I'd be without my honor entirely it seems."

Brienne snorted and rolled her eyes as she turned to retrieve her coat.

"I cannot tell you," the wistful tone of Jamie's voice had her turning back towards him, "how much I've missed hearing your disdain for my jokes." Jamie's face was sincere, and it was his sincerity that had Brienne blushing again and looking away, trying to focus on anything that was not Jamie's face. Her eyes landed on his boots, which she grabbed hastily, and shoved towards his face.

"If you're feeling up to it, you can walk with me to the Great Hall. I had my ship's boy run on ahead of me to let them know of my delay. Though," she gave Jamie's figure a once over, "not the reason for the delay."

Jamie held his stump over his heart and gave Brienne a grin, "My reputation hath doth been saved by Ser Brienne of Tarth. My thanks, noble Lady." Jamie bowed his head then looked up through his once again shaggy hair and winked at her. Brienne rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest as she waited for Jamie to get himself situated. "I know my brother gave me plenty to say to Baratheon on the great advantages of joining the rest of Westeros," Jamie struggled a bit but managed to get his boots on and stood, "however I can't seem to remember a damned bit of it."

"Truly?" Brienne frowned at him. "Or you just can't be bothered to attempt to win over Baratheon when it is obvious he has no intention of joining?"

"I've learned how to pick my battles and choose winning sides after so many years of failing at both." Jamie frowned at the loose ties of his shirt then looked over to Brienne. "Since you disheveled me, would you be a dear and put me back together?"

Brienne was moving towards him to help even as she retorted, "How did you manage to get dressed this morning before you decided to drink yourself into darkness and pass out in a heap on the road?"

Brienne's fingers were busying tightening and retying his stays, but she hesitated and stopped altogether when Jamie's good hand reached out and again touched the ends of her hair and then, more startlingly, his fingers boldly traced over her jawline before his hand came down to rest on her shoulder. They stood in silence then, her wide eyes of confused caution and his heavy-lidded eyes of…something, staring at one another as if both were too…something to break the silence.

"I missed you, Brienne," Jamie was the first to break the silence, a natural smile coming across his lips as his hand gave another squeeze on her shoulder before letting go and dropping to his side. "It is so good to see you again."

Brienne nodded and quickly finished tying up his shirt and assisted in getting his surcoat back on as well. She smoothed out the wrinkles over his shoulders and tightened the collar and would've done more to help him look more aright, but the knowing smirk on Jamie's face had her dropping her hands, snorting at his look, and leading the way from her cabin.

Getting down the gangplank was a might iffy for Jamie but they managed it and it took him a bit longer to get rid of his "sea legs" as well but soon enough, they were walking at a slower than usual pace for Brienne back towards to the Great Hall. Walking beside Jamie now, without her sword and armor that he'd given her, felt almost like a betrayal and she found herself sputtering out the reasons why she was attired more like a sailor than as the knight he'd known her to be. She told him of all the work she and her father had been about in the Sapphire Islands before his passing, of her work with her crews to establish trade lanes to Essos and Westeros, and she even told him about the little known voyages southward. Brienne basically told him more in the time it took to walk from the docks to the Great Hall than she'd ever told him before in their entire acquaintance and she hadn't a clue why the little feeling of betrayal at not carrying his gifts had her saying all these things. She even very nearly told him about her current dilemma of deciding for or against adoption or taking a husband but was thankfully saved from herself by Jamie.

"It seems that in the years since we last saw each other, you found your tongue, and I lost my ability to keep up with you."

Brienne looked at their feet and at the road on which they'd traveled, "We've kept pace without trouble-"

"I meant," Jamie interrupted with a smile, "mental pace. Gods Brienne, but you've been damned busy over the years. Here you are taking over islands and expanding your father's power, and I've," Jamie shook his head and Brienne saw the dark cloud of self-hatred settle over Jamie's head, "I've done fuck all at Casterly Rock."

