The inky darkness pooled around him as if it sought to permeate his skin, and drag him down to a Hell he probably deserved. The dark sky looked as if it were melting, spreading its heavy weight over the land. No sounds echoed from the usually bustling streets. No breezes lifted the thick oppressive weight of the stagnant air. Not even the ship bells rang in the bay. It was the kind of night that made a man regret every choice he had ever made, and caused his past haunt him.
Tyrion Lannister, Hand of the King, stood sullenly on the balcony just off his solar, lost in thought. It would appear to the casual observer, that he was simply taking in the vista that stretched from the Tower of the Hand within the Red Keep to the sea. However, it was far too dark to see at that great a distance and his thoughts were anything but casual. He enjoyed the daytime. He could stay busy, his duties and the business of the Realm kept him occupied. It was when the world quieted, and the distractions stilled that his mind traveled to places he would rather not go. Tonight was one of those nights.
Tyrion breathed deep the muggy air. He took a long slow swallow of the wine he clutched in his hand like a lifeline. Lifting his head slowly and swirling the red liquid in the heavy metal goblet, he let the dense vintage trail down his throat. It would take much of it for him to find sleep this evening. Tyrion closed his eyes, trying to keep his focus on the strength of the alcohol.
Suddenly, something behind him shifted in the shadows. "Tyrion." Called the low raspy voice he had not heard in almost three years, but would know anywhere. His brother, bearded and cloaked in black, stepped from the gloom into the dim light cast from the candles flickering through the windows.
Tyrion turned with a start. "Jaime." He answered, flatly. He was unsure why his voice held such dread as he regarded his beloved brother.
"It is good to see you." Jaime said hauntingly, his voice choking a bit. "You look well." He complimented his brother.
Tyrion nodded his wary gratitude. "As do you." He studied Jaime. "Much better than last I saw you." He admitted.
"I imagine I do." Jaime looked down bashfully. They stood in awkward silence for a moment.
It had taken Jaime far longer to reach Westeros than he had hoped. Tyrion had made sure his hiding place in Essos had been far, far away. Lacking the coin for fare upon a ship, he had walked most of the way from the far off reaches of the distant continent. It had not been an easy journey. Weather, terrain, and his weakened health were not the only impediments that seemed to scheme to keep him from, Brienne, the woman he loved. Broke and nearly starving, Jaime had been forced to halt his progress several times to take employment. The work was hard, but it allowed him at least to eat. He had been mistaken for a beggar and jailed for weeks near Meereen. Finally, nearly a year and half after leaving Asabahd he boarded the ship that would bring him home. He had known that Tyrion was King Bran's hand, and so upon his arrival, Jaime had traversed the back streets of the Kings Landing until he reached his brother's quarters.
Jaime's face was deadly serious when he brought his eyes back to meet Tyrion's. "Why did you send me to the Gods forsaken bowels of Essos, Tyrion?" He accused. "Why did you leave me there?"
Tyrion exhaled and looked at the sky, perhaps for strength or perhaps because he realized his goblet was empty. He strode purposefully across the balcony in front of Jaime, his head down, and tried to be the voice of reason. "You know as well as I do that you would have been a marked man here in Westeros." He appealed to Jaime, while he spoke to his absent wine. Jaime followed him inside, close on his heals and ever alert.
"You seem very sure of that?" Jaime smirked.
"Of course I am." Tyrion agreed. "You sided with the wicked queen." He said judgementally.
"But not the mad one." Jaime accused.
"I denounced Daenarys Targaryen, and her mass murder." Tyrion corrected, filling his goblet and pouring one for Jaime. "You ran back to Cersei like a naughty puppy with your tail tucked between your legs." He shot back, although he handed Jaime the cup of wine in the same breath.
"So you shipped me off to Asabahd for my own good?" Jaime questioned, gulping the liquid from his goblet.
"Of course." Tyrion argued. "If I had not done so, your head would have decorated a stake at the gates of Kings Landing." He affirmed.
"I find it hard to believe that the Starks and Jon Snow would have been so unforgiving." Jaime protested.
"Perhaps so, but remember, it was Daenarys who took the city. Had you been captured by her forces, you and Cersei would not have lasted the day." Tyrion sipped from his cup, certain of himself.
