TW: major character death during childbirth

Jaime arrived at Tyrion's apartments weary. Joanna was in his arms, pouting but no longer crying. Jaime wanted to cry. He looked after Joanna most of the time because he felt so guilty that she didn't have a mother at the moment. He couldn't bear to leave her in the nursery, so he kept her with him, but she was crying. Tyrion reckoned her teeth were coming through and it was painful for little ones, so she cried.

And cried and cried and cried.

And sometimes Jaime cried with her or sometimes it would only be after she went to sleep that he would cry. He had been alone before in his life, but he had never had something as good and encouraging as Brienne's constant companionship, so the absence of it only increased his loneliness.

Tyrion was helpful, sometimes, but they were both missing their wives so much that a lot of the time they only depressed each other, which was not helpful for either of them or for Joanna.

Arya was a big part of Jaime's life now, and Tyrion's too. She was their only link to their wives, as she was able to 'become' a maester and enter the apartments where Sansa and Brienne were. Jaime wasn't sure if it was orders from their wives or sympathy, or duty, from Arya, but she spent a lot of time with both Jaime and Tyrion. There were multiple times that Arya had burst into Jaime's chambers in the middle of the day and tugged his curtains apart and forced him to go and spar with her outside.

Jaime would never tell her how much he appreciated - and needed - her support. He had a feeling she already knew anyway.

Pulling himself away from the wall, Jaime caressed Joanna's curls and knocked on Tyrion's door.

Tyrion himself answered it, though he did not meet Jaime's eyes. The smell of wine permeated immediately. "Dear Gods, Tyrion, have you bathed in wine?" Jaime asked, stepping into the apartment. He looked around. It was in as bad a state as his own, though worse-smelling. "Tyrion-"

Tyrion looked up which made Jaime cut himself off. His eyes were red, tears still on his cheeks. "What has happened?" Jaime demanded, his own throat closing as he imagined the possibilities. "Is it Sansa? What's happened? Is it the baby?"

"She's in labour. She's in labour and they won't let me see her. I can't get in- Jaime, I can't - she's in-" he sobbed, the rest of his words blurring into nothingness. Jaime's throat filled. The thought of not being beside Brienne when she gave birth was scary and very real, especially now that he saw the same thing happening to Tyrion.

Brienne's time was close now. Jaime would find himself in the same position as Tyrion before long. "Tyrion, what can I do?" Jaime whispered. The tunnel that he had used to access Brienne's chambers was now guarded, day and night. Arya had confirmed it for him. Tyrion shook his head.

"There is nothing," Tyrion said brokenly. "She's alone and-"

Jaime shook his head, tears springing to his eyes. "She's with Brienne. She's not alone."

"She's not got me!" Tyrion roared and then fell to the ground, his sobs overcoming him again. Jaime felt sick. This all felt like a horrible dream, like a nightmare that never ended.

His father came to mind. Jaime chuckled bitterly at the thought of what Tywin Lannister would have thought of his two sons like this. He cradled Joanna close and then crouched down to his brother, a difficult feat considering he didn't have another hand to balance on, but he managed. He cupped his brother's cheek and made him look into his eyes.

"She is not alone," he said, as strongly as he could, ignoring the tears in his throat. "She has Brienne and she's going to have you. You're the cleverest person I know. How do we get in there?"

Tyrion opened his mouth to speak but, before he could, there was a knock at the door. Jaime narrowed his eyes at his brother in silent askance. Tyrion shook his head mutely. Jaime swallowed, nodding and standing. He carefully placed Joanna on the bed and went to the door, pulling his sword from its sheath.

Behind the door he found ten guards. "What can we help you with?" he asked, sending a silent prayer to the Warrior. He would have struggled to take ten men with two hands. With one, he generally failed to beat just one soldier when he was sparring.

The head soldier sneered at him. "We're not here for you, Kingslayer. Put your sword away."

"If you're here for my brother, you're here for me."

The soldier laughed and stepped into the chambers. Jaime stepped back so that he stood in front of his brother. "Tyrion Lannister," the soldier said, ignoring Jaime. "We are arresting you for causing harm to a lady of the court."

"What?" Jaime said disbelievingly. "Where are you getting this rubbish?"

"From the Queen herself, if you'd like to take it up with her," one of the soldiers said. Jaime swore. There was no saying what the queen thought that Tyrion had done. He may have done something that she had misinterpreted. He clenched his hand around his sword.

"What has he done?" Jaime demanded. "He has a right to know what he has done." Tyrion had yet to make a sound though Jaime could no longer hear his tears.

One of the soldiers near the back let out a chuckle and Jaime turned to them. "You!" he said, brandishing his sword. "What's so funny?"

"Enough of this," the head soldier growled, batting Jaime out of the way with embarrassing ease. Truthfully, Jaime knew that there was never a chance he could have fought off all of those soldiers. Instead, he sheathed his sword and picked up his daughter, following the troupe. Looking at his daughter, he had a sudden realisation.

"It's her labour isn't it?" he called, hurrying to catch up to the front. Tyrion looked at him in alarm. "That's why the queen has had him arrested." The head guard did not say anything. His silence was enough. "She can't cope with the sound of her labour," Jaime laughed, a humourless, bitter sound. "She's mad!" he cried. "You're serving a mad queen!"

