Their declarations of love interrupted, Brienne and Jaime clung to each other and ran to the window just as another shower of blazing arrows sailed over the roof of the Keep. The peaceful calm that had promised to serenade their passionate reconciliation was shattered by the blasts of a surprise attack, and Galladon's screams of terror having been jolted from his sleep. From over the castle wall, each explosive bombardment illuminated a thick fog which concealed the enemy fleet anchored in Blackwater Bay. Although it was difficult to make out the low prows and bright triangular sails of the Essosi ships, a few could be seen close to the shore. The accounts which Tyrion had received from his spies had indeed been correct. An invasion force was laying siege to the Red Keep.
Brienne's chest heaved with alarm, as realization dawned. "Our scout vessels?" She gasped, her questioning stare turning to Jaime. "Tyrion assured us they would send word of an impending attack." She could not hide the fear in her voice.
Jaime's blood ran cold. "They must have destroyed every ship in our fleet." He replied chillingly.
As if to accompany his father's dire words, Galladon's shrill cry split the tense foreboding which filled the air. Brienne's anxious glare darted in the direction of her son's wailing, and then raced back to Jaime's own worried eyes, capturing them in her dread-filled stare. They had been so close to seeing their babe to safety. Now he was trapped, in the midst of a siege.
Pulling Brienne to her full height, Jaime stood and centered himself, ready for not only battle but to ensure the safety of those he loved. "Armor yourself." He ordered. "And bring our child." He bid Brienne commandingly.
Unconcerned with arguing rank at such a time, Brienne complied quickly. She rushed into her bedchamber to dress and gather Galladon. Jaime turned pensively back to the window as she left his side, studying the commotion unfolding below.
Breathlessly Brienne hurried to quiet Galladon in his cradle. She bent to calm him, laying a kiss upon his forehead, and speaking soft affirmations to him. Then for a moment, she studied her babe. Breath froze in her lungs, and tears came to her eyes. She did not know if these would be her last moments with him. She could not even now be certain any of them would live through the night. For the first time, she regretted ever accepting the commission as Lord Commander. Had it now cost her son's life?
Almost in answer, she heard Jaime's directive of only moments before. Somehow his presence in her mind stilled her worry. She could not believe that the Gods would have brought them through so much only to separate them now. She had to believe that The Seven would see them through this as well. Quickly, she pulled on trousers and tunic, and suited herself into her armor. In a flash of trepidation Brienne whirled around, searching frantically. Her mind tried in vain to remember where she had left the item for which she searched. Running to her wardrobe, she flung the door open and rifled through its contents, dumping half the garments to the floor.
At last, she pulled her blue dress tunic from the pile of garments within the large chest. Her eyes grew melancholy as she regarded the proud sigil of her own house stitched upon the thick woven fabric. She prayed the celestial bodies that had guarded House Tarth through the years would keep her child safe through the night. Without another moment of hesitatation, as The Keep was rocked by another blast, Brienne grabbed a dagger from within a drawer and used the weapon to tear the Sigil from the tunic. Slamming down the knife, she rushed back to Galladon and lifted the babe into her arms. Wrapping him in the warm quilt she had placed around his cradle to spend the night in warm comfortable slumber, she tucked the Sigil patch deep into the blanket. She hoped that someone would see him safely to her father if they became separated. It would at least identify him as being of House Tarth, should the worst happen. She swallowed the thought hard, and told herself it was merely for luck.
As she moved to leave, Jaime appeared in the doorway. "Hurry. We don't have much time." He called to her urgently. "Give him to me." Jaime bid, handing her Oathkeeper and taking Galladon from her grasp. Brienne tied her sword belt at her waist as she, Jaime, and their child ran from the Lord Commander's quarters and stepped into the uncertainty of the night.
Outside the night sky was glowing a haunting orange. Neither Brienne nor Jaime could ignore the ominous memories of Winterfell which plagued their thoughts. The courtyard of The Red Keep was already strewn with debris from the first waves of assault, the energies of those who rushed to meet the onslaughts was descending into chaotic commotion. Brienne and Jaime knew they were needed in the effort, but first they had to see their child to safety.
