Author's Note: I feel like I end up adding this disclaimer to every GoT story I write, but it's worth mentioning here that this fic is based on the television series and not the books. As such, it follows the show version of what happened between Tyrion and Tysha, which is why Jaime believes that no woman has ever truly loved Tyrion before.

Chapter Sixteen

Jaime glared at Tyrion, not the least bit happy about his brother's interference. He and Brienne had been sharing a moment, fleeting though it had been, and Tyrion had ruined it. Though, truth be told, Jaime knew it wouldn't have lasted much longer. Brienne would have turned away eventually, and he would have taken her rejection far too much to heart.

"What is it?" Jaime snapped, surprised by how petulant he sounded.

"Close the door. I'd like to talk."

"Must we really?"

"It's not about Brienne, I promise. It's about Queen Sansa."

Jaime stared down at Tyrion, wondering just what kind of trouble his brother was getting himself into. Although Brienne was certain that Sansa loved Tyrion just as much as Tyrion loved Sansa, Jaime wasn't so sure. Even though Sansa Stark had once been his sister-in-law, he scarcely knew her, but from what he'd seen on his last trip to Winterfell, she wasn't exactly the sentimental type. She was a hard, cold, calculating woman, much like Cersei, and Jaime feared she was going to break Tyrion's heart.

"All right," Jaime conceded, "but I don't want to hear a word about Brienne."

"Of course."

Jaime crossed the room and closed the chamber door before sitting back down at the table. As soon as he was settled, he said, "So, what is it?"

"Take a look at this." Tyrion leaned forward in his chair and slid a piece of parchment in front of Jaime. "I was up all night making it. It's a list of the pros and cons of each of the potential matches the northern lords have chosen for Sansa, and I'm afraid I've found them all lacking."

"Why are you showing me this?"

"Turn it over."

Jaime turned over the parchment and found a single name written on the other side: Tyrion Lannister. Beneath it was a long list of reasons why he was a terrible match for Sansa Stark. He was a dwarf, he was a murderer, he had no title, no land, he was almost a foot and a half shorter than her. The list went on and on and on. And then beside it, in a column all its own, was a single reason why he was a good match for the Queen in the North. All it said was: I love her.

Jaime's heart felt heavy in his chest, and he had to fight back a tear for his brother. Tyrion had had a difficult life. He'd been searching for love since the day he'd been born, and he'd only ever caught rare glimpses of it. As far as women were concerned, Tyrion had never truly captured anyone's heart. But maybe the gods had finally taken pity on him. Maybe, after so many years of searching, he had finally found love, even if he didn't know it yet.

"Well?" Tyrion asked after a long silence.

"Well, what?"

"Those are the choices, and I need to give Brienne an answer, sooner rather than later. And despite the fact that I am the smartest man in all of Westeros, I just can't seem to make a decision."

Jaime turned the parchment over so that the list Brienne had given Tyrion was once again visible. "If you were choosing for anyone but Sansa Stark, who would you choose?"

"Please don't ask me that."

"And why not?"

"Because I hate the answer."

Jaime's eyes scanned the parchment, trying to decide which of the names Sansa Stark would find the most desirable and which Tyrion would find the most objectionable. Although Jaime was only vaguely familiar with some of the names on the list, he read Tyrion's comments on each candidate and soon made his choice. He knew who he would match Sansa Stark with if his brother hadn't been in love with her. He wondered if Tyrion had made the same choice.

Jaime lifted his eyes from the parchment and looked at Tyrion again. "Gendry Baratheon?"

"Fuck."

Clearly, he'd chosen correctly.

Jaime put down the list. "What are you going to do?"

"Give Lady Brienne my answer. What else can I do?"

"Travel to Winterfell and confess your undying love? You can make it in less than a moonturn if you're traveling alone."

A cynical laugh escaped Tyrion's throat. "You don't seem to understand my situation, do you? Although I may be Hand of the King, I'm still little more than a prisoner here. Bran appointed me to this position as a punishment, as a way for me to do penance for all my many sins. I'm not free to leave. I never have been."

Jaime stared at Tyrion, disturbed by his reply. Although Tyrion had never spoken a single word against his new king, Jaime was troubled by the fact that Bran had made his brother a virtual prisoner in King's Landing. Jaime was already wary of everything Bran said and did, and this new information certainly didn't help matters.