They weren't yet inside the Great Hall, and Brienne knew better than to encourage Jamie to go inside to talk to others whilst he was in this sort of mood. Instead of allowing him to move across the drawbridge into the keep, she turned him aside and basically tossed him against the wall of one of the smithies that operated just outside the keep. Jamie looked only marginally surprised at her roughness and remained silent for but a moment more before he heaved a heavy sigh and let out a bit of the darkness she'd noted in the lines of his face.

"I live there, but I don't belong there. I don't belong anywhere, not anymore. They allow me to live with them because of our blood ties but if it weren't for that I'd be out on my arse and I wouldn't blame them. I act as a herald to my brother and a sometimes nursemaid to my good sister's children, of who I don't think she ever truly stopped hating me for what my family did to her father. And when Tyrion doesn't need me to run errands like a squire or play games by the fire, and my good sister doesn't need me to watch the children while she runs the household, I have fuck to do except think of every mistake I've ever made, every person I've ever loved and lost," Jamie's eyes darted towards Brienne's face and she steeled herself against the memory of his love for his sister, "and contemplate ending it."

Brienne frowned, "Ending it? You mean, take your own life?"

"Not quite so dramatic as that," Jamie sighed and leaned his head against the wooden wall behind him, "but getting up one morning, stealing a horse—because none belong to me—and riding out into anonymity and imminent death. Though the Lannister name has been whitewashed a bit in the years since the War, I am the last of the unlikeable Lannister's and know that anyone with an itchy hand would be happy to take a few whacks at me with anything nearby that could be constituted as a weapon."

Brienne didn't bother asking him about what the family would think of this. His words had been valid and Brienne didn't have to be a spy at Casterly Rock to know it. Up until her second pregnancy and the complications it brought, Arya had visited Brienne often on the Isles, and Brienne too had come and still came as often as she was able to Stormsend. Inevitably, in those hours of training or talking—it depended on the day which Arya preferred or could handle—Arya would divulge to Brienne the state of her family's affairs. Mostly, the information was positive, especially in regards to the Starks remaining in the north, but Brienne could hear between the words whenever Arya's tales regarding the Lannister's. Though Arya had eventually gotten over her own hatred toward Jamie Lannister, mostly because her brother and good sister had modeled the way, it seemed true that Sansa still bore little affection for Jamie. And what more, in the more recent months Lady Stark had remained at Casterly Rock and Brienne inwardly winced at what the meals must be like now. It was perhaps because of this that Tyrion had decided to send Jamie to this council meeting. For fear of Lady Stark killing Jamie, or Jamie killing Lady Stark, Brienne wasn't certain, but she was certain it was connected to his being here nonetheless.

Brienne clapped her hand on Jamie's shoulder, surprising them both at her initiation, and gave him a gentle shake. "Well, before you give in to this temptation, let us get this meeting over with." She turned and began to walk towards the Great Hall, stopping only when she didn't' hear and feel Jamie by her side. She looked over her shoulder at his still glowering face. With a sigh and added, "We have much more to discuss, Jamie Lannister, and we can do so over a hot meal. After we've done our duties."

She thought she heard him grumble a few obscenities in connection to the word duty but couldn't be certain. Brienne was just happy that he was no longer wallowing in self-pity, and they could both get this over with. She wasn't certain what they were going to talk about after the meeting, her mentioning it had mostly been a ploy, but there was still that question of what they were and what they could become. It was a question she had no intention of asking and yet it still haunted her with every step she took by Jamie's side.

A Most Peculiar Proposition: Jamie

Well, the council meeting hadn't been nearly as much of a shit show as he'd expected, but they'd still gone terribly. The majority of the members hated Jamie for his past deeds and now hated him for his brother's involvement with the government controlling most of Westeros. It seemed he was damned for whom he was and damned for who his brother was. At least the latter was a new feeling and gave Jamie only a marginal feeling of self-justification. If it hadn't been for Gendry, and also Brienne, demanding silence multiple times and calling to order the other members, Jamie never would've been able to spit out the stupid reasons Tyrion had given him to memorize for why they should all join the circus that was Westeros. Jamie thought the whole government thing a ludicrous notion and guestimated that it would last perhaps another five to ten years at most but though he was not a politician, he'd worked with enough people from all walks of life to know that in the end, the people wanted a strong centralized figurehead to look up to, or spit upon. Everyone wanted a god on Westeros to hide behind or sacrifice depending on the day and this new government did not offer up such a thing.