The air was already filling with the thick smoke of the burning straw, wood, and flesh caught alight by the flaming arrows. Jaime held Galladon tightly to his chest, trying to shield the babe from the noxious fumes. Frantically they ran along the edges of the buildings, Jaime and Brienne protecting their son with their own bodies as each successive attack of blazing projectiles flew over their heads. It was as she leaned against Jaime, that Brienne realized the level of danger in which he had placed himself.
"Jaime." Brienne gasped, her eyes horrified. "Your armor!" She shuttered, grabbing his arm. In his haste to see to her and to Galladon, he had not seen to his own protection. He would stand against the ferocity of the enemy in only his tunic and trousers.
Jaime shook off her concern without a thought for himself. "There is no time." He shouted over the rising din of the ensuing battle. "Come on!" He urged, taking Brienne's hand and using a lull in the bombardment to rush across the courtyard, yelling orders to those men he commanded as he went.
As they traversed the Serpentine Steps, Jaime spotted the Grand Maester hurrying toward the Rookery. "Tarly!" He bellowed at the top of his lungs.
Samwell stopped dead in his trackers and spun around to meet Jaime's summons just as a fiery volley crashed through the roof of the armory. "Ser Jaime." Sam returned, nervously. "What is it I can do for you?" He questioned, preoccupied. There would soon be wounded who would need tending.
Wasting no time, Jaime bounded over to Samwell, Galladon wrapped safely in his arms, and Brienne following closely upon his heels, her eyes wide and alert. "Fetch your family, and meet us at the Barbican." He demanded, nodding toward the main gate of the Red Keep. "There is no time to lose." He needlessly reminded.
Samwell's expression grew even more dire than it had been. "I need to see to the men." He answered, without thought to Jaime's rank. He had been anxiously enroute to ensure Gilly and their children were well shielded, but knew his duties would afford him few more chances to check upon them.
"Do it!" Jaime howled, his face desperate with insistence.
Samwell jumped at his tone, as if Jaime might run him through with another word. "Yes, Ser." He complied and hurried away to gather Gilly and their young ones.
Brienne eyed Jaime in confusion. "The Barbican?" She questioned. Brienne understood that it was the farthest point in The Keep from the attack, but was unsure why Jaime had ordered Samwell and his family to accompany them there. She had assumed they would try to secure Galladon in The Throne Room with the King and his servants, where the castle would be most fortified. She would be engaged commanding the guard, but at least she would be nearby, and Podrick would be there. Jaime said nothing, but grabbed her hand and continued his progress toward the far side of the Keep.
As they neared the stables, Jaime's stride quickened. Even amidst the dark clamor he almost seemed to brighten as he headed directly for an a fully hitched wagon that someone had abandoned in favor of either cover or courage. Brienne gave a worried sigh somewhere between anxiety and relief as she began to realize Jaime's plan. She understood now, that he had decided upon a course to get their son out of the city.
Quickly, Jaime handed their now terrified and squalling baby to Brienne. He grabbed the reigns that had been only loosely tied around a post, and quieted the skittish horse which was nonetheless spooked by the pandemonium that surrounded it. Jaime helped Brienne climb over the wagon's tall wooden sideboards and settle upon the seat, as she held Galladon close to her. He pulled on the leads. The horse balked, refusing to move. Wrapping the thick leather straps around his handless arm, Jaime tore off his gambeson, and positioned it over the horse's eyes. He was at last able to coax the horse, now calmed and shielded from the tumult, to move along his intended path.
Cutting their way through the burning rubble, Jaime somehow led the frightened horse across the courtyards of the Red Keep, Brienne in the wagon, shielding their child with her own body. Together they breathed a wary sigh of relief when at last the Barbican loomed ahead of them. As Jaime brought the wagon to a halt under the still open gate, Samwell Tarly called anxiously to him. The Master of War and the Lord Commander turned to see Sam and Gilly, each with a child in their arms, running through shadows of the castle wall.