"Well. Cersei did not." Jaime recounted. Tyrion noted the absence of sadness in his tone upon mentioning their sister's death.
"You would not have either." Tyrion assured him. "The citizens of the city themselves would have seen to it, believe me."
Jaime considered his brother's words. "Perhaps." He reluctantly agreed. "But I could have begged. I could have appealed. I could have sneaked out the same way I had entered." He reasoned.
"You were barely alive." Tyrion reminded him.
Jaime's face grew wistful as he continued. "I could have gone back." His voice lowered to a whisper.
Tyrion's demeanor calmed to match Jaime's. He understood what his brother meant. He knew that Jaime had loved Brienne of Tarth, and that he had only left her because he had been so destroyed by Cersei, he felt he deserved nothing better. She had always manipulated and controlled him, until he could barely function without her approval. Perhaps he had felt as though he was protecting Brienne when he had abandoned her after their passionate romance at Winterfell. Tyrion knew that Cersei could well have had Brienne killed. Maybe Jaime was trying to save Brienne from the evil he always wrongly felt was within him. Whatever the true reason, Tyrion knew it had not been only Brienne's heart that had shattered that night in the cold.
"Gone back?" Tyrion repeated his brother's words.
Jaime gave Tyrion a knowing look. "Where is she?" He eyed his brother. "Where is Brienne?" Jaime begged.
Tyrion eyes grew even sadder, knowing that was the real reason for his brother's return from the dead. It was he who was to be the bearer of the news. That Brienne now belonged to someone else. He looked at Jaime with pity, and forced the words he had been trying to avoid. "Jaime." His eyes saddened with regret and he shook his head. "Brienne is gone."
The blood drained from Jaime's face. He struggled to draw breath, and fought simply to stand. He had heard Tyrion wrong, surely. What had his brother meant? Images of Brienne came flooding into his mind. Thoughts of her strong, vibrant, and filled with life played in front of his eyes. He remembered the conversation he had overheard in the drinking establishment in Asabhad. The soldier had bragged of seeing Brienne wounded. Had that Essosi demon truly cut her down? If she was dead, there would be no reason for him to go on.
His eyes grew wide as he searched Tyrion's face. "The battle..." He stammered weakly. "At Eastwatch." Jaime's words came in disjointed pieces as he tried to make sense of it all. "She was wounded..." He gasped.
"How did you know that?" Tyrion asked astonished.
"I heard an Essosi soldier talking about that battle in a tavern." Jaime could barely breath as he explained. "I heard him talking...about her." He felt the world spin beneath him and begin to give way. He grabbed a tall carved chair for support.
When he was able to speak, he turned pained eyes to his brother. "Did she suffer?" He was not sure he wanted to know.
Tyrion realized he had perhaps chosen the wrong phrase. He shook his head. "That is not what I meant, Jaime." Tyrion told him. "Brienne lives. She was quite gravely wounded in the battle, but with time and care she was returned to full health." He said alleviating Jaime's fears.
"I don't understand?" Jaime questioned as relief and hope washed over him anew. "How is she gone?" He asked.
Tyrion cleared his throat and attempted to find more appropriate words. "She is gone from King's Landing."
Jaime's smile grew wide, and he almost shuttered as he was able to draw breath again. "Then she is at a Winterfell." He conjectured, nodding with certainty. Tyrion shook his head, not wanting to tell his brother the truth.
"Tarth. She has returned to her father's house." Jaime said, sure he was correct.
The remorseful look he received told him otherwise. "Jaime." Tyrion began, knowing it would break his brother's heart. "Brienne has married another."
Jaime looked as if he had been punched in the gut. All his hopes were crumbling to the dust. In an instant his face turned sour, his eyes darkening to rage filled pits. "Who?" He spat, remembering what the Essosi had said about the fire-haired wild man who had rushed Brienne from the battlefield at Eastwatch. Jaime was fearful he already knew Tyrion's answer.
"Tormund Giantsbane." Tyrion reported, stepping back a little to await the tirade that was sure to come. "Queen Sansa has released Brienne from her oath and she has gone North of the Wall with her husband, to make their life together." He told his crestfallen older brother.
"Don't call him that!" Jaime snapped, his eyes burning with rage.
