It had been 4 hours since they'd finished Arya's letter. Two hours longer than any of them had expected to wait. Arya was an efficient girl and had had a significant head-start. She had cautioned them in her letter to stay behind lest they cause disruptions in her plans or distract from her mission. She did not state as much in the missive, but Jaime and Brienne both knew that she meant to execute Cersei and put an end to this war. Neither of them would be able to give Cersei's reign the end they believed it deserved but, to each of them, at least the other was safe.

Brienne believed the girl would succeed but was not certain that Arya would be able to then get away from the capital without a Lannister contingent tailing her. Jaime, frightened as ever of his sister's ferocity, had vocalized aloud only a hope that Arya might return to them in one piece, and that perhaps Tyrion could be saved; but Brienne knew that his hopes and fears ran deeper, that he would would prefer to never need to enter the city, let alone come face to face with his cruel sister again.

You are the only one
The only one that knows me

Podrick's voice rang out in the darkness, alerting the sulking couple to a cloud of dust kicking up on the southern road, barely visible in the starlight. They stood as the rider approached, and Podrick began to visibly tremble at the sight of the spector and drew his sword.

Brienne clucked her tongue as he got closer. "Lady Arya, have you taken leave of your senses?"

Podrick stammered and squinted, and when Arya removed the visage of Petyr Baelish, Podrick turned and was sick into the side of the tree.

Jaime stepped forward and held the horse as Arya dismounted, eyeing the young woman carefully. "Is it done, then?"

Brienne stood just behind him, ready to receive him should he be stirred to emotion at Arya's reply, or any news she might have of his brother. But Arya looked quizzically past him at Brienne. "Have they not arrived yet?"

"Lady Arya, you are the first soul we've seen on this road all night."

"They wouldn't have-"

Jaime grew impatient. "Is it done? Did you kill her?"

Arya's expression grew wry. "The mission was successful. The queen told the Lannister army that she's been ill, and that you will be in command when you arrive at the city."

"How did you-"

"That's not important, Ser Jaime. All you need to know is that she will not trouble you," and looking at Brienne, "or anyone else ever again."

Jaime sagged slightly. Brienne placed her hand on his shoulder and he clasped it with a sigh.

And in the dark you show me

Arya ducked past them and broke into a run, headed toward the other side of the road, shouting "Come on, now, they can't have gotten lost!"

Brienne called after her, crying "Who, Arya?" before breaking into a jog herself, leaving Jaime to hobble the horse with the others before following, as Podrick was still beside himself.

Yeah it's perfectly reckless

Nearly half of an hour remained before the sun would appear over the horizon, but that did not stop the dawn breeze from rushing up over the tall grass from the sea as Arya descended the hill toward the Duskendale wharves with Brienne close behind, watching her steps over stones and molehills with only pinpricks of orangey light at the furthest ends of the sky.

Arya stopped when she reached the wooden planks at the edge of the grass, and turned her ear to the sea, listening for Brienne knew not what, or whom. Just as she reached the girl, Arya darted right leaving Brienne nearly out of breath and staggering in her wake.

"There!"

The girl was pointing at a spot nearly thirty yards from the shore, an inky blue void that seemed only distinguishable by the slight swirling aqueous sounds that it seemed to emit. The oranges of the sky tinged in yellow, turning the blank space nearly grey or green, but it was another minute before she could see why.

Damn you leave me defenseless

Jaime stood, still on the crest of the hill, looking down at his wife standing behind the girl, and watched as she fell noisily to her knees. He cried out her name and then followed the trajectory of Arya's extended arm with his eyes, a line that led to a small wooden vessel being rowed in shadow by a man with nearly the broadest shoulders he'd ever seen. He thought it to be Sandor Clegane whom he knew had ventured out to the capital with the girl, but as he ambled down the hill to his wife the sky became even more radiant, highlighting the man's white beard in yellow, and easing from the shadows the bearded bundle before him on the bench, with a weak hand outstretched in greeting.

So break in

When he reached Brienne, Jaime fell beside her and, kissing her temple, held her tight with his good arm. He looked past Arya at the men in the boat and raised his other hand in greeting, the growing golden sunrise glancing off of the gilded limb, a beacon for Sellwyn Tarth to row toward.

The elder Tarth had been rowing for nearly four hours, having waited at the mouth of the tunnels for the sliver of moon to drop beneath the horizon before pushing Tyrion and the boat out into the bay. Carrying Tyrion down through the trap door had been difficult after some weeks of the meager rations and meager space of a cramped dungeon cell. But the alternative - climbing back up into the castle to an unknown fate and unknown foes was decidedly the worst of their options for the Stark girl had all but guaranteed them that the Iron Fleet and the Golden Company would not pose any difficulty for them on the water.