"Ser Jaime!" Samwell exclaimed rushing to meet the wagon, as Gilly emerged from the darkness at his side.
Jaime wasted no time, pressing the horse's reigns into the Grand Maester's hands. 'What?" Sam questioned, bewildered. "I…I thought Ser Brienne would be…" He began, flustered. He had assumed the women and children would be taking flight to escape the attack, forgetting that Brienne's duties made it impossible for her to leave.
"You will be escorting Lady Tarly and the children from the city." Jaime interrupted him, patting Sam's shoulder reassuringly, but forcefully. There would be no argument.
"Me?" Samwell stammered. "I need to see to the wounded. I cannot leave." He tried to protest. He shuttered to recall the time in the Nights Watch that he begged Jon Snow not to desert his post at Castle Black to join Robb Stark's army, the punishment for such an act being death.
Jaime shook his head impatiently to silence the worried Grand Maester. "You take your leave on my orders." He commanded. "The responsibility is mine." He insisted impatiently, leading Sam to the side of the wagon. They stood as Brienne descended from the seat. Only Jaime noticed how she trembled as she clung to Galladon.
Practically forcing Samwell up onto the wagon, Jaime pulled his ruined gambeson from over the horse's eyes preparing him for the journey. He bent to scoop up the Tarly's oldest child Little Sam, and deposit the boy in the back of the wagon as Gilly handed their babe up to Sam. Brienne seemed to shrink as she stood holding Galladon, struck silent by the lump in her throat. In only moments she would give up her child to Gilly's care. There was no way of knowing if she would ever see him again.
Jaime heart was broken by the mournful plaintiff look in Brienne's eyes, and the despair that he knew exactly what she was thinking. He too, was aching at the idea of sending their son into the dangers of the night. However, he knew the chances for survival were better in fleeing than in staying. He stepped to Brienne's side and gathered her and Galladon reassuringly in his arms. They held each other close, keenly feeling each precious moment slipping through their fingers. "It will only be for a little while." He whispered at her ear. "We shall join him in a few days." He promised, though in his heart he knew he had no right to. Even as Brienne bravely nodded in repsonse to his vow, Jaime realized he could not swear to when they would hold their child again.
After a pause, which was not nearly long enough, Jaime reluctantly let his arms drop from around Brienne, and signaled their readiness to Gilly who calmly stepped forward. Brienne took another moment, cherishing the feel of her son in her arms and mouthing silent words of reassurance at Galladon's temple. Her eyes begged those thoughts that only a mother would understand as she looked desperately at Gilly. Then, mustering all the courage she was able, Brienne gave her child up to the younger woman before she lost the last drop of conviction that was quickly failing her.
"We shall watch over him as if he were our very own." Gilly swore,taking Galladon from Brienne and cradling him against her neck.
"I know you will." Brienne whispered and nodded gratefully, as the sky above them turned orange with still more fire from the bay. As if he realized this parting from his parents would be far longer than usual Galladon began to cry once more.
"You need to go, now." Jaime ordered, guiding Gilly to the wagon. He helped her up into the back where Little Sam waited, Galladon in her arms. "Ride south to Storm's End." He bid Sam. "Inform Lord Gendry of the assault on the Capital. If all is clear, find a ship to take you across the straits to Tarth." He continued. "Lord Selwyn will be expecting you." Jaime confirmed.
Sam moved to steady Gilly as she settled in for the journey, and then placed their own youngest in her free arm. "We will be waiting for you there." Sam pledged to Jaime, before slapping the reigns against the horse's back and driving into the night and the crowded panicked streets of Kings Landing, heading away from the Red Keep.
As they stood holding each other, watching their son depart, Brienne's choked sob brought Jaime from his own worry. As shattered as his heart was at watching the little wagon speed away through the crowd already thick with horrified citizens, Brienne's sorrow was nearly more than he could bear. Jaime took her hand, squeezing it tightly, and laid a reassuring kiss into her hair. "We shall see him again soon. I swear it." He told her. His tone was so certain, so brave, that she could almost believe him.
