Author's Note: Last chapter I asked how I should post the "missing" Sanrion scene that I wrote for this story. First, I want to thank everyone for their input. It was very much appreciated. And second, guess what? Between the responses here and on AO3, the votes ended up split exactly down the middle. Lol! Which means I still have no idea what I'm going to do.

Chapter Forty

As soon as the small council meeting ended, Jaime asked for a private word with Tyrion.

Brienne cast Jaime a curious look as she rose from the table, but instead of answering her with words, he cocked his head toward the corridor, encouraging her to wait for him there. She left the room without argument, closing the door behind her and leaving Jaime alone with Tyrion.

Jaime slid over into Bronn's chair so that he could be closer to his brother. "Do you think Bran has a moment this morning for a private audience?" he asked.

Tyrion looked up from the papers he was shuffling, arching a single brow in question. "A private audience? Is there something going on that I should know about?"

"Something," Jaime replied, "but I can't say more than that until we've spoken with Bran. Do you think he will see us?"

Tyrion leaned back in his chair, watching Jaime thoughtfully, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Us? As in, you and Brienne?"

Jaime shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Yes, me and Brienne."

Tyrion's lips curved in a slow, knowing smile. "And what is this something you need to discuss with the king? It wouldn't have anything to do with a betrothal, would it?"

The heat rose in Jaime's cheeks, declaring his guilt as plainly as if he'd spoken the words himself. He and Brienne had decided to keep their betrothal a secret until they were sure that Bran would sanction the match, but Tyrion was far too shrewd for either of them to deceive for long. Clearly, he already knew the truth.

"Well?" Tyrion prompted when Jaime didn't answer. "Should I be out buying wedding gifts at this very moment? What does one get a female knight who is about to become the Lady of Casterly Rock?"

"All right," Jaime said in a harsh whisper, hoping no one would hear his confession through the closed door. "Yes, I asked Brienne to be my wife."

"Oh, so you actually took my advice for once?" Tyrion said with a laugh. "And how did that work out for you?"

"Surprisingly well, actually."

Tyrion's smile broadened. "Well, maybe you should listen to me more often then."

Jaime shook his head, unable to share in Tyrion's amusement. He was sure his worry showed on his face, and Tyrion's next question only confirmed it.

"So," Tyrion said, "if Brienne agreed to be your wife, which I'm assuming she did, then why do you look so miserable?"

"Bran."

"Bran?" Tyrion gave Jaime a quizzical look. "What does Bran have to do with any of this?"

"Nothing at the moment, but that's because Brienne and I have yet to ask him for his blessing. I fear that, when we do ask, he shall refuse our request and condemn us both to a lifetime of misery. After all, Bran isn't exactly my most ardent supporter. I pushed the boy out a window, for gods' sakes! If he has ever wanted to punish me for my sins, this is his chance.

Tyrion brushed aside Jaime's concerns with a careless wave of his hand. "You worry too much, brother. King Bran has no desire to punish you. I'm sure he will grant you and Brienne his blessing. I'm sure this is all just some part of his grand plan."

"His grand plan? Why does that sound so terribly ominous?"

"It's not ominous at all. You may not understand Bran's ways—hell, I may not understand them half the time myself—but that doesn't mean that his intentions are anything but honorable. Bran has done great things for the Six Kingdoms, and he shall continue to do great things for the Six Kingdoms well into the future."

Jaime's eyes narrowed on Tyrion. There was something he'd long wanted to know about Bran, but he'd never had occasion to ask. "Tell me something. Does Bran truly know the future? All of it? Or does he simply catch glimpses of it?"

Tyrion's smile finally faded. "Honestly? I don't quite know. I've never really known. Mostly, I just try to do what I believe is best for the people and not think about it too much. I just thank the gods that Brandon Stark has chosen to be a benevolent ruler and not a tyrant. Had he chosen tyranny, gods know, none of us would have been able to stop him."

"And yet, you're the one who appointed him king. Were you certain of his benevolence when you did so?"

