Chapter Eighteen

After leaving the White Sword Tower, Jaime headed straight to his own chamber, his mind in a daze. He sat on the edge of his bed, staring blindly out the window, desperately trying to make sense of Brienne's words. She had said that if he could prove his worthiness, she'd leave the Kingsguard for him. Jaime didn't understand how such a thing was even possible. Brienne of Tarth was the most loyal, devoted person he had ever known. When she swore a vow, she swore it for life. How could she mean to leave the Kingsguard after she'd pledged herself to a lifetime of service?

Of course, there was one answer, though it was painful for Jaime to even consider. Perhaps Brienne had only made the offer because she truly believed that he couldn't prove his worthiness. What harm could there be in making such a promise if she knew she'd never have to fulfill it?

But that wasn't like Brienne either. Brienne wasn't manipulative. She wasn't like Cersei or even Tyrion. She was honest and forthright. She was everything good and pure and honorable, and Jaime couldn't fathom why she had said what she had said. It didn't make the least bit of sense.

Jaime considered going to Tyrion, asking his brother if he knew how Brienne could make such a declaration. But Tyrion had already meddled too much in their affairs, and Jaime didn't want to risk making things worse for Brienne. The more Tyrion and the rest of the small council knew about their dealings with each other, the worse things seemed to be for them both. Jaime didn't want to expose Brienne to any more ridicule. He wanted to protect her, to keep her safe, even though he knew she was more than capable of protecting herself.

Jaime collapsed back onto the bed, laying his hand behind his head and staring up at the ceiling. How glorious it would be to be back in Brienne's arms! In the six months since he'd been gone, he had not once allowed himself the sheer joy of imagining what it would be like to hold her again, to kiss her again. He hadn't thought himself worthy of Brienne even in his fantasies, but now, he could scarcely fight the urge to imagine what could be. She was so close, just on the other side of the keep. And all he had to do to win her back was convince her that he was worthy of her.

For a moment, Jaime let himself enjoy the fantasy. He imagined Brienne asking him to meet her in the White Sword Tower after a particularly tense small council meeting. He imagined her inviting him into her chamber and pushing him up against the door, sealing her mouth over his and kissing him passionately.

Jaime's cock stirred at the thought, and he clenched his hand beneath his head, fighting the impulse to alleviate his own discomfort. He didn't want to dishonor Brienne by doing something as loathsome as touching himself while he thought about her. Instead, he inhaled a long, hard breath, exhaling it slowly and willing his body under control.

Jaime pushed himself up off the mattress and got out of bed, determined to find some way to distract himself. He wanted to make Brienne proud of him. He wanted to win her favor. He vowed, from that moment forward, he would be the best Master of War the Red Keep had ever seen and everything he did would be worthy of the woman he loved.

The next morning when Jaime entered the small council chamber, he was prepared for the worst. After what had happened the previous morning, he was expecting more needling from Bronn. But after a few well-chosen jibes, Bronn settled down relatively quickly and the small council meeting got underway.

Although Jaime knew he was supposed to be paying attention to the proceedings, it was difficult for him to think of anything but Brienne. He still didn't have the slightest idea how he was going to prove himself to her, and he couldn't concentrate on much else. Even though he kept his eyes on Tyrion, he could see Brienne from the periphery of his vision, and she looked just as calm and in control as ever. When she'd first sat down across from him, she had given him a cool, yet not altogether unkind look before turning her attention to the head of the table.

The meeting was particularly long and boring, and Jaime paid little attention to what was going on around him until he heard Tyrion call his name.

"Jaime, are you listening?"

Jaime blinked several times, refocusing his vision on his brother. "Of course I'm listening."

"Really? Well, if that's the case, what did I just say?"

Jaime's gaze shifted away from Tyrion, catching amused looks from both Bronn and Brienne. It was obvious to everyone that he hadn't been paying attention, and he wasn't sure how to bluff his way out of it.

Jaime's eyes lingered on Brienne for a moment longer than necessary before turning back to Tyrion. "You were talking about the arrival of new recruits," Jaime said, suddenly remembering having heard something of the sort. "From Dorne."

Tyrion scowled. Clearly, Jaime had guessed correctly, and Tyrion was none too pleased that he'd shown him up in front of the rest of the small council. "Yes, Dorne," Tyrion said curtly. "I want you to go down to the harbor and take stock of them. Of course, your generals will be there to do the real work, but I want you to at least make an appearance so that everyone knows who's in charge."

Jaime opened his mouth to answer, but before he could get out a single word, Bronn leaned forward in his chair and said, "I think he should take the Lord Commander here with him. Until a few days ago, she was commanding the troops. Makes sense she should be there too."