"That's what he is, Jaime." Tyrion said with a raise of his brow.
Jamie shook his head, not able to believe what he had heard. "No!" He began to shout. "No! She loves me. I should be her husband." He argued.
Tyrion's listened, his understanding turning to incredulousness. "You gave up that right." He reminded his brother. "She loved you, Jaime." He conceded. "I am certain of that." His mind traveled back to their time at Winterfell. "Brienne respected you, and saw the same goodness in you I always have." Tyrion praised. "She even finished your page in the White Book when she came here to Kings Landing. It is so glowing and stellar, that it had to be she who wrote it." Tyrion had seen it for himself, the depths of their feelings for each other, and he understood how their love had grown. "All of that seems a hundred ago, now." He lamented.
"How?" Jaime demanded. "She could barely stand him." He was certain there had to be some reason, other than her own heart, that would cause Brienne to have agreed to become Giantsbane's wife. He could not fathom that Brienne would have developed feelings for the wild man she once denied.
"Queen Sansa, and Jon Snow sent them both on a mission together to secure the unity of the North." Tyrion reported. "Apparently time together drew them close, and cemented their bond." He announced, his face unintentionally relaying a fondness for the couple.
Jaime's eyes glared. "Sent them? Together?" He scoffed. "So it was Sansa Stark and Snow behind this?" He was sure there was a conspiracy.
"Behind what?" Tyrion demanded. "Brienne and Giantsbane were the obvious choices as envoys." He explained. "You can put two people together, but you cannot make love grow between them. That comes on it's own." Tyrion told him, growing annoyed at his brother's ego. Jaime needed no reminder. In his mind he had relived every moment he had ever spent with Brienne, and recalled how his love for her had taken hold of him.
"Perhaps she simply gave into to his persistent, annoying advances." Jaime conjectured. There had been no one to draw her away from Giantsbane's zealousness.
Tyrion shook his head. "When did you ever know Brienne of Tarth to give in to anything?" He scoffed, then Tyrion thought about how much hearing of Brienne's marriage to someone else must be tearing Jaime apart. His tone softened as he tried to explain.
"I've seen them together at Winterfell." Tyrion confirmed. "She loves him, and he loves her." He told Jaime, hoping that at least knowing Brienne was happy would calm him. "I have scarce ever seen two people so much in love." A smile crossed his face in spite of himself. He remembered how joyful he had been for Brienne when he had watched her with the Wilding. The expression only incensed Jaime further.
"I am the one she loves!" Jaime shouted unable to hold his ire any longer. He slammed his hand down forcefully on the table. Tyrion watched as his expression changed to that of a mad man. "I will go North. I will find Brienne." Jaime seethed. "When she sees me, she will not be able to deny that I am the one she loves." He asserted. "Then she will go with me, and the Wildling will be left sitting alone in the snow." He grinned, imagining his plan.
Tyrion again shook his head. "She won't leave." He said confidently.
"Then I'll take her." Jaime began creating options in his mind. "When she's away from him, she will remember how much she loves me."
Tyrion stared at Jaime with disbelief. Had his dear brother lost his mind? "I can guarantee that she will not allow that to occur." He looked earnestly at Jaime.
"What makes you so sure she won't runaway with me of her own free will?" Jaime asked, still confident in the feelings Brienne once held for him. Of all people he would have thought Tyrion would have been his champion in reclaiming the heart of his beloved.
Tyrion looked up into his brother's eyes with a sad frown. It killed him to see Jaime's heart ache so, longing for someone he would never have. "Jaime." He whispered, drawing in a deep breath. "Brienne has given the Wilding a son." He broke the news softly. Jaime could only stare in silence, his dream of the child they might have created together destroyed.
"You know Brienne." Tyrion continued solemnly. "Do you really believe her the kind of woman who would abandon her child?" Tyrion squinted at him, seriously.
The pit in Jaime's stomach clawed it's way up to his heart. How he wanted to be the father of Brienne's children. Jaime knew Brienne would give her life rather than to leave her own flesh and blood. His intentions raced ahead of logical thought. "She can bring boy. I will raise him as my own." Jaime offered, more to ease his own mind. "He is part of her. I will learn to love him." He nodded.
