Day by day, things in the Red Keep go back to normal. As Jaime never shared a thing about the killer aside from 'theories' regarding 'possible' motivations, the Kingsguard is empty-handed, and so is the City's Watch. King Robert declares life must go on, and the court slowly goes out of their quarantine. Investigation days grow fewer and fewer and routine schedules are gradually resumed.
Still, Jaime has one of these days, which he uses to go to the docks. After a few seemingly casual conversations, he finds out there are ships to Tarth once a fortnight and how much it costs to get in one—a price he can very well afford.
As he makes his way back to the castle, he wonders how he can get Brienne out of the tunnels and deliver her to the docks without anyone noticing. She uses a white mask that will certainly draw attention in daylight, so nighttime is preferable. However, ships to Tarth leave by early morning, meaning he must either find a place for her to stay or wait until near sunrise to take her out.
That isn't the most complicated part, though. Okay, he gets her on the ship; how does he get her out? For all he knows, Brienne will just ask the captain to work for his crew instead of stepping foot on her birth island. Part of him argues she is free to do it if she so desires, and while that part of him is technically right, he also knows she's denying herself the choice of going back—she doesn't really think of it as an option.
So how to make sure she reaches Tarth and, at least, glance at her former home? His first option is to go along, but he has no excuse to go there, especially as Kingsguard. But how else? The only other option would be to trust someone else with the information that Brienne Tarth is alive, but she wishes all of court dead—
He nearly falters on his step. She has never mentioned Renly Baratheon, he realizes, and he is her father's liege lord. That's perfect! If she indeed has nothing against the young man, he's the best person to be informed about her and the one person who has any reason to go to the island. He smiles to himself, uncaring of what people will think of him.
Cersei calls for him and tries to get him into her bed, but he claims to still be wary of the ghost. She pouts, but eventually concedes and dismisses him—rather coldly, but he's willing to pay that price to spare her life. It is only when he goes back to his post that he realizes he has thought more about Brienne than his twin over the last month.
Oh, well. He has plenty of reasons for it. No need to dwell on the matter.
Speaking of Brienne… he grins to himself at the idea he had earlier in the day. If she agrees, he wants to take her to a… secret garden, so to speak. It's a forest-like area in the castle's surroundings, near the entrance he's been using to meet her. Nobody will catch them, and she can see the outside world without fear of being seen and insulted at.
She killed your father, a Cersei-like voice reminds him. Why are you concerned about her, why are you trying to make her life any better? You should have killed her long ago.
She is just like you, a Tyrion-like voice replies to that. She did things that look horrible at first glance, but completely justified when you bother to look further. You can't be bothered to be called Kingslayer if you afford her the same treatment everyone you hate gives you. Besides… Did you really mourn your father?
No, he didn't. The announcement that the Kingsguard would spend several days at a time working to find the assassin bothered him way more than Father's death. It's a terrible thought, but the truth nonetheless. Brienne did not kill anyone he truly cared about, in the end, which is why he still finds himself willing to help her.
There is also the fact that she sparks… something in him. Something that had been dormant for so long, he thought it to be dead. He knows helping her go back home is the right thing to do, and he wants to do the right thing, regardless of how people will react to it. Most likely, his good deed will go unacknowledged, which is already an improvement from the daily scorn he gets for saving King's Landing from wildfire.
Sending Brienne home won't earn him any praise or glory, but for once he doesn't care about meeting anyone's expectations, or even subverting them. It's liberating, and he wants to hold on to that feeling while he can.
"It's a terrible idea," Brienne says halfway through his proposal. "I shouldn't get out. We shouldn't be seen together."
"But we won't," he replies. "If you had just let me finish… The way to this garden is all within the castle's gates, and it's an area no one bothers to look around."
She shakes her head. "Why do you want to go there so much?"
"It's a full moon tonight. The moonlight will make it better for training, and… you said you wanted to walk out under the sun. I can't give you that, but I'd like for you to walk out under the moon."
She goes still for a while. He wishes he could see her face, but her soft voice is enough for him. "Alright. Lead the way."
He reaches for her free hand, hoping she doesn't take advantage of the moment to kill him. She has yet to voice her judgement on Aerys, so he doesn't know whether his name is crossed off her list or not—which is probably why the feel of her hand in his sends small shocks through his arm, and his heart skips a few beats as he guides her out of the tunnels.
The night sky is particularly pretty at this time. He turns around and catches sight of her looking up. Even with her huge mask on, he can see her mouth is hanging open. His heart squeezes at the sight; when did she last look up to the sky?