Jaime's eyes darted to Brienne, instinctively trying to read her response. Without looking at either Tyrion or Bronn, Jaime said, "I'm sure the Lord Commander has better things to do with her time. I can go on my own."

Bronn leaned in closer. "What? Afraid to be left alone with her?"

But before Jaime could answer, Tyrion interjected, "Ser Brienne does not have to go with Lord Jaime. He can go well enough on his own."

Bronn turned and looked at Tyrion. "Really? I thought you were all for using your powers to force these two together."

"Well, yes, that was my original intention, but I have since promised my brother that I would stop meddling."

"What? Has he got something on you that I don't know about?"

Tyrion shook his head. "No. There's nothing you don't know about. You're worse than a fishmonger's wife."

"I'll go," Brienne said, instantly putting an end to Tyrion and Bronn's conversation.

Everyone at the table turned and looked at her in surprise.

"You don't have to—" Jaime began.

"It is my duty as Lord Commander of the Kingsguard to see that you are properly trained," Brienne said, her eyes meeting Jaime's. "I will accompany you down to the harbor so that we can oversee the arrival of the Dornish recruits."

Jaime was stunned by Brienne's words. Although it was her duty to see that there was a smooth transition of power from Lord Commander of the Kingsguard to Master of War, Tyrion had given her a way out and she had been wholly within her rights to take it. The fact that she hadn't taken it said a great deal about her willingness to give him another chance.

"In that case," Tyrion replied, "you may both leave now if you like. The ship is scheduled to arrive within the hour."

Brienne instantly rose, and Jaime scrambled out of his chair. He could feel Bronn's eyes upon him, but he refused to be unnerved by it.

"Well, well, well," Bronn said, "this looks like it's going to work out quite nicely. Glad I thought of it."

Jaime didn't even bother to glance in Bronn's direction. He just kept his attention on Brienne, waiting for her to lead the way.

"Let's go," she said. "It will take some time to get down there, and I want to leave as soon as possible."

"Whatever you say, my lady," Jaime replied, bowing his head in deference to her.

There was a knowing laugh from Bronn, but both Jaime and Brienne ignored it. They turned together and made their way into the adjoining corridor, leaving the small council chamber behind.

With steady strides, they headed toward the stables, keeping pace together, side by side.

"You know, you really don't have to do this," Jaime said. "You'd be completely within your rights if you let me go alone."

Brienne cast Jaime a sidelong glance. "And let Lord Bronn think that the idea bothered me? Never!"

So that was it, was it? Brienne had agreed to accompany him, not because she wanted to work things out between them, but because she wanted to show Bronn that his taunts didn't bother her in the least. Jaime felt a distinct sense of disappointment. He had thought that, perhaps, Brienne had wanted to spend some time alone with him, but obviously, he'd been wrong.

"I'm surprised that you care what Bronn thinks," Jaime said. "I thought you were above caring what other people think of you."

"It isn't that I care. It's just that I know how much he enjoys tormenting me, and I have no desire to give him that satisfaction, that's all."

"He looked pretty satisfied to me. Seems he got exactly what he wanted."

Brienne's eyes darkened, but she didn't reply. She just turned her attention back to the path in front of them and kept walking.

It didn't take long for Jaime and Brienne to reach the stables and mount their horses. Jaime didn't have a horse of his own, of course. He had traveled from the Stormlands to King's Landing mostly on foot, occasionally hitching a ride on a passing wagon as he'd headed north. So upon their arrival at the stables, Brienne had chosen a mount for him, one she knew it would be easy for him to handle with just one hand, and then, they'd been on their way.

The dock where the troops were arriving wasn't far from the Red Keep, and when they reached it, the boat had just made anchor. Jaime and Brienne stopped their mounts several yards away, watching the men disembark. The new recruits were mostly boys, no older than the king himself.

Jaime and Brienne were close enough to see their faces, and although most of the boys looked tired from the journey, there was a glint of wonder in their eyes as they looked up and saw King's Landing for the first time. From a distance, the city walls still looked impressive and the tent city that sprawled beyond its gates was truly a wonder to behold. Jaime was thankful that the Six Kingdoms were still at peace. If it stayed that way, the boys before him might actually have a chance to reach manhood and become knights one day.

After a long time of silently watching the activity around them, Brienne asked, "So, what do you think?"

It took Jaime a moment to collect his thoughts. "I think . . . I think it's a start. I think it's better than what I expected. I expected the new recruits to look hungry and downtrodden, but they don't. And I must admit, it's a great relief."

"Apparently, things are a great deal more stable in Dorne. Those young men are eager to make something of themselves here in the capital. That's why I recruited them."

For a moment, Jaime had forgotten that it was Brienne's hard work that had brought these boys north to shore up their forces. She alone had made it happen, and she deserved all the credit.

"You've done an admirable job," Jaime replied. "Are you certain you wouldn't rather be Master of War than Lord Commander of the Kingsguard?"

Brienne glanced at Jaime, eyeing him as if she wasn't quite sure if he was joking or not. Finally, she said, "Lord Commander of the Kingsguard was all that was offered to me. I'm sure that King Bran knows best."

"But does he?" Jaime had been wondering that very thing since the moment he'd returned to King's Landing. Everyone seemed to think that because Bran was the Three-Eyed Raven he knew what was best for everyone, but Jaime wasn't sure that was true. "Just because he's a seer doesn't necessarily mean that he always knows what's right. After all, he let Daenerys Targaryen lead her armies south and burn King's Landing. If he's truly as benevolent as everyone thinks he is, why would he do such a thing?"

Brienne turned to look at the troops again. She was quiet for some time, and Jaime was certain she wasn't going to answer, but finally, she said, "I don't believe that Bran can see the future. At least, not all of it. From what I hear, he catches glimpses of things, that's all. Perhaps he didn't know what was going to happen. Or perhaps it was what was meant to happen. All I know is that, since Bran has been king, there has been peace in Westeros, and I can't help but think he's the reason."

"Bran or my brother?" Jaime asked, still unconvinced that Bran Stark wasn't anything more than a useless figurehead.

"Bran, your brother, the small council, the lords of the Six Kingdoms, the smallfolk, everyone. This peace was not a result of one man's actions, but Bran holds it all together. If someone more ambitious were on the throne, we might already be embroiled in another war. I believe that Bran's indifference to his own power is what makes him a good king. And I believe he knows what's right for Westeros."

"And for you?"

Brienne finally turned and looked at Jaime again, and he wished he could read her emotions. Her gaze was cool, but not cold, and he had no idea what she was thinking. "I think the king is well aware of my talents and has placed me where I will best serve the realm."

"And he expects you to stay at your post for life." It was not a question. It was a statement of fact. One that contradicted Brienne's words from the night before. Jaime held his breath as he waited for her to reply. It was one thing for her to say she would leave the Kingsguard for him when they were alone together in the warm confines of her chamber, but here, in the harsh light of day, it was a lot more difficult to lie.

But Brienne had never been a liar, and she didn't lie to Jaime now. "No," she said, "I don't think he expects me to stay at my post for life."

Jaime's heart stopped beating as he stared at Brienne, the cool morning air tense between them. He had not expected such an answer, and he didn't know how to respond.

Brienne broke Jaime's gaze and turned away from him again, her attention settling on the troops. "It seems King Bran knows something about my future that I don't, though he has never said anything specific. I can't quite imagine ever leaving my post, but I suppose time will tell."

"But you've taken a vow for life."

Brienne sighed, and her shoulders slumped. It was the first sign all morning that she was in any kind of distress.

"What do you think of that lot over there?" she asked, nodding toward the harbor.

Jaime dragged his eyes away from Brienne, disappointed that the subject had suddenly changed, and turned back toward the dock.

A small group of young men had just stepped off the gangway and were being sorted into regiments. They were a straggly bunch, all very young and very small, and they were all being ushered toward the infantry.

"They look scrawny to me," Jaime answered. "I doubt they'll be anything more than arrow fodder."

"I think they have potential," Brienne said, squaring her shoulders and raising her chin a little higher. "They may be small, but they're scrappy, and I learned a long time ago that it's the ones who have the most to prove who make the best fighters."

"Oh, really?"

"Of course. Being a woman, I had no choice but to fight harder, to be better, than everyone else. And you, well," Brienne finally turned to look at him again, "you've been trying to prove yourself for a long time."

"And it seems all I've ever done is fail."

"So prove yourself now, Jaime Lannister. Go," she said, cocking her head toward the docks. "Go be Master of War. Go be the best damned Master of War this city has ever seen. Make those boys proud to serve under you. Do it for Westeros. Do it for yourself."

Do it for me.

Brienne didn't say the words, but Jaime heard them just the same. She was giving him a chance. She was pointing him in the right direction, showing him what she wanted. She wanted him to prove that he was the true, honorable, noble knight she had once believed him to be, and he was determined to do just that. For Brienne.

"All right," Jaime said, "I'll do it. I'll be the best Master of War that Westeros has ever seen."

"Good," Brienne replied. "Now go make yourself proud."