Tyrion laughed awkwardly. "Not as certain as I should have been. I saw him as just a Stark then, though I know I shouldn't have, and that's what drove my decision. The Starks have always been the admirable sort, noble to a fault, and it seemed the right thing to do."

"He's not the only Stark you think highly of, is he?" Jaime said with a knowing grin. "Speaking of which, how is Queen Sansa this morning?"

A guilty blush crept into Tyrion's cheeks, and his eyes darted away from Jaime's for a single instant. Jaime was certain that Tyrion knew perfectly well how Sansa was, having just left her bedchamber an hour earlier.

"Fine, fine," Tyrion mumbled before looking at Jaime again. "Waiting on Bran to appoint a new Hand. She's eager for us to be on our way. Although she's been planning to return to Winterfell on her own all along, I know she is secretly hoping that Bran will make a decision soon so that we can travel there together."

The weight of Tyrion's words hit Jaime harder than he had expected. "And once he does, you'll be leaving King's Landing."

Tyrion nodded solemnly. "Yes. And you and I shall part company again, for gods only know how long."

Jaime wasn't ready to say goodbye to Tyrion again. They'd only been reunited for a few short months, and it simply wasn't enough. And yet, Jaime knew that Tyrion had a new life waiting for him at Winterfell, and he couldn't hold him back.

"I will miss you, brother," Jaime said, his voice heavy with regret.

"And I will miss you. But it won't be forever, I promise. And hopefully, after today, you'll be officially betrothed to Brienne of Tarth, and you'll soon return to Casterly Rock to start having sickeningly beautiful little blonde-haired babies. You'll be far too busy chasing them around the keep to miss me much."

Jaime laughed. "I hope you're right."

"I know I'm right. Now, you said you wanted an audience with Bran, yes?"

"Yes. As soon as possible."

"Well, I suppose since this is such an important matter, that can be arranged."

A half hour later, Jaime and Brienne stood in the corridor outside Bran's solar, waiting for word from Tyrion. He had disappeared behind the door ten minutes earlier and had yet to reemerge.

"What do you think is going on in there?" Jaime asked as he nervously paced the floor.

"I would imagine that Tyrion and King Bran have much to discuss this morning and that our request is just one among many. I'm sure it's not a sign that anything's gone wrong, just that they have other matters to attend to."

Jaime stopped. He inhaled a grounding breath and looked up at Brienne, marveling at her composure. "How can you be so calm at a time like this?"

"What would you have me do? Pace the floor like a soldier's wife waiting for her husband to come home from war? I am Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. I have an obligation to be in control of my emotions at all times."

"I suppose you think, as Master of War, I should be under the same obligation."

The hint of a smile curved Brienne's lips. "Well, now that you mention it."

Jaime fought back a laugh. He straightened his spine and squared his shoulders, trying to project an air of complete control. Just as he'd mastered it, the door to Bran's solar opened and Tyrion stepped out into the hallway.

"The king will see you now," he said in his most official sounding tone.

Jaime searched Tyrion's face, looking for any clue as to what had gone on between him and Bran, but Tyrion remained stoic, and that made Jaime fear the worst.

Tyrion moved aside, allowing Jaime and Brienne to enter Bran's chamber. Once they crossed the threshold, Tyrion closed the door behind them, leaving them alone with their king.

Bran sat behind a large desk on the opposite side of the room, looking as emotionless as ever. The moment his eyes met Jaime's, a shiver ran down Jaime's spine and his whole body flushed cold. Although Tyrion believed in Bran's benevolence, Jaime was still unconvinced.

Jaime and Brienne approached Bran with cautious steps. When they reached his desk, they both stopped, waiting for Bran to address them. It felt like ages before he finally broke the silence.

"Lord Tyrion tells me that you would like a private word with me. Please, sit and make your petition."