"Can't you do your penance at Winterfell just as easily as you can do it here?" Jaime asked, trying to find a way to help Tyrion escape the trap he'd found himself in.

"I don't think that would be penance," Tyrion replied. "Just being in Sansa's presence would give me far too much joy. It wouldn't quite be a punishment anymore, would it?"

"If she married someone else, it would."

Tyrion's eyes fell to the parchment, and he fidgeted awkwardly in his chair. "Yes, that would be punishment indeed. But having to choose her husband is its own kind of punishment, or at least, having to consult on the matter. I wish Brienne hadn't asked me, wish I hadn't heard anything about it until after the deed was done."

Jaime's heart ached for Tyrion. Even if Sansa Stark did return his affections, it didn't mean that Bran would ever set Tyrion free or allow them to wed. All it meant was that Sansa would have to marry a man she didn't love, and Tyrion would have to stand idly by and watch it happen. It was a tragic situation, and Jaime wished there was something he could do about it. After all, at least one Lannister deserved to be happy, and Jaime knew it was never going to be him.

"Is there anything I can do?" Jaime asked. "Anything at all?"

"There is one thing," Tyrion said, raising his eyes to Jaime's again, "but you'll think I'm meddling if I ask, and I promised not to meddle anymore."

Jaime sighed, not sure that he wanted to hear it. "What is it?"

"I don't think I can talk to Brienne about this without betraying how I really feel—"

"Everyone already knows how you really feel."

"But the back of the list," Tyrion said, nodding toward the parchment. "It's one thing for everyone to know that I'm smitten with Sansa, but it's another thing entirely for me to openly admit the true depths of my feelings for her. Can you please give Brienne my answer, explain it to her as I've explained it there? Please?"

Jaime had no desire to hunt Brienne down and force her to listen to him again. He knew she didn't want to hear anything he had to say, regardless of the subject matter. But the mournful look in Tyrion's eyes was too much for Jaime to take. Tyrion was in pain. He felt worthless and ashamed, and he didn't want to bare his soul to anyone, least of all one of Sansa's closest confidants.

Despite his reservations, Jaime consented to Tyrion's request. "All right, I will speak to her on your behalf."

"Thank you," Tyrion said, his shoulders slumping in relief. "If there was some other way, I wouldn't even ask. But I fear that my pride has been wounded enough for one morning, and I don't think I could take much more."

Jaime picked up the parchment, perusing Tyrion's notes one more time, committing them to memory, before folding the paper in half. "What do I do if she wants this back?" Jaime asked, holding the list up between them. "All your secrets are clearly written on the back."

Tyrion plucked the list from Jaime's fingers and stuffed it in his pocket. "Tell her that I still have it. That I am keeping it for future reference."

Jaime nodded. "Fine. But if she wants it back, you'll have to deal with her, not me."

"Fair enough."

Jaime pushed his chair away from the table and stood, and Tyrion scrambled to his feet.

"Will I see you for dinner?" Tyrion asked. "I have a mountain of work waiting for me in my solar, but I should be free this evening."

"Of course. I will see you then."

Jaime offered Tyrion a reassuring smile before leaving the room and going in search of Brienne. He hadn't been back at the Red Keep long enough yet to have learned her routine, and he wasn't sure if he would find her in her chambers or out in the training yard. Although he didn't feel he had a right to just barge into the White Sword Tower without her approval, the sooner he found her and delivered Tyrion's message, the sooner he could get on with his life.

Jaime was halfway to the tower when he chanced upon Podrick.

"My lord," Podrick said politely as they both stopped in the corridor to greet each other.

"Ser Podrick."

"May I ask where you're headed, my lord?"

Podrick had always been an amiable fellow, even shy at times, but now, there was warning in his gaze and ice in his voice. Jaime didn't have to wonder what he had done to offend the lad. He had betrayed Podrick's lady, and for that, he knew the young knight might never forgive him.

"I am on a mission from Lord Tyrion," Jaime answered. "He has asked me to deliver a private message to Ser Brienne."

"I can deliver the message," Podrick said, holding out his hand as if waiting for Jaime to hand him a missive.

"I must deliver it personally, as per the Hand of the King."

Podrick snorted. "I wish Lord Tyrion would stop interfering in Lady Brienne's life. As much as I care for him—and believe me, I do—I will not allow either one of you to hurt her again. So, if you are headed to her chamber just to cause her more heartbreak—"

"No, of course not."