Soon they reach the secret garden. Untouched by anyone, it's full of winding trees and interlaced branches. An exquisite mess, if he's honest with himself.
This time, when they begin their sparring, he makes real corrections, although he makes an effort not to contradict previous instructions. If everything goes according to plan, she won't be around to kill anybody soon, so there is no harm in teaching her right.
"You're more attentive tonight," she comments quietly when they take a pause.
He glances away. Is it possible that she realized his slack and purposeful misteachings? "I'm seeing you better tonight," he says as a way of explanation.
She hums, and he's sure she bought the excuse. Taking the opportunity, he asks, "So, what is your verdict about me?"
She toys with her sword, looking down. After a short while, she answers. "It would be wrong to execute you for kingslaying, when the other option was kinslaying." A deep breath. "There still is the incest, though, and the scheme to pass your children as heirs to the throne."
"That is Cersei's scheme, not mine," he spats without second thought. Then, a bit more softly. "But I'm glad you understood about Aerys—"
"What do you mean, it's not your scheme?", she asks abruptly, cutting him off. "You fathered those children, and yet you deny—"
He scoffs. "I provided the seed," he argues, "but nothing more. Joffrey, Tommen and Myrcella don't really have a father. Robert doesn't care about them, and Cersei doesn't let me near them, not even as an uncle. I'm not overly fond of having Joffrey—or any of them—sitting on that damn chair, but Cersei loves the idea of ruling through her son." He huffs. "If you kill Robert before either of them, she might kiss you in thanks."
She visibly startles at that. He is about to apologize for his outburst, but she composes herself quickly, so he bites the apology off. "Well, good to know," she says simply, then calls to resume their training.
Another hour later, they stop again, and he takes the new opportunity. "Lady Brienne… Is there any reason you did not include Renly Baratheon on the kill list you gave me?"
She stops whatever she was doing and raises her head at him and—oh, the wonders of the full moon. He can see her blushing. It spreads down to her neck and her chest, clearly continuing under her shirt. With great effort, he suppresses a smirk and waits for her reply.
She doesn't disappoint. "I told you I was mistreated in court, didn't I?" He nods. "I… one day—a day before Gal and I came to the tunnels—I was in the yard, watching the knights and squires practice. The… younger boys started picking on me—my size, my ugliness, everything they could notice. I wanted to cry, but then Lord Renly showed up, reprimanded them and comforted me with sweet words. I…
"You've fancied him ever since," he finishes for her. She nods, looking down, deflated. "Do you always look this unhappy when you love?"
"Yes, Ser Jaime," she replies, a bit harshly but not too much so, "when I love and I'm unsure of being loved—which is always."
Well, that's the best opening he could ask for. "It doesn't have to be that way," he replies. "I can't give you Renly's love, but I can give you freedom."
She raises her head back to him. "How?"
"It's rather convenient that you fancy your father's liege lord," he explains, grinning. "I've found out about ships from here to Tarth. With Renly's help, I can sneak you inside one, and you can go back home. Brienne—you never saw your father after you were reported as dead. He was making such a damn effort not to cry, it'd be better if he had. You are missed."
"My brother is missed," she spats, "not me. He has no reason to miss me, the biggest failure a man could ever have for a daughter."
He shakes his head. "Unless you father is like mine, I assure you he misses both of you, and having one of you back would give him great joy. Don't deny yourself a home because people have unreasonably mistreated you—"
"Nobody mistreated me unreasonably," she cuts him off.
"Everyone has," he retorts. "No child should be insulted to the point she can't see any worth in herself—"
The rest of his sentence is lost as she turns to the side and takes her mask off. "Look at me," she hisses. "Look at me and tell me there is no reason for people to shun me out."
Shocked, he is powerless to do anything else but look. Under the moonlight, it's easy to make out her features: her hair is a lighter shade of blonde than his, her face is peppered with freckles, there are scars all over her cheeks and a huge one on her forehead, her nose has clearly been broken (probably more than once), her lips are the fullest he's ever seen…
...And her eyes are the most astonishing he's ever landed his eyes on. Big, blue as sapphires and, although sad, enchanting. They glimmer with unshed tears, which only heightens their beauty. They render him frozen in place, awestruck.
Why does she hide her eyes? No one who saw them would ever call her ugly.
He doesn't know how long he stares at her, but it seems it was for longer than acceptable, for tears begin to fall as she puts the mask back on. "You understand perfectly now," she says, although it should be a question, not a statement. "Excuse me, Ser."
She runs to where they came from. He tries to catch her, but, when he enters the tunnels, she's nowhere to be found.