Jaime waited for Brienne to be seated before he lowered himself down into one of the chairs across from Bran. He held his breath for a moment, trying to calm his frayed nerves. This was it, their one chance to convince Bran to let them wed. Jaime hoped—no, he prayed—that Bran had truly forgiven him and did not intend to subject him to a lifetime of torture for his sins.

Jaime cleared his throat, every nerve in his body quivering with anxiety. "This may or may not come as a surprise to you, but Brienne and I wish to marry, and we've come to seek your blessing."

"Of course you have."

The air stilled in Jaime's lungs, the certainty of Bran's pronouncement taking his breath away. It took Jaime a moment to reply, but finally, he found his voice again. "Brienne and I have declared our intentions to each other," he said, resisting the urge to reach out and take her hand, "and we are hoping that you will allow us both to resign our posts and retire to Casterly Rock."

Bran was quiet for a long time, the atmosphere growing heavy around them. Jaime cast a quick glance in Brienne's direction, finding her face etched with worry. He wished he could reassure her, promise her that everything was going to be all right, but there was nothing he could do to ease her fears or his own.

When Jaime finally turned back to Bran, he found the king staring at Brienne, his gaze hollow and fathomless.

"And you, Lord Commander?" Bran said. "Is this truly what you want? Are you willing to give up everything you've worked for to be Jaime Lannister's wife?"

Jaime looked at Brienne again, his eyes fixing on her face. Although he already knew her answer, he was still nervous.

Brienne pulled back her shoulders and sat up a little taller. Without a hint of hesitation, she said, "I am, Your Grace."

"Then so be it," Bran replied. "You have my blessing."

Jaime's heart thudded against his ribs, and he turned disbelieving eyes to Bran. "Just . . . just like that?"

"Would you prefer that I deny you? Because it is within my power to do so, though I can't imagine what purpose it would serve."

"But . . . but after everything I did—"

"I told you long ago, Jaime Lannister, I am no longer Brandon Stark and I harbor no anger towards you or anyone else. I have no interest in revenge."

Jaime stared at Bran for a long moment, unable to speak. He hadn't expected it to be so easy. All those months ago, when he and Bran had met beneath the heart tree at Winterfell, Bran had told him that he felt no anger toward him, but Jaime had refused to believe it. Now, however, the truth was undeniable. King Bran the Broken had abandoned the past long ago, and he harbored no resentment against Jaime or anyone else.

"I . . . I don't know what to say," Jaime practically stammered.

"Don't say anything. All the arrangements have already been made. You and Lady Brienne shall be wed in a fortnight."

"In a fortnight?" Jaime could scarcely believe it.

"Yes. Unless, of course, you think that's too soon."

Jaime shook his head. "No, no, it's not too soon. But does this mean that you've known all along that we would come to ask for your blessing to wed?"

"I am the Three-eyed Raven. I know all. I knew this day would come long before you returned to King's Landing. I have been preparing for it since I became king."

"What do you mean by 'preparing for it?'" Brienne asked, skirting forward to the edge of her chair.

"Why do you think I changed the vows for the Kingsguard?" Bran answered. "Because I knew that someday you would need to be free to follow Lord Jaime to Casterly Rock."

"But . . . but why? Forgive me, Your Grace, but I don't understand why this is all so important. Why would you change the vows just for me?"

"But it wasn't just for you," Bran replied. "It was for your children and for the future of Westeros. It was for all the present and future members of the Kingsguard. Things needed to change in order for the Six Kingdoms to thrive again. The old ways were no longer working, and your own plight only proves that. This is what's best for the realm, and that is all that concerns me. You and Lord Jaime will marry and bear heirs for House Lannister and House Tarth. Lord Tyrion will soon be headed north to marry my sister, and they will produce their own heirs for Houses Lannister and Stark, and we shall soon be well on our way to founding new dynasties."

Jaime was unable to stay silent a moment longer. "But isn't that what started all the trouble in the first place?" he asked.

"Would you rather see the great houses die out? Because if they do, other men—lesser men—will take up the mantle of leadership and the Six Kingdoms shall be lost."

"Just imagine," Brienne said to Jaime, "if Winterfell and Casterly Rock were ruled over by men like Bronn of the Blackwater. Westeros would soon be overrun with taverns and brothels."

Jaime couldn't argue with Brienne's logic, nor could he argue with Bran. Even though it was difficult for Jaime to accept Bran's generosity, it seemed he had no choice. Bran had chosen to be merciful, and now, there was nothing standing between Jaime and true happiness.

Jaime's emotions suddenly threatened to overwhelm him. He couldn't remember the last time he had been so happy, and he could feel tears stinging the backs of his eyes. He inhaled a slow, calming breath, refusing to show weakness in front of his king. "I thank you, Your Grace. For giving me a second chance and for allowing me to marry Brienne. I know I don't deserve your kindness, nor her love, but I will not turn my back on either."

Bran nodded but made no reply. Instead, he turned his attention to Brienne and said, "I have charged Lord Tyrion with making the necessary arrangements for the wedding. Since the Great Sept of Baelor is still being rebuilt, you may use the royal sept here at the keep. It will be a small affair, but valid all the same. Once you are wed, you will both be free to resign your posts and leave for Casterly Rock as soon as you please."

"And what about the small council?" Jaime asked. "Surely, you can't do without a Master of War, a Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, and your Hand."

Bran looked at Jaime again. "I assure you, I will do just fine without all three. Although the council often offers me advice, the truth is, I already know what will happen in the future, and I don't require anyone's counsel."

"Then why even have advisors?"

"Because it makes people feel better. It makes them feel as if they have some control over the future."

"And you're saying they don't?"

"None of us do. Not even me. I am merely an observer, and I act accordingly when I must."

Jaime had never heard anything more unsettling in his entire life, but he didn't have the heart to delve any deeper, fearing what he might find.

"I see that you are still concerned," Bran said when Jaime didn't reply. "You needn't be. Once you leave, Ser Davos shall be appointed Hand of the King and Gendry Baratheon shall be named Lord Commander of the Kingsguard."

"And what about Podrick?" Jaime asked, surprised that Bran would pass over Brienne's former squire for the position.

"Podrick shall have his day, but now is not the time."

"I beg your pardon," Jaime said as respectfully as he could, "but Lord Commander of the Kingsguard seems an odd position for someone like Lord Gendry. He's not a knight, and he has little military experience. Do you really trust him with the White Cloaks?"

"He's a quick learner, and he will be a good foil for the future Master of War."

"And who will that be?"

Bran's lips spread in a thin smile, the first genuine smile Jaime had seen on his face in nearly a decade. "My sister, of course."

"Queen Sansa?"

Brienne laughed, and Jaime's eyes darted in her direction.

"What's so funny?" he asked.

"I think he means Lady Arya."

Jaime looked at Bran again. The smile was gone from his face, but it was clear that Brienne had understood his meaning a lot better than Jaime had.

"Yes, I mean Lady Arya," Bran said.

Jaime was more than a little surprised by Bran's reply. "But isn't she on the other side of the world, fighting sea monsters or something?"

"For now."

Jaime was shocked by what a conniving little matchmaker Brandon Stark had turned out to be. He had arranged for Sansa and Tyrion to be married, and now, he was orchestrating his younger sister's betrothal as well. For the longest time, Jaime had doubted that there was any humanity left in Brandon Stark. But now, he wasn't so sure. Bran seemed to take some secret kind of pleasure in manipulating those around him, though he swore he wasn't doing anything of the sort.

"If there is nothing else," Bran said without any preamble, "then I shall bid you both good day."

Jaime and Brienne both rose. After a few polite words of goodbye, they turned and left the room together, not a word spoken between them. Jaime's heart was racing, and he felt as if he were floating on air. Although he had expected the worst when he had first entered Bran's solar, now, he could barely contain his happiness. He and Brienne were officially betrothed, and it wouldn't be long until they were finally husband and wife.