Her first month in the Red Keep is somewhat peaceful. Queen Rhaella and Prince Viserys are reclusive but kind; the Queen even explains to her how Kingsguard working shifts usually work, something Jaime forgot to say when he went to her tent before her departure.
Of course, such tranquil hours makes her mind drift to him. Is he taking advantage of the new opportunities presented to him, now that he's out? Is he enjoying his time with Cersei before they get separated again—
Even if I wanted to be with her, he said. There is no other word to interpret his words: he doesn't want to be with his sister. Why, though, if he went back for her in his first life?
The question plagues her waking hours. Jaime's behavior in this lifetime doesn't match his last actions. He begged her to run away with him to Essos to escape the Kingsguard because he didn't want her to face the horrors he did. Before that, he fought with all of himself against her when they faced each other in the mock melee, clearly determined to win. She doubted he was eager to return to the Kingsguard, but apparently he'd do it if it meant she escaped that fate.
Why? Because he is 'already hateful', as he told her as soon as they met in Harrenhal? It occurs to her that maybe he thinks it's futile to change history. But we already did, she thinks. Brienne's presence at the tourney alone changed things; her knighting, done two decades earlier, and her admission to the Kingsguard will certainly be remembered for generations, if only because she's a woman.
Jaime's marriageable status is also bound to change the course of events. A married Jaime is one that stays in Casterly Rock, likely fated to never see his twin again—even if Cersei doesn't marry Rhaegar, as planned, she will definitely be sent away from her ancestral home. No bastard children posing as legitimate heirs to the throne, no War of the Five Kings. Her path won't cross Jaime's ever again.
I pray that you never have the misfortune of seeing me again, he said, as if she had been the one who chose to walk away. Frankly, she can't understand him. One moment he is all but running away from her, the other he is reaching out for her desperately, as if his life depended on her.
Is it an effect of his death? Tyrion's letter stated he found his siblings' bodies under the castle's fallen debris. Had he taken a hit to his head, which carried on to his new life? This current Jaime barely resembles the one who fucked her in Winterfell. In that month, he looked… happy. Satisfied. Relaxed. Stable.
She can't help but worry for him. What happened to you, Jaime? It's a futile concern; gods know if they'll ever see each other again. Probably not, unless he comes to visit his father and sister in the capital—meaning their paths would probably not cross. Still, her heart refuses to put the matter to rest.
Then, the royal party comes back. Her first realization is that, unlike Jaime's report, Prince Rhaegar is among them, alongside his wife and children—a small girl and a newborn. Either his memory failed him that night, or something happened to change that fact as well.
Speaking of Jaime, he is on everyone's tongues. Soon she finds out he won against Rhaegar in the final tilt and crowned Princess Rhaenys, instead of a grown up lady, as Queen of Love and Beauty. Cersei's porcelain smile falls a bit every time the crowning is brought up. She expected him to crown her, she thinks. Why didn't he? Once again, his claim that he did not want to be with her comes to mind.
Perhaps he didn't crown her to avoid raising suspicion… But no, it doesn't make sense. He's a Lannister, not a Targaryen; Cersei would actually be the safest choice if he didn't want to pick a lady to supposedly court, safer even than a married woman. The only plausible explanation would be a genuine lack of interest. Or maybe they had a fight, and he's being difficult. Perhaps this is how their relationship works: inciting jealousy on one another to heat things up. Jaime sought her out for the first time because he was jealous of Tormund—nevermind she always made her disinterest clear. Perhaps the language he spoke in bed was one of jealousy and possessiveness. You stole her toy, and she doesn't like to share.
That's it, she concludes. He and Cersei are playing games. Was it not what she did when she told me I loved him at their son's wedding? With that in mind, she focuses on the next question: does Cersei remember her?
She hopes not; facing Jaime with his memories intact was painful enough. She saw enough of her in King's Landing and heard more than enough from Sansa to know how vicious she can be. If she thinks hard enough, she can still hear her screams following King Joffrey's death. Hells, she blew up the Sept of Baelor!
How could Jaime ever think he and his sister are remotely alike? While it's true that Jaime did horrible things, one look at the motivations behind his actions can show that they do not define him. Is she to be defined by the day she killed three Stark men in cold blood? By the day she bit off the Hound's ear? By the day she failed to save Renly's life? Those days haunt her still, but she knows they do not make her who she is. The same applies—or should apply—to Jaime, no?
For better or for worse, she doesn't have much time to dwell on those things, for when Aerys arrives, her nightmare begins.
How did no one interfere to stop this? How is it possible that only Jaime had the sense to put an end to this madness?
These questions make her head spin. Jaime wasn't exaggerating when he said the Mad King was obsessed with wildfire, and it would hurt her to watch him—or rather, to watch his delight at seeing people being burned alive with it for the slightest suspicion of treason.
Yet everyone seems to turn a blind eye. They let him burn his perceived enemies, even the most innocent. In the name of the Mother, I charge you to defend the innocent. She remembers when she was first knighted, and Jaime nearly faltered at that last sentence. They knew what those specific vows meant to him, what he sacrificed to fulfill them.
Every time someone burns, every time she stands by the door as Rhaella screams for help, she feels like a failure. How do any of them handle this? She wonders as she looks for any reaction on her sworn brothers' faces, only to find none. How do they live with themselves?
She avoids talking to them; she doesn't know what to say, and none of them seem to know what to make of her. One day, though, Ser Arthur Dayne approaches her in the yard. "I considered taking you as a squire," he says out of the blue.
She frowns, but says nothing. "My other pupil suggested it," he continues. "You know him. Ser Jaime, the one you defeated." She tries not to falter at the words. Jaime told the Sword of the Morning he should take her as squire? He must have hit his head really hard before dying. "When I saw you in the melee, I made up my mind: yes, I'd take you. I made the youngest knight in history, why not keep the trend and knight the first woman in history as well? But Jaime beat me to it."
Yes, twice. "I'm honored that you thought about it, Ser," she manages to say.
He is not fooled, though. "Are you, though? Frankly, you don't seem to want to be near any of us."
She lowers her gaze to the ground. How to explain her distance without outing herself? "I don't know what to say," she decides on, eventually. "We all… see the same things, guard the same people. I have nothing to say that you don't know already, and I'm not sure I should say it out loud."
Silence. She keeps her eyes on the ground. "Clever girl," he says after a while. She snaps her gaze up to him. He's grinning. "You may survive this yet."
Only because the King won't, she thinks. Not for long.
She quickly finds out Cersei did not insert herself as Princess Elia's handmaidens, even after one of them left the capital to get married. Ashara Dayne is her name, and she is to marry Eddard Stark—who is not heir to Winterfell (at least, not yet). Brienne can't remember whether this betrothal happened in her first life or not. Ashara's name is foreign to her, actually; House Dayne died out years before the Long Night, and, as a stormlander, she never cared much to learn about them—except for their sword Dawn and its wielders.
Her attempts to seduce Rhaegar are discreet, but noticeable to anyone who bothered to look. She takes him to strolls in the gardens, arm in arm, with the sweetest voice she can muster—sweeter than Brienne ever heard her. It sounds dangerous, but if the Crown Prince shares her opinion, he doesn't show.
However, she is not sweet with Brienne. "Ser Brienne of Tarth," she all but hisses one day, while they wait for the prince to return from his privy. "It must be an honor for your House. The first female knight, the first female Kingsguard… I do wonder, though. What drove you to the chainmail instead of a dress?"
She isn't subtle; her eyes travel up and down her body as she talks. Brienne still can't make out whether this Cersei is truly a young girl or a grown up woman. "Tarth needs to be protected as well as any other place in this realm," she replies, the excuse one she practiced many times over for situations like this. "When I realized I could learn to fight as well as any man, I felt duty bound to defend my home."
It is far, far from the truth, but Cersei hums as if believing her. If she does, she truly doesn't remember me. "It is… very diligent of you. Very responsible." What? No, it's impossible; she could not have known these were the words Jaime told her before their first kiss, their first night together. There wouldn't have been time to talk about it in King's Landing, desperate as they likely were to escape. Unless they rekindled here, she thinks, and he told her all about me as a joke.
Taking a deep breath, she remains silent. She goes on. "Your father must be proud of you," Cersei goes on. "Or not. After all, you were his sole heir, right?"
"There are other Tarths," she replies, "if my father does not sire other heirs." It is not a lie, not really, but her last other relative is in the Wall—her uncle Endrew, who is only slightly younger than her father.
Any possible reply is swallowed when the prince comes back.
The days and months pass in a blur. The burnings go on, as Queen Rhaella's helpless screams. Ser Arthur is the only who approaches her for a spar, and their talks are brief. Her path rarely crosses Lord Varys' or Tywin Lannister's, much to her relief, and instead she guards Princess Elia and her children often enough to relieve her pain from watching over Aerys.
They receive news of the wedding between Brandon Stark and Catelyn Tully, and her heart squeezes at the mention of her former liege lady, the one who brought her and Jaime together. A raven from Casterly Rock announces that Tyrion was sent to Riverrrun for fostering, while Edmure Tully was to squire for the Hand's brother, Ser Kevan. Later, another missive announces Robert Baratheon's wedding to Lyanna Stark, and yet another informs the crown of Eddard Stark's wedding to Ashara Dayne.
No mention of a wedding between Jon Arryn and Lysa Tully, or between Jaime and any lady.
Cersei does her best to worm her way into Prince Rhaegar's bed while taunting her—although Brienne's suspicions that she remembers her other life are slowly dismissed, as she does nothing but taunt her, something the other Cersei would not content herself with if Jaime's words are true.
She's replayed their meeting in the dragonpit countless times by now. Then, she paid little to no attention to Cersei's reaction—but Jaime's eyes when he dismissed her said he did, and was acting accordingly.
I went to Winterfell because—He never finished his sentence, and she never asked. Why, indeed? He risked his life not only on the road, but by coming right to the castle whose owners held several grudges against him, who bowed to a queen who wanted nothing more than to burn him alive… for a pledge he never really made, not out loud. It was his sister who promised her army, but it was him who rode North, completely alone. Why?
So many questions… Did I ever know Jaime at all?
Then one day, she wakes up from her reprieve day to find out Prince Rhaegar has gone missing, along with Ser Arthur, Ser Oswell—and Cersei.
Her heart threatens to leap out of her throat. No, no, no, she thinks as she hurries to the throne room. History cannot be repeating itself, it cannot!
And yet, when she arrives, here Tywin Lannister is, angrily demanding a search party for his daughter, just like Brandon Stark demanded his sister back (according to the tales, at least). And, just like the first time, Aerys punishes him for his insolence, and she watches him burn until there is nothing but ashes and blackened bones.
And then, to add a cherry on top, the Mad King demands both of Lord Tywin's sons to come and answer for their father's crimes with their heads.
She rushes out of the room before she is noticed, running to the rookery. There, she writes a quick note. Jaime, history is repeating itself, but with your House instead of the Starks. Rhaegar is gone with your sister, and your father was burned alive. Aerys demands both yours and Tyrion's heads.
The raven flies away, and she slips out before the maester returns to write the formal announcement.