Tyrion's face sagged with the enormity of what Jaime proposed. "I am sure that is exactly what Brienne would want for her son." He began sarcastically. "A man who tolerates him, rather than the boy's own devoted father." He rolled his eyes. "Listen to yourself." Tyrion demanded. "Do you even know what you're saying?" He beseeched Jaime to be reasonable.
"I know exactly what I am saying." Jaime lifted his chin. "I intend to fight for her." He declared.
"I am certain that stealing another man's wife and child goes over about as well in Wilding culture as it would here in the south, Jaime." Tyrion spun on him, forcing him to examine his grand plan. "You'll be dead before you reach The Wall, and you may cause Brienne's death as well." He illustrated a dreadful ending. Jaime said nothing. He simply stood there. His mouth contorted into a grimace. His breath shallow from hate.
"What did you think she was going to do?" Tyrion continued to grill his brother. "Did you simply assume that Brienne would pine away for you for the rest of her life like the Kingslayer's widow?" He scoffed. "You didn't even give her that much did you, Jaime?" He could no longer hold his venom. Brienne was his friend, and he hated the way his brother had hurt her.
Jaime was quiet for a moment. Never, as he had dreamed of her, had it occurred to him that she might not want him. "The thought of her, of winning her back, was the only thing that kept me alive." Jaime confessed as his expelled the breath hopelessly from his lungs. His eyes glistening with tears.
"She had to move on." Tyrion said trying to help Jaime understand. He recalled the day she bid him farewell and charged him with the care of the most precious gift Jaime had given her. He sat his goblet on the edge of his desk and walked slowly to a large wooden cabinet along the wall. He pulled a long chain from inside his tunic, attached to which was a key. Turning the lock, Tyrion opened the heavy door. He reached in and retrieved a long, thin parcel that had been carefully wrapped in the finest silk. Jaime studied his motions intently. The item contained within was obviously heavy for his brother to carry.
Tyrion returned and laid the mysterious covered article carefully on the table. He peered up at Jaime almost apologetically, and then began to remove the fine fabric from around the treasure it held. Jaime's shocked gasp caught in his throat. Before his eyes, far from its rightful place hanging at Brienne's side, unused and stored away sat Oathkeeper. He had given her the magnificent sword not only as a testament to her bravery, but he now understood that he also bestowed the weapon upon her as a token of his love. The only kind he could dare show, then. Even when she had received it, neither could admit that it would be the symbol of their feelings for one another. The candlelight gleamed off the brilliant Valerian steel as Jaime removed it from the buttery rich leather scabbard. His heart realized what the enormity of it being gone from Brienne's possession meant, and the sacrifice she had made.
Jaime caressed the blade like he had once done Brienne. His eyes were distant, reliving a memory, as his brain reeled with confusion. "It is her's." He whispered painfully. "I told her it would always be hers." The hurt that echoed in his voice was almost more than Tyrion could bare, and he stepped forward ready to comfort his brother's broken heart.
Forcing himself back to reality, Jaime flashed angry eyes at Tyrion. "This is Brienne's." He affirmed. "She would never part with it." His words were more to convince himself. "How are you in possession of it?" He demanded.
Tyrion took a deep breath and drained his goblet. Jamie deserved at least the explanation to his question. "Before she left Kings Landing, Ser Brienne called upon me." He began. "She bid me to take the sword." Tyrion explained. "She said that it was Lannister steel, and should stay in our family." He recounted.
"I see." Jaime spoke almost bitterly. "So Oathkeeper meant so little to her?" He asked rhetorically.
"It wasn't like that." Tyrion corrected him. "It meant everything to Brienne. It broke her heart to relinquish such a treasure." He paused. "Her only connection to you." He reminded Jaime.
"Then why?" Jaime winced as if his pain were physical.
"Because she could not live the rest of her life mourning a man she felt was not hers." Tyrion spoke up. "Because she could not go forward with her future, tied to a dead man." He paused sadly. Jaime stared at him, confused and not understanding the meaning behind Tyrion's words. It had never entered Jaime's mind that Brienne would doubt his feelings for her, even though he had returned to his sister."
"It was Brienne's belief that your life had ended the way you had wished." Tyrion lamented. "That you had rather die with Cersei than live with her." He told Jaime painfully.
"Is that what she said?" Jaime's guilt overwhelmed him. Tyrion simply nodded, and regarded Jaime with sympathy. Jaime shook his head remorsefully, his face stricken at the thought of the pain he had caused the only woman he had ever truly loved. "No. No." He whispered. "Oh, Brienne." Jaime spoke to her as if she were standing before him. "You could not have been more wrong." He could barely breathe over his torture.
"You could have told her that I lived still." Jaime lashed out at Tyrion, his rage uncontrollable. He could not understand why his brother had not revealed his secret to Brienne at such a time.
"It would not have made a difference." Tyrion lamented. "She was excited about her new duty, and..." He could not continue.
"And?" Jaime glowered, pleading for him to elaborate.
Tyrion nodded. "You left her." He charged. "You broke her heart, Jaime." He indicted. "Just as yours is now breaking." Jaime lowered his head at the truth. "I do not believe her pride would have allowed her to run to you in Essos. I did not wish to add to her grief. She mourned you, and she had to let you go." Truthfully, he had hoped Brienne would find the fulfillment she now enjoyed. He knew that learning of Jaime's existence would have only deepened her pain. He refused to do such a thing to his friend.
"Jaime." Tyrion sounded pensive. "Please tell me, because I do not understand." He stared ahead, averting his eyes from his brother's misery. He knew his words would be heavy enough. "If you love Brienne so much." He swallowed. "Why did you leave her?" He implored.
Jaime's face turned mournful. He eyed Tyrion with disbelief. Surely his brother was aware of his reasons. "I did not deserve her, Tyrion." He shook his head. "I told her I was hateful. If I had stayed, I would have poisoned her with the wickedness in my soul." Jamie hung his head sullenly. "I had to make her hate me." He admitted. "If she had followed me, which you know she would have, it would have meant her death." He closed his eyes at the painful image he had so greatly feared. "I had to protect Brienne." He told Tyrion.
"Are saying you intended to kill, Cersei?" Tyrion studied Jaime intently. They had never spoken of this before.
Jaime paused. "I couldn't. You know that." He reminded Tyrion. "I could not kill my own child." He affirmed. "Would that not have been worse by far than killing my own king?" He beseeched.
"Yet, you could not let her live?" Tyrion tried to understand Jaime's bewildering logic.
"I could not let her, or myself, hurt Brienne." He swallowed remorsefully. "So I told Cersei whatever lie she needed to believe, and resigned myself to a life with her."
Tyrion exhaled slowly. "But you did...hurt Brienne." He lamented. Jaime's tears-filled eyes told Tyrion that his brother needed no reminder of that fact. Tyrion studied the table far too intently, not wanting to distress his brother further. "Jaime." His shoulders fell as he shook his head in regret. "The Maesters examined every inch of Cersei's body, inside and out, before they laid her upon the pyre." His pained eyes rose to meet his brother's stare. "There was never any child." Tyrion's heart broke thinking of what Jaime had forsaken for their sister's treachery.
Jaime caught the back of a nearby chair for support as the world began to spin. Tyrion tried to ease his despair. "She must have known she was losing you." He told him sympathetically. "She had to know it. Even at the Dragon Pit, the tension between the three of you was so thick, it could have been cut with a blade." Tyrion recalled. "Cersei had to have sensed it. She knew that telling you she was carrying your child was the only way to keep you."
Jaime's mind was reeling at Tyrion's revelation. "It was all a lie." He whispered to himself.
Tyrion nodded. "You left the woman you loved and the life you could have had together. You broke Brienne's heart, and almost died because of a lie." He agreed flatly.
Shaking, Jaime dragged the chair over which he leaned from beneath the table and sat stiffly, his knees giving way. He could barely breathe, and forced his chest to rise and fall. "I threw all of it away for nothing." Only now, when faced with truth of Cersei's manipulation of him did he understand fully his sacrifice, and the consequences of it. "I was a fool." He cursed himself.
Jaime laid his face mournfully in his hands, and saw again Brienne's pained expression on the night he had left. "Gods." He swore. "How I must have hurt her." He hated himself.
Tyrion allowed Jaime his moment to mourn before his practical nature took over once more. "You made a choice." He told his brother, stoically.
"It was the wrong choice." Jaime's eyes filled with bitter tears as he looked over to Tyrion.
"No matter how ill informed, it was still your choice to make." Tyrion confronted Jaime. "Just as Brienne has made her choice. She has married the Wildling and started a family with him." He told his brother, raising his head with certainty. "You need to honor that choice, and allow her to live her life in peace." He said, his jaw steeling with determination. "You have no right to disturb her family."
Jaime sat quietly. Tyrion's words sinking into his flesh like a smothering rain. In truth he had to admit that he was glad Brienne had not spent the last years wallowing in sadness, longing for a ghost who had rejected her and broken her heart. Jaime was certain that Tormund Giantsbane had lavished Brienne with all the love he could not give her himself. He tried to picture her as a wife, as a mother, and a partner. For a moment, he allowed the image to form in his mind. He saw her tall and strong, a vision, shielding her family. He smiled at the thought of how protective and adoring she must be with her son. She deserved that happiness, and he knew it.
It was then that Jaime's brain reminded him that it was not his home she saw to. It was not his child she cared for. Brienne was not his wife. His soft expression upon imagining her faded almost as quickly as it had appeared. A darkness found his face and it washed into his mind. It was Giantsbane with whom Brienne had made her home. Giantsbane with whom she shared her marriage bed. Giantsbane who had fathered her child. Brienne was the Wilding's wife. The years Jaime had spent longing for her, regretting leaving her, imagining winning her back had burned a hole in him. It was a void that would only be filled by holding Brienne in his arms once more.
Jaime sat at the table in Tyrion's solar, his face turning into a mask of anger. His hands writhing into clenched fists. He shook his head, as if to clear the soft resignation that had begun to set in. He remembered lying in the darkness, under the furs at Winterfell, his arms filled with Brienne's shapely form. His heart brimming with the love for her that he had fought and hidden for years. He had finally come to know what it meant to be happy. Then, he had destroyed it.
"No!" Jaime slammed his fists against the thick oak of the tabletop. "No! She loves me." Jaime proclaimed. "I love her." He nodded vehemently, sure of himself. "We were meant to be together."
Tyrion sighed mournfully. "Jaime, please." He implored. "I beg you. Don't do this." His eyes bore into Jaime as if he could will his brother back to his senses.
Jaime tapped the table, finally deciding upon the actions he had to take. He had set this course long ago in Essos. He would see it through or die trying. What difference could it make? He was already a dead man. His body tensed as he jumped up, grabbing Oathkeeper and shielding the precious weapon next to himself as if it were Brienne herself.
"You'll see, Tyrion." He vowed. "I will win her back." Jaime shook with conviction. "When she sees me, alive and well, Brienne will forget about that Wilding." He smiled at the thought. "She will remember that it is me she loves."
"Jaime." Tyrion tried to stop him as Jaime strode toward the door to the balcony.
Jaime stopped, turning to smile at Tyrion before leaving. "Just wait, my brother." He said, his mind already racing ahead. "The next time you see me, Brienne will be My wife." He promised, his eyes sparkling.
Jaime departed back into the dark cover of night, Tyrion running fast on his heels. "Jaime!" Tyrion shouted desperately. He ran out onto the stony ledge of the balcony only to find his brother already disappeared, as if he had never been there.
There was one more stop Jaime needed to make before he left Kings Landing. He had not intended to tarry, but his conversation with Tyrion had made him determined to see what Brienne had written about him in the White Book. He crept through the shadows warily as he approached the White Sword Tower where the volume was kept. His feet directed him toward the barracks of the Kingsguard. He knew the route innately, the memory of his time in residence there coming back to him as if it were only yesterday. Most the Guard had long since turned in, but a few were still prowling the halls especially those unlucky enough to have pulled duty on this sweltering evening.
He took his time stealthily gaining access to the stairway that led to the tower. A number of times he had pressed himself against the wall in the shadows and held his breath until a sentry had passed. He smiled to himself when he realized that one of those sentinels was a Podrick Payne. The young Lord Commander had obviously learned from his former master, Brienne, never willing to ask a duty of those under her command that she would not undertake herself. He swelled with pride at the thought of Brienne's honor. His hand went to Oathkeeper which he had already secured around his waste. He would return the weapon to its rightful owner.
Ascending a few flights, Jaime finally came upon his destination. The room that held the White Book looked clean and bright, obviously having been rebuilt after its collapse. It was a wonder the record itself had survived. The chamber was dimly lit by a few small torches placed along the walls. In the dim light Jaime spied the thick worn book that detailed the exploits of the most valiant knights of Westeros. Cautiously Jaime took a heavily melted candle stick from the podium and fired it to life using one of the torches. He returned and sat behind the heavy parchment. He knew where his page was, it had been his embarrassment for many years.
He delicately turned back the thin paper leaves to the place where his story had been left unceremoniously short. To his surprise he found that the record of his exploits now filled two pages. It was all there. The Whispering Wood. His oath to Lady Catelyn. The loss of his hand was made to sound heroic. His victory at Riverrun, sacrificing Casterly Rock, and his grand plan to take Highgarden were portrayed as noble. Tears came to his eyes as he read what was written about his service at Winterfell fighting the dead. His heart seized to remember how he and Brienne had battled side by side as one. Of course it had been Brienne who had written these words about him. Only she knew all of it. Finally, he came the most heartbreaking of all. He read her account of his leaving. She had written that he rode south attempting to save the capital, instead of that he had left his beloved in the middle of the night like a coward to return to his evil manipulating sister. Jaime's eyes fell hard upon the last lines Brienne had written. 'Died protecting his Queen.'
His tears were falling freely now. He feared they might run the ink on the page. 'He died a fool.' Jaime corrected in his head. 'You are my Queen, Brienne.' Jaime thought sadly. 'You always shall be.'
Jaime took a moment to wallow in his misery, and revel in astonishment at Brienne's compassion. Surely the woman who had written those words loved him. Surely, she still did. He had to believe that.
Turning the pages carefully back, Jaime searched for Brienne's page. He found none. Anger burned in him for the glaring omission of the bravest most honorable Knight of the Seven Kingdoms. He knew what he needed to do. He would right this wrong. He had once been Lord Commander here. He had every right to pen the page of Brienne's heroism. Jaime took the lid from the nearby ink well, and picked up the quill that sat beside the book. Thinking for only a moment, he knew exactly what he would write.
Jaime grandly labeled the next empty page, Ser Brienne of Tarth. Then proudly, he recounted her deeds for the ages.
Daughter of Lord Selwyn of Tarth. Winner of the Melee at Bitterbridge, and subsequently commissioned to Renly Baratheon's Rainbowguard at Storms End. Sworn Sword to Lady Catelyn Stark of Winterfell, by oath of fealty. Fought and survived a bear in the pits at Harrenhal. Tasked with finding Lady Sansa Stark and delivering her safely to Winterfell. Given the Valerian steel sword, Oathkeeper, to aid her in her quest. Beat The Hound, Sandor Clegane, in single combat. Avenged the death of Renly Baratheon. Swore an oath of fealty to Lady Sansa Stark. Represented House Stark in presenting one of the dead at the Dragon Pit in Kings Landing. Knighted for her service to the Realm. Fought the dead at Winterfell. Commissioned Lord Commander of the Kingsguard under King Bran Stark. Her efforts were invaluable in uniting the North under House Stark.
Jaime smiled as he remembered those times he had shared with Brienne, purposefully leaving himself out of her story. His heart burst with love and pride for her as he closed the ancient book. The world would remember Brienne now as she should be, as one of the greatest knights of the realm. He affirmed his belief in Brienne's love for him, and silently left the tower. He would not stop until he reached her.
Tyrion's distress over Jaime's plan gnawed at him as he paced the floor of his solar and drained several more goblets of wine. He loved his brother, and he wished he could have returned to find Brienne waiting for him. However, he knew she was more than justified in choosing her own path. He understood that Brienne was deeply in love with Tormund Giantsbane. They had made a life together. Jaime had no right to disturb their union, or worse. Tyrion knew he had only one choice. There was no other way to stop the disaster that promised to occur.
He walked assuredly to his desk and took a small piece of parchment from the top drawer. Upon the paper he described Jaime's intentions, and beseeched the recipient for help. At first light he would make his way to the Red Keep's Ravenry and send his warning at Queen Sansa at Winterfell.