"Close the gate." Jaime shouted to the unseen soldiers who manned the gears.
They could wait no longer. There was no more time. The Tarlys and Galladon had disappeared into the night, and a certain Hell waited behind them. Jaime and Brienne knew they would be separated for most of this long night they now faced. As Master of War, he would command the troops in the thick of battle. The Lord Commander's place was leading the Guard to protect The King. At least at Winterfell they had been near each other, fighting as one, keeping themselves alive. This time, a lonely and insurmountable distance would separate them.
For an all too short moment, Brienne and Jaime were frozen against the glow of the night, each longing to confess a thousand words which would not form on their tongues. Jaime brought his fingers up softly to caress Brienne's face. He stared into her eyes, remembering the first moment he had done the same and realized how his entire world had melted into them. Giving up a silent and desperate prayer to the Gods that he would lose himself in them again once the night was over.
"We have to go." Jaime forced the words past his heart, and out of his mouth. Brienne held to his arm, but nodded her understanding.
Together they ran back into the heart of the Red Keep, trying to focus themselves on the task ahead of them. As they entered the courtyard, the shock of the sight before them stopped both Jaime and Brienne in their tracks. An inferno blazed around them, men lay dead and dying along almost every step of their route. Jaime had no time to ponder the parallels between the threat they now faced and the last time he had seen the The Keep laid to ruin.
As their minds tried to form some sense from the carnage which surrounded them, Brienne and Jaime watched in horror as a flaming projectile launched from the bay crashed into the top of the White Sword Tower. The sound of the bricks and glass shattering above them was almost deafening. Within a few loud explosive moments, nothing remained of the quarters which had housed Brienne and Galladon. She and Jaime stared up at the cavernous gaping hole the missile had made, now silhouetted against the fire which blazed within.
Brienne's legs went weak, and she fell against Jaime for support. "If we had not gotten him out of there, Galladon…would be…" She cried, searching his face for strength, terrified by the image of what could have been.
Jaime grabbed her shoulders, and forced her to stand. "He is safe." Jaime shouted. "He is safe and away from here." He reminded her. "He shall be protected in the arms of the Evenstar in but a few days." He proclaimed, as much to reassure himself as Brienne. At the thought, Brienne rallied, and turned her attentions back to the battle.
"Go." Jaime yelled. "Get to the Throne Room. Stay with King Bran." He ordered her. Jaime knew The King would be blockaded there during the battle. With men, weapons, and defenses at the ready, Brienne would be safer in that stronghold than in the open. As Lord Commander of the Kings Guard, it was her duty to see to Bran's safety above all else.
Brienne held Jaime's hand tightly to her heart, and pulled him close to her. "Be careful." She begged him. "Please." Her tears glistened in the firelight which blazed around them as she pressed a desperate kiss to Jaime's lips.
Jaime met the intensity of her appeal with equal force. The memory of her kiss would see him through the night. "Now Go!" He repeated emphatically.
Brienne backed away slowly, as if trying to memorize him. Jaime forced his legs to carry him from her. Unable to spend one more moment together, they both turned and propelled themselves toward their respective duties. The uncertain night closed in around them as they ran to meet the onslaught. As the distance grew between them, their hearts felt the pull of the love that bound them to each other grow even stronger.
Drawing Widows Wail from its scabbard, Jaime hurled himself through the lines of his troops, restless to reach the front where the fighting was sure to be the thickest. As one born to command, he would lead his men into battle. He now had so much more to fight for than just honor and glory. He would give his life for Brienne if he must. He would taste his last breath for her to be reunited with their son should that be his end. Before him, stretching upward, stood the thick barricade of ancient stone which protected the Keep. His heart sank a little when saw the extensive damages incurred by the castle wall. Still, he was proud to see those he had recruited and trained running headlong toward the invaders, ready to give their lives for The King and the Keep. He would give his for Brienne and Galladon.
Ser Davos Seaworth was the first of the other commanders that Jaime met on his path to join the fighting. "What happened?" Jaime shouted over those taking positions to fortify the castle.