Jamie pulled himself out of his thoughts at the sound of approaching footsteps. It was Gendry Baratheon, holding two goblets, with a neutral expression on his face. The council had been adjourned for a brief recess during which each member could decide for themselves what they wanted to do now that Jamie's presentation was over. Brienne had left to talk with the rest of the islanders, leaving Jamie with Gendry. The young man had grown into his father's name, though having a more handsome and healthy bearing than his father had ever had, but as much a commanding presence as Robert. The difference for Jamie was that he'd hated Robert Baratheon with all his soul for the misery he'd put Cersei through, and Jamie respected Gendry Baratheon for all the sacrifices he'd made along the way to be a man of the people and a noble leader.

Jamie accepted the goblet and sipped. It was water. He gave Gendry a look, and the younger man smiled.

"Brienne mentioned, after some duress, that the delay had something to do with a tavern. I thought perhaps a brief reprieve from ale might do us both some good." Gendry slapped a hand on his belly, still mostly flat but having a little more roundedness to it than when Jamie had last seen him. "I am not getting any younger, and I still have years to go in which I need to keep up with my children, and especially my wife."

"Yes," Jamie took a long drink of water, "how is the Lady Baratheon doing?"

He listened politely, and with some actual interest, as Gendry told him of all the comings and goings of the Baratheon household. It was refreshing, really it was, to hear of a happy domestic life. He knew that Sansa and Tyrion would be happier without his presence and ever since sobering on Brienne's ship and talking to her before the meeting, Jamie was more convinced than ever that he would not return to Casterly Rock. At least not to live. Maybe to visit on holidays—his brother's children were adorable after all.

"Jamie," Gendry calling his voice again brought Jamie out of his thoughts, "what are you going to do after this?"

Jamie wondered if Gendry was a mind reader or if it was mere curiosity that had Gendry asking. He shrugged and took to shifting the water in his goblet, "Well, I'll certainly write a letter to Tyrion informing him of the failure of this meeting."

"We don't know-" Jamie silenced Gendry with a look. Gendry smiled, "Well, at least we went through the proper order of things to make it look like you tried."

"Yes, and that you for that, I suppose. It was a nice excuse to get out of the Rock and into the world again." Jamie took in a deep breath and slowly let it out. He allowed his eyes to wander over the view of the coastline, the dramatic rocks crashing into the sea, or was it the other way around. He continued to speak almost without realizing it, "I don't know where I'll go after this. I am no longer a member of the Kingsguard, I am no longer in line to inherit Casterly Rock, not that I ever wanted to cursed place, and I am entirely without purpose and place." Jamie glanced at Gendry out of his peripherals, "Are you in need of a court jester? I feel like my life is a joke enough that I could fulfill that role splendidly."

Gendry shook his head, a smile touching his face momentarily. He too, turned to look out over the coastline and remained silent for a moment. The sound of the ways on the shore and gulls in the air was soothing. Gendry only broke the silence when they first heard the voices of the islanders returning, Brienne's voice ringing out clearest amongst them.

"Have you thought about marriage?"

Jamie nearly dropped the goblet, "Are you fucking mad? Who the fuck would want to marry me?"

"You still have your name and all the pros and cons of it, and you still have the courtly upbringing that passes you off as landed nobility. You no longer have the vows of chastity for the Kingsguard holding you back and at least for those outside of the new Westeros, there may be some who would look upon a marriage alliance with you as a benefit. Perhaps by marrying you, they could protect their land and their people from your brother and the other members of the new government." Gendry shrugged at Jamie's look of incredulity. "Or perhaps," the islanders came into the room and Gendry finished speaking in a whisper that left Jamie reeling, "there may be one who would marry you for love."