When the Golden Company had arrived on Tarth, he had given himself up easily. Not out of weakness or lack of honor as some might perceive, but the opposite; it was the pragmatic choice. His people were fishermen and stonecutters - not organized troops. His best fighters, his only living child included, had gone off to fight for King Renly's cause some years before, and almost none had returned. She, he knew, had survived Renly's rise and fall. Somehow she had then been embroiled with thieves who had tried to trade her for riches that he did not possess. And yet she had lived. In her letters from the capital sometime after, she had professed that her salvation had come indeed not from him and his proffered gold but by the hand of a Lannister. Yet when last he'd heard from his daughter she was preparing to treat with that same man's sister, who was then deemed an enemy.

Sellwyn, on his quiet green isle, admitted to himself that he did not possess the mental stamina to keep up with these constant shifts of allegiance. And it had been many years since he himself had followed a banner into battle. When the Company arrived to "escort" him to King's Landing at Cersei Lannister's behest, he donned his cloak of Tarth colors and followed them without argument. He hoped he was making the right choice, if not for himself then for his daughter, and for their people.

He had known early on that his neighboring cell had contained the diminutive Lannister - they had spent some nights discussing at length in hushed tones through the wall not only the young lion's escape plans, but his knowledge of Sellwyn's daughter, Brienne. It was the hope of seeing her again that had strengthened his arms that night, that kept him rowing almost until dawn. When he spied the small group on the dock - the smaller Stark woman who had aided their escape, and the two kneeling but still larger silhouettes, he knew immediately that his choices had not been in vain. Tyrion and his brother waved to one another, the former quite weakly; Sellwyn did not break his stride when he noticed that the taller Lannister's other arm was wound around his daughter. He only smiled.

Break in

As they reached the end of the dock, Arya reached down to collect the rope he tossed her. He then moved to gather Tyrion up to lift him, but Tyrion shook his head, turning in his seat himself, taking in the large Evenstar, and bowed his head, attempting to mutter a thank you from his swollen mouth. Sellwyn grinned in the imminent sunlight and scooped the smaller man up, depositing him onto the dock, into Jaime and the newly-joined Podrick's waiting arms.

As they carried him to the grassy hill, Brienne knelt to offer her father assistance. Sellwyn took it, squeezing her fingers, and hoisted himself out of the boat. When his daughter rose again, he put his hands on her shoulders and stood back to look at her in the blue armor that matched her eyes which now watered with relief. As the sun crested over the horizon, it struck her beautifully. His daughter was radiant in a way that only love can make someone. With a hearty chuckle of freedom he cupped her face and pressed his forehead to hers, his long beard tickling her chin as it always had when she was a child. "My starfish."

"Father!" Brienne exclaimed and chided all at once.

"You're a fish no more, I suppose."

"I was never a fish, father."

"Bah. Even so. Now you shine brighter than any star. And Tyrion tells me you're a knight, no less. You're like the sun, Brienne."

The younger Tarth blushed across her nose, observing the whiteness of his beard. "And you glow like the moon, father."

"So I do. So I do. It has been an age."

Brienne smiled and squeezed her father's hands, and then turned to glance at the party in the grass. Podrick looked up from cleaning Tyrion's face and gave her a hopeful smile which she could not help but return, but her eyes sought out Jaime who was hovering worriedly over his brother. "Jaime?"

Her husband turned, distracted and weary, muttering as he crossed to her, moving to embrace her, "I think he'll be alright but he needs a maester. He-" as if suddenly remembering the presence of his unknowing good father, he froze and took a step back, his eyes darted between his wife and the older man, "My lord," he bowed, "thank you for seeing Tyrion to safety I-"

"Ser Jaime," the elder Tarth interrupted, "I owe you more than I could ever repay for the service you did my daughter in the past. Let us not dwell on debts, though I know from speaking to your brother that they are a subject the Lannisters are keen on," he added with a grin.

Jaime stuttered and cleared his throat, with a glance at Brienne, and turning back to Sellwyn, squinting in the sunlight, "My lord, I already have of you more than I have any right to ask." He kept his eyes on the man but reached his hand out to Brienne who clasped it and stepped closer to him. Sellwyn smiled at their embrace. "Let us be agreed then that there need never be favors or debts between family."

Jaime's jaw nearly dropped but Brienne only smiled radiantly back at her father, who sighed happily and then turned toward the hill. "You there, squire-" Jaime and Brienne both made to interrupt but Podrick answered readily as he always had with an eager "Yes, milord?"

"Are there horses nearby? We need to get this man to a maester."

"Yes milord, I'll fetch them down at once." And Podrick ran off up the hill.

"One of us should ride ahead and tell the King what has happened," said Jaime, "we'll need to get a raven off to the Stormlands, or perhaps a rider?"

"I'll tell Jon."

Arya's voice had come as if out of the ether and they all looked around until they spied her, already astride her horse, up on the hill. "I'll ride ahead. Ser Jaime you need to prepare for your arrival in the capital. Your armies are expecting you. And we have much yet to do." And she was gone.

Sellwyn stared after her. "Strange woman."

A muffled but affirmative sound came from the aching Tyrion at their feet as the sun rose higher on the new world.