"Ser Jaime!"

The sound of King Jon's voice was as welcome as it was uncertain. Jaime turned to see him striding towards them. His kingly demeanour had much improved from his first few months as king. He had grown into the role and it suited him.

"My king," Jaime said, bowing deferentially. "I was just explaining to these fellows," he said through gritted teeth, "how the order to arrest my brother for the pain he has caused his wife in labour is an order from a mad queen."

Jaime watched as Jon's eyes fell to a silent and defeated Tyrion and then to the guards and then to Jaime. Later, Jaime would say that he saw the moment that Jon realised that enough was enough.

"Release him," the king ordered. The guards did so immediately, letting Tyrion fall to the ground. "Come, Lord Tyrion, my sister is waiting for you."

XXX

Arya watched her brother accompany the Lannister brothers down the hallway. She had been going to see them but it was far more important that Tyrion be with Sansa and Jaime would be needed with Brienne. Arya's heart twinged at the thought of not being with them too but there was something far more important that she had to do.

Daenerys had left the castle and not been seen by anybody since. Her absence had not been noted yet, thankfully, giving Arya enough time to find her and bring her back to safety, where she could be looked after, allowing Jon to continue to run the kingdoms.

Arya escaped through the tunnels beneath the keep, praying in her head to her father's gods and then her mother's gods. She didn't like Daenerys. She wished that she had stayed in Essos but she hadn't and there was nothing Arya could do to change that. She was here and she was Arya's goodsister - in every way that counted anyway - and Arya's duty to protect her family extended to her. To her life, she thought with some guilt, remembering that she had been plotting to take her throne away from her.

Arya almost wished she had brought Gendry with her. He would know the way through these streets far better than she did. She went by instinct, by which way she hoped that Daenerys would have gone. Gendry would have known which people to ask, which way led where. And he would be with her so that she was not alone, for whatever she found.

Every so often, Arya had to force away the memory of Sansa's screams. A huge part of her wanted to abandon Daenerys and go back to her real sister and hold her hand while she gave birth. She continually reminded herself, however, that she had Tyrion now, thanks to Jon, as well as Brienne and Jon. She was not alone, not like Daenerys was.

It took over an hour and it had started to rain when Arya finally stumbled upon Daenerys, down an alley. She was drawn to her by the soft sound of sobs. At the corner, Arya observed her for a moment. There was a baby whimpering in her arms and, pale, Daenerys was staring at it, sobbing, her shoulders shaking.

Arya's heart broke. She approached. "Daenerys," she said softly. The queen did not look up. As Arya drew closer, she saw that her eyes were glassy, not so much from tears. It was the sort of glassy look that Arya had seen few times before, in the eyes of Hodor, for example. Her heart rose in her throat.

"Daenerys, I'm here to help you," she continued.

"Jon," Daenerys mumbled. She was slumped against the wall and her grip upon the baby was loose. The baby was a girl, Arya finally saw. She was uncovered. Arya didn't imagine that Daenerys had thought to bring anything with her to cover her baby. Arya was quite sure that the queen had no idea that she was in labour when she left.

"Jon," Daenerys said again and her head fell to one side. Arya narrowed her eyes. She had no idea what was happening. Madness after childbirth was a symptom of something. Arya knew that much, though she wasn't sure what the disease was.

Daenerys moved her head slowly from one side to the other, leaning her head on the cool brick behind. She had yet to notice Arya, though her eyes roved the alleyway. Arya didn't like to wonder what she could see.

"Daenerys," Arya said, swallowing her fear. Finally, Daenerys' eyes snapped onto Arya's and widened.

"Jon," she cried. Arya's lips parted. "Jon, Jon," she repeated joyously, holding up the baby. Arya took her, pulling her close. Her warmth was shallow. Arya knew that she had to get the baby to a maester before it was too late, but she could not leave Daenerys here alone, like this.

Arya placed her hand on Daenerys' shoulder. If she could get her to stand up, perhaps Arya could requisition a cart to get them to the keep. Daenerys' eyes fell to the feeling of Arya's hand on her shoulder and they narrowed, following her arm up to her face.

She screamed.

And then she was shaking. Arya flinched away. Fits after childbirth. Tears pricked Arya's eyes.

The queen's arms flew out wildly each time Arya tried to pull her to her feet. It was incredibly difficult with only one arm but Arya dared not put the baby down. If she got any colder, she could die. Arya wasn't going to let her niece die.

"Okay, Daenerys," Arya murmured, "I'm going to get a cart."

Arya scurried out of the alleyway, searching her brain for the last time she had seen a cart. She looked around wildly, aware that she was being incredibly conspicuous. If only Gendry was here, if only she had paid more attention, if only she knew where each street would lead her. She couldn't risk losing Daenerys. There was every chance that she wouldn't find her again.

Gods, why hadn't she left the castle more quickly? Why hadn't she brought her own cart? Or some guards? Why hadn't she thought?

Arya stumbled back to the alleyway, the rain coming down harder and harder. When she looked down, she found precisely what she knew she would. Even so, the sight made her fall against the wall next to her.

"No," she said, leaning her temple against the wet, cool stone.

She was too late. She'd not been quick enough.

Daenerys Targaryen was dead.