"They must have destroyed our ships." Davos barked his reply, confirming Jaime's impressions when the siege began. "We would have had warning if any member of our armada was left alive." Davos asserted.
"What does it look like?" Jaime yelled as they ran up the stone steps that led to the battlements. "What are we up against?" He was desperate for information to determine the course of his defense.
There was no need for Ser Davos to answer as they crested the stairs, the full vista of Blackwater Bay entering their view. A thick fog hung just above the water. The cover of the mist was undoubtedly how the enemy fleet was able to glide unseen into the bay, after they had destroyed what remained of the Westerosi scout vessels. Out upon the Blackwater, through the shroud of churning vapor the signal fires of a hundred ships burned, dimmed only by the gloomy haze. The shouts of a thousand foreign tongues could be heard as they neared land. Jaime stepped forward, his brow furrowed with worry. His jaw opened reflexively, stunned by the images that filled his vision as he surveyed the scene before him. Leaning over the barrier that dropped off to the waterfront below, he realized the dreadful truth. The Essosi forces had already begun to scale the wall.
Inside the Throne Room, tensions ran high. The Kingsguard were on alert as they stood at the ready to defend their monarch with their lives if need be. Brienne paced a slow circle around King Bran her fingers gripping Oathkeeper's comforting hilt like a lifeline, a link to Jaime. With pride, she watch Podrick standing unflinching and brave at the King's side, his face stony with resolve. She almost smiled as she recalled the unsure but determined boy who had set out across Westeros with her on their quest to find Sansa Stark. Podrick's bravery and conviction were as stalwart as they ever were. However, a skilled and capable man now took the place of that awkward young squire. He stood confident at King Bran's side. Brienne gave up a silent prayer for her own boy being hastened away somewhere in the darkness of the night.
The sky continued to glow a garish orange through the stained glass windows which lined the room, as parts of the castle burned. The shouts and cries of those who fought on the other side of the walls that shielded the King became louder as the battle grew closer. The only one who seemed calm was Bran himself. Most were certain that he was already aware of the outcome of the seige. They could not tell if his peaceful demeanor was a result of the calm confidence of victory, or the hopeless resignation of defeat. Bran gave no hint at which it would be.
Brienne's heart raced with fear for Jaime. She knew he clashed with the enemy somewhere in the melee. She imagined him bravely rushing forth to meet the attack, Widows Wail held confidently before him. Brienne could almost feel Oathkeeper pulse in her hand at the thought of its mate. She gave up a prayer the Jaime would be safe. Then a bitter realization stole her breath and stilled the blood in her veins. 'He is not wearing his armor.' Her brain screamed inside her skull.
Almost at the same moment the thought of Jaime's safety shook Brienne's composure, the strained silence within the Throne Room was shattered by a fiery ball of tar and metal crashing through the midsection of windows along the gallery that overlooked the court. It hurtled across the balustrade and slammed into the floor of the giant chamber. In a flurry of panicked action members of the Guard rushed to extinguish the fire. Some tore their cloaks from their backs, while others stomped at the flames. Brienne stared aghast at the jagged hole made by the projectile as smoke from the courtyard entered the room, and the noise of battle assaulted their ears. Remorse shadowed Brienne's face, as she longed to be in the fight beside Jaime. She did not see King Bran watching her intently.
"Ser Brienne." Bran's strikingly calm voice called. Brienne's head spun in his direction, embarrassment burning upon her cheeks at having been caught in a moment of negligence. "Go to him." Bran bid.
"Your Grace?" Brienne questioned, uncertain she had heard him correctly.
"Ser Podrick and the Guard will protect me." He nodded. "Ser Jaime will need you soon." He prophesized, eerily.