Jamie's eyes immediately, and without preemptive thought, sought out the person most likely to fit Gendry's description. He found Brienne standing across the room, holding the door open for the other islanders, a pleasant smile on her face as she walked and talked with ease amongst her peers. She had blossomed where he had withered. She'd always been a formidable fighter and the most deserving of knighthood Jamie had ever known. Seeing her as a different kind of leader, taking on the role of her father, had Jamie reassessing his thoughts and feelings towards her.

They all sat down at the table and Jamie barely listened as each member took turns laying out their reasons for remaining outside of the new Westeros government. Jamie only spoke when prompted to and was proud of himself for following along at all as his thoughts continued to careen elsewhere.

Ever since they'd celebrated living after the war with the dead, Jamie had felt dead. The brief reprieve from the pain of losing Cersei and his children had brought, the time he'd spent fighting alongside HER, had come to an end near to the moment of Brienne's departure. Jamie was an idiot, a fucking ass as his little brother liked to call him near every time they spoke these days, but he wasn't so far up his own arse of stupidity to not recognize what he'd come to feel for Brienne of Tarth by the end of it all. Not that his startling realization had done him any good. He'd been a coward about it, fucked it up as usual, and she'd left back to her own duties and family. Jamie had found slight comfort in the fact that she'd left him and at least he hadn't cocked it up so much that he'd left her. So yes, there was some comfort in that…that he found at the bottom of a trench of liquor.

They'd always been able to understand one another, even when they'd hated each other. And it truly had been hatred; Jamie didn't try to gloss over the truth of their shared past. There had been a time when he'd have slit Brienne's throat in order to run back to Cersei, and there had been a time when she'd have killed him as brutally out of loyalty to her oath. And that was the foundation upon which they'd begrudgingly built respect for one another. He'd recognized, fairly rapidly though without desiring to, the driven fortitude and belief in values that he'd once had reflected in her bearing. Of course, Jamie had never had it as an adult. No, that naive belief in good and moral truth had been in his childhood, before he and Cersei ever began their toxic cycle. Through their shared misery, Jamie had seen his own future in Brienne's face, at least the future he'd once desired for himself, and he'd felt a pull towards her that he'd never felt towards anyone. Not even Cersei. It was like a constant dissatisfaction, different from Cersei's certainly, but Jamie felt he could not be satisfied with any negative treatment towards Brienne, nor of her treatment towards herself. He didn't like the annoyance of this dissatisfaction and so had done everything possible to put her in a position that was finally satisfying for him so he could move on mentally from the conundrum that her presence presented.

But then…his views towards her had begun to shift after the loss of his hand and his family. No longer did he feel kinetic energy goading him to ignite ire in her and push her into a position Jamie felt she should be in—even if that position was as his adversary—instead her quiet but consistent presence at his side, without judgment and question, this had changed him. Jamie could vaguely remember babbling all sorts of curses at the world, at her, at the dragon queen, and himself in those first days after learning of their deaths. In a drunken stupor, one of those dark nights, Jamie had even attacked her. Brienne could have easily subdued him in the state he'd been in but she'd let him fight her until he'd been unable to move out of fatigue and grief. He still wasn't certain, Jamie's memory of the time was hazy, but he thought he'd even cried himself to sleep on her shoulder that night too—but he'd woken up in a hay pile outside the stables by himself the next morning and so still didn't know if he'd dreamt of the comfort she'd offered or if it had been truth.

By the time the dragon queen had demanded he be sent south, Jamie had decided that Brienne of Tarth was his friend. A friend that annoyed the hell out of him with her pushes and prompts to rise above his circumstances—most likely doing her best impression his own annoyance to her in the first days of their acquaintance—but certainly a friend. Jamie had known by then that no matter what happened, she would do her best to support him, and he would do the same for her. To have survived King's Landing and been ordered to accompany her back north with the Dothraki only fueled Jamie's respect and admiration for the woman.

She was a capable fighter, formidable really, and a fiercely loyal companion. But Brienne did have her faults and fears that kept her feet solidly on the level of the rest of humanity. Yet, Jamie had still found her near perfect. Perhaps it was the fact that she pushed back whenever he goaded her, she gave as good as she got, she did not cow in fear of him or any other man, but neither did she command attention or demand recognition. Brienne wore her values and beliefs on her sleeve and was unapologetic about it even as she encouraged those around her to see a better way to live a more dignified life. Jamie had at first felt condemned and judged in her presence, and then felt washed clean and desperate for more of her light, and in the end, had felt comfort and steady hope. But then she'd left and Jamie had believed that the comforting hope had gone with her.

To see her now, an equally capable and generous leader of men and women as the Lady of her house, had Jamie squirming in his seat. He could never hope to deserve her and was a fool to think that she'd ever think of him as anything other than a friend. He knew their friendship was reciprocated, but the question of whether or not she could feel anything other than friendship for him now haunted him. Gendry's suggestion only further irked Jamie. Did he really have the gall, after all, that he'd said and done to her, to ask for her hand in marriage? What would be the benefit for her? She didn't need him, especially not at he was now, and she'd not indicated that she'd even want him in that capacity.

"Well," Gendry stood, signaling that the meeting was truly over, "now that that's settled, I say we break the evening fast together before going our separate ways."

The other members agreed, but Jamie saw Brienne hesitate, her eyes darting towards his but a moment before she made excuses for herself from the evening meal and left the room. Jamie quickly sputtered out his own reasons and left without waiting for a more formal parting. He knew Gendry would understand, especially since he'd been the bastard to put the thought into Jamie's head in the first place. He caught up to Brienne just as she was about the leave the Great Hall.

"Where are we eating dinner?" At her feigned look of annoyance, Jamie added, "You did say we had much to discuss over dinner. So if we aren't eating here with the rest of them, where are we eating?"

"I would say the tavern, but I fear they may lock the door if they saw you coming again," Brienne shook her head, "there may be a few vendors still selling their wares at this time. We can pick up a few things on the way back to the ship that I'll use as a bribe to get the ship's cook to make us a meal."

Jamie nodded. They walked in companionable silence through the town, and Jamie did what he could to assist in carrying the said items Brienne found for bribery. It was less difficult to get onto the ship than it had been to get off earlier that day but it was still a nuisance and Jamie had nearly dropped the eggs Brienne had given him to safeguard. It was her look of "don't you dare" that had had Jamie overcoming the pulls of gravity and forcing himself upright and across the gangway to her side on the deck.

They were to dine her cabin, and though it was small Jamie found he liked the intimacy of their being alone together. And now that he wasn't sobering up from a drunken stupor, Jamie was able to take in more details of her living quarters. She had several papers and maps on her desk, another set of boots by the door, a few knickknacks that looked like they were repurposed gifts, now used to weight down the papers to they wouldn't slide around, and a single book that she had placed under her pillow on the cot. He hadn't noticed it before. When he picked up and read the title, he saw Brienne's cheeks redden with a blush.

"I never would've taken you for the type to read fanciful stories of far off places," Jamie put the book back before joining her at the table, "thought rather you'd prefer the histories."

"As I told you earlier, we are funding some exploratory expeditions southward. I've been reading as many books on the south as possible, those thought of as fact and those as fiction. I want my men to be prepared for whatever might come their way."

Jamie laughed, "Of course, you would read fairy tales in the hopes of better preparing your men for battle." Jamie poured them both a glass of ale. "Before you think I'm making fun of you," his words silenced whatever retort she'd been about to say, "understand I find it both endearing and innovative. Most would have merely scoffed at the fiction and stuck with the facts, or nothing at all. But I think we've both lived long enough to know that there is always a bit of fact within the fiction."

Brienne nodded. The meal began silently aside from Jamie's attempts to draw Brienne into a conversation on surface-level matters. It wasn't until they had both finished eating and were finishing off their ale as well that Jamie managed to ask a question that seemed to spark a response in Brienne.

"What's next for Brienne of Tarth?" He'd asked, eyeing her over the brim of his cup. "I mean you have the Isles, you're the head of your House, you command a merchant navy and a levy of men if need be, you're a diplomat, a Lady, and a leader. What else could you possibly need?"

Brienne narrowed her eyes at him, "What makes you think I need anything?"

"If you are still a bit like I remember you to be, I would wager that even with all that you've accomplished you are still thinking of something 'more' you feel you need to do to fully honor your father and your household and to further prove yourself worthy of the titles you've been given." At her eye dropping and chair shifting Jamie knew he'd hit the mark. "So out with it, what is it? You know you can trust me. I have no one to talk to and no place to go to spread the tales you may tell me."

At his words, Brienne looked up and he saw he nibble her lower lip, something she did when deep in thought and uncertain. Instead of goading her into speaking, Jamie remained silent. It was true what he'd said earlier; he had learned to pick his battles and choose winning sides better.

"Where are you going after this, Jamie?"

Jamie frowned, "Are you changing the subject?"

"No," Brienne sighed, "not really. But I am curious. If you're so miserable at Casterly Rock, and if they truly have so little need of you there, where do you plan to go now?"

"Perhaps I'll join our old friend Dondarrion and make use of myself policing a world that doesn't particularly want to be policed." At Brienne's look of disbelief, Jamie chuckled, "You're right, Dondarrion would throw me out. I haven't practiced with a sword in years and I doubt my well-timed insults would stop anyone these days."

"Really Jamie," Brienne knocked off the last of her ale and glared at him, her arms crossing over her chest, "be serious."

"I am being serious, Brienne. I have not a fucking clue. Aside from Tryion I have no family and as far as I can tell no one is desirous of my company so what would you suggest? Join up with the Watch in the north? I'm sure Lord Commander Snow would relish my return."

"Have you ever thought of the Isles?"

Jamie stuttered in thought and word at her question. "Pardon?"

"I mean, what do you think about coming with me back to the Isles?" Brienne straightened her back and squared her shoulders as she spoke as if readying herself for his rejection—which he had no intention of giving. "There is more to you than your sword skills. You're clever, good with figures, good with people, and are far more personable than I."

Jamie swallowed, "Are you recruiting me for a vocation?"

"Perhaps. Though I'm making efforts and am learning, I'm a damned awful diplomat. And I can't always travel to all the meetings with our trade partners that they would prefer and neither do I dictate the letters that would most likely get my people better offers. You're good at both. Talking and writing, and," Brienne blushed but pushed on, "flirting. You are charming where I am not and the people of Essos and Dorne flourish on charm."

"So you're wanting me to be your what, your Hand? Your steward?" Jamie followed Brienne's suit and finished off the rest of his ale. "I don't think any of your trade partners would care to do business with a Lannister. Though Essos is far, I'm certain the name carries baggage there as well."

Brienne was silent for longer than Jamie expected and he hadn't a clue what she was thinking, though he knew she was thinking and rapidly as she'd pulled her lower lip into her mouth and was nibbling again. He felt the room was warmer than it had been before and began to loosen the ties of his shirt, his surcoat already hanging on a peg by the door. He was tempted to kick off his boots as well, but refrained, for the moment, until Brienne voiced whatever the hell it was going on in her mind.

"You're right. Your reputation as a Lannister could perhaps do more harm than good depending on the circles." Jamie nodded and waved his good hand in the air between them. "However, my offer to have you join me and take up those responsibilities still stands."

Jamie frowned, "You just said it wouldn't work to have me work as your steward because of my reputation as a Lannister."

"Yes," Brienne's eyes darted around the room as they often did whenever she was trying to avoid looking at him, but when Jamie leaned forward and placed his elbows on the table her eyes fell back on him and Jamie saw a steely resilience on her gaze that had the hairs of his neck stand on end, "but there is a way for you to shed your reputation as a Lannister and find a new place in the Isles."

"And what might that be?"

Jamie would never have imagined her to say the words she was to say, though deep in his heart, he had known it would come to this and that it would happen this way. Nevertheless, her words had his world-rocking more than was possible even for sitting on a ship.

"Accept my proposal of marriage and take on my name."

"…the fuck?" At his blundering words, Brienne drew back, and Jamie quickly reached out his good hand and stayed her from standing up and leaving the table. "That was not a rejection, Brienne, that was my voiced confusion." He let go of her wrist and sat back down. "Did you just propose marriage to me?"

"Yes," Brienne was eyeing him with concern, "you haven't had that much ale so your memory shouldn't be influenced."

"No," Jamie chuckled, "but your words have." Again Brienne looked ready to retreat and again, Jamie had to lean forward and use tone of voice and body language to put her at ease, "I am not saying in a bad way, Brienne, but you have to understand my surprise. We haven't seen each other in four years and have met again under less-than-impressive circumstances. Aside from those qualities you've listed, which I don't as readily see in myself as you seem to, I have nothing to offer you that would be seen as desirable for marriage. I have no money, no land, no title, and if anything, I bring more hardship to a possible union between us than benefit. I have to wonder if the ale has gotten to you instead of me if anything."

Brienne frowned and Jamie knew he'd said something to piss her off, "You are far more capable than you give yourself credit, Jamie, and I'll to be the judge of whether or not you bring more hardship than benefit." She held up a fist and for a moment, Jamie thought she was to deck him with it but she instead began to count off reasons on her finger. "You are more diplomatic than I; you are more personable than I, and be it positive or negative, your ties with the Lannister lineage could come in handy. Beyond that, and to me, more importantly, you are my friend." At her own words, she seemed to have lost some steam and began to slump back in her chair, "Like it or not, Jamie, you are the only other person in this world I trust to have my best interests at heart. I know that for all your faults and fuckery," her curse had him startled, "you are a good man and would never seek to do me harm. You're safe."

"So," Jamie frowned, "you want to marry me for my abilities to aid your family and be your friend, and that's it? I'm safe, you say?" Jamie scoffed with self-disgust. "You have nothing to fear from the one-handed washed up has been, do you? No, don't worry Brienne, I won't lay a hand on you, even if I had one to spare. Your honor is safe with me." He stood up from the table so quickly the chair tumbled to the floor. He turned away to set it aright and so missed the look for pain on Brienne's face.

"That's not what-"

Jamie turned then, setting the chair at the table and leaning on is, "I'll marry you, Brienne. I'll take on your name and perform my responsibilities with all the gusto I can manage. I suppose I should thank you for the opportunity to remake myself into another man." He waved away the words she'd been about to say, "And don't worry, and I won't hold you back from finding physical satisfaction with anyone who suits your fancy. That's what a safe man is good for, isn't it?" He glanced around the room then glared at her, "Where am I to stay tonight?"

Brienne looked ready to argue with him but then she sighed and shook her head, "If you have no objection, I'll have the first mate bring in a hammock and you can sleep on the cot and I in the hammock." She looked ready to say more but then, at his look, she thought better of it and stood. "I believe there may have been a misunderstanding between us." He snorted and she again sighed. "But I thank you for your acceptance of my offer."

Only after she left to retrieve the hammock did Jamie let out the breath he'd been holding. He let the pain of self-disgust and anger wash over him. So she wanted him but only as a friend and ally but not as a man and lover? She'd made that much clear to him with her offer, and Jamie was not angry with her for it. Yes, he'd spoken in anger to her and she probably assumed he was angry with her over it, but in truth, he was angry at himself, at the man he'd become. For who would want someone like him, barely even a shadow of who he'd once been?

Jamie signed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He was determined to bring benefits to this alliance. He was thankful for the opportunity, though he'd said it earlier in disdain, and he didn't want to disappoint her. For it was true after all was said and done, she was his friend and he did want the best for her. He would have to content himself with being by her side for the rest of their lives in that capacity alone and leave the desire he had for intimacy with her for his dreams and fantasies.