"Then why are you headed there? Really?"

Jaime sighed heavily. He had always liked Podrick, and it wounded him deeply to know that the boy now considered him the enemy. "I know why you're angry with me," Jaime said. "And I don't blame you in the least. If you had treated Brienne the way I have treated Brienne, I would feel the same way about you. But the fact of the matter is, she is the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard and I am the Master of War, and that means that she and I will have to deal with each other from time to time, even if none of us like it. Tyrion asked me to deliver a message to Ser Brienne regarding Queen Sansa. And since it is such a personal matter, I cannot leave the job to anyone else. I'm sure you understand."

"There are a lot of things I don't understand," Podrick replied. "Like why you left, or why you took advantage of Lady Brienne's affection for you and then broke her heart. How could you do that to her? After everything she did for you?"

Those were all very good questions, though Jaime didn't know how to answer them. It took him a moment to reply. "I know this may sound hard to believe, but my intentions were pure."

"I know I may be young, but I'm not stupid, so please, don't insult my intelligence. I know why you hurt her, because you're the same selfish, entitled knave you've always been. You left Brienne of Tarth—Brienne of Tarth!—for Cersei Lannister. How could you do such a thing?"

Jaime knew that he didn't owe anyone an explanation, least of all Podrick Payne, but he felt the need to explain himself anyway. He didn't want Podrick to hate him. They both cared about Brienne more than they cared about anyone else in the world. If there was one person who could understand why Jaime had done what he'd done, it was Podrick, if only he would listen.

"I was a fool," Jaime said, "and I thought I knew what was best for Brienne. I didn't leave Winterfell to be with Cersei. I left Winterfell to kill Cersei, and I failed. I let Brienne believe otherwise because I didn't want her to follow after me. You lived in the Red Keep when my sister was here. You know what she was like. I didn't want to put Brienne in her path, and I knew, if I told Brienne the truth, she would have insisted upon coming with me, and I didn't want her to die fighting my battle."

Podrick was silent for a spell, staring at Jaime as if considering every last word he had said. Podrick's eyes suddenly flickered away, and Jaime feared he was going to say something biting and cruel, but when he looked at Jaime again, all he said was, "Have you told her this?"

"Yes, but it didn't make any difference. She wants nothing to do with me, which is her right. I'm not trying to make excuses for myself or force my way into her life. I just want to do my job and stay out of her way as much as possible."

"You know you hurt her deeply, don't you?" Podrick said softly, not a hint of accusation in his tone.

"Yes, and if there were some way to take it all back, I would. But right now, all I can do is move forward and hope that Brienne gets past her anger, not for my sake, but for her own."

"And then what? What are your intentions?" Podrick asked, sounding very much like an older brother questioning one of his sister's suitors.

Jaime almost laughed at the absurdity of the question. "I have none. At best, I'd like us to be friends again. At worst, I suppose I just want to be able to pass her in the hallway without seeing anger in her eyes. That's all."

Podrick bobbed his head, silently contemplating Jaime's answer. "Are you sure that's all you want?"

"Of course it is. Brienne is Lord Commander of the Kingsguard now, and I would never ask her to break her vows."

"Break her vows?"

"Yes, her vows of celibacy and lifelong service. I could never ask her to do such a thing, especially not for me."

Podrick stared at Jaime curiously. He opened his mouth to speak but quickly closed it, shaking his head. "I think it would be best if you let Brienne decide her own future, and if there's a place for you in it, I'm sure she'll let you know."

"Of course. The Lord Commander of the Kingsguard certainly has no difficulty speaking her mind. So," Jaime said, wanting to get on with his mission, "may I go see her, or are you still determined to drive me away?"

"You may go, but please, don't let Lady Brienne know that I allowed it. I don't want her to be cross with me."

"I promise," Jaime said, raising his stump in the air, "on my honor."

Podrick eyed Jaime with a hint of skepticism. "All . . . all right then," he replied, "just don't be mean to her. She gets enough ribbing from Ser Bronn at the small council meetings."

"You needn't worry. I shall be perfectly chivalrous."

Jaime's words did nothing to erase the doubt from Podrick's face, but the boy bid him farewell anyway before continuing on to the main keep.

Jaime exhaled a heavy sigh and turned toward the White Sword Tower. He'd made a promise to Podrick Payne, and he intended to keep it.