She eyed the King warily. Her mind wondered at the powers of the Three Eyed Raven. She was now sure he had known what this night would bring long before they all had found themselves battling the enemy within the walls of the Keep. Brienne was also certain that there was some reason Bran had allowed the threat to reach this level of urgency. Whatever the purpose, she was beginning to understand the King well enough to know that the ultimate outcome was to ensure the good of the Realm. Still, she stared at King Bran long after he had given her leave to join Jaime in the thick of the fighting. Everything within her told Brienne that her place, her duty, was to see to the safety of the King at all costs. However, she could feel her heart ready to burst within her chest, aching to be at Jaime's side.
Brienne drew a breath filled with dread, ready to bolt from the Throne Room. Before she could move the main doors at the opposite end of the cavernous space shuttered and groaned as they were battered from the other side. The enemy had found them. The ancient timber against which they pounded and heaved would surely not last much longer.
Brienne heard Bran's decree again. It rang clearly in her mind as if he were whispering into her ear. "Go!" He said to her again.
The Essosi invaders were only moments from gaining entrance to their stronghold, and from capturing King Bran. There was now only one course, Brienne's battle-seasoned mind could envision, survival. Brienne shouted her final order before she would leave Bran's side. She raised her eyes to Podrick. "Get the King out of here!" She bid him and the other guards motioning toward the other barred doorways that led from the Throne Room. Ser Podrick sprang to take charge of the King's wheeled chair, and see him from the Throne room. The Guard began to rip the barricades apart, clearing an escape route for the King. Brienne drew Oathkeeper, and hurried through one of those exits.
With fierce determination and unstoppable force, Brienne was swinging Oathkeeper, clearing her path even before she reached open ground. She would accept no hinderance along her path to Jaime. Brienne already knew where he would be. There was no doubt in her mind that she would find him along the battlement wall nearest the sea, where the enemy had breached the stronghold. She could almost picture him bravely facing the menacing horde. She allowed the image of him to bolster her strength, before it was once again replaced by the fear she felt for the man she loved. Brienne was desperate to reach him.
In short order, she had cleared a path for herself halfway across the courtyard, refusing to be thwarted by the deadly weapons flying at her in a mad frenzy. Brienne looked up and saw the castle wall silhouetted ahead of her. Her heart shuddered in her chest as she surveyed the destruction which had allowed the swarm of enemy legions to enter the Keep. Brienne's pace quickened at the thought that Jaime was somewhere in the midst of the bloody combat. She could not bear the distance between them. Nothing would stand in her way.
Breathless, Brienne reached the base of the castle wall. Dispatching several more enemy soldiers, she ran along the perimeter until she reached the steps which snaked back and forth to the top of the parapet. Without hesitation she flung herself upward, Oathkeeper flashing in the firelight. What she found when she reached the highest step gave her no cause to rejoice and no time to pause. Essosi were streaming over the battlements like drops of water careening over the stones in a river. If only they were as benign. These rapids flowed ready to overwhelm the men who defended the Red Keep. The parallels to the Dead she had fought at Winterfell caused Brienne's steps to falter. In that moment as she caught herself, her mind reeling to make sense of what lay before her, Brienne at last found Jaime.
Jaime fought on the far end of the expanse from where she stood. Her heart skipped a beat, watching him outlined against the burning sky. He was the strongest, bravest man she had ever seen, and she loved him fiercely. Desperately, Brienne ran to him, cutting down Essosi on her way. It was as if Jaime sensed Brienne before he saw her. He stopped, Widows Wail brandished high above his head, searching for his next quarry. Jaime turned, slowly, fearful of what he knew he would see. The time between them stood still, and the distance disappeared. Their eyes met in hopeful tragic understanding. Jaime's face clouded with remorse as he realized Brienne had willingly placed herself in the gravest of danger for him.
As she reached him at last, Jaime shook his head in dread. 'What are you doing here?" He shouted, kicking a young Essosi, who had ventured far too close to Brienne, from the wall.
She took a moment to reach behind him and slit the belly of another invader who threatened Jaime's flank. "I am here on the King's orders." She answered loudly. Together they took out two more enemy fighters who encroached far too close upon the tiny patch of stone they held.
Jaime's expression turned almost angry at the turn of events he could no longer control. "No!" Jaime shook vehemently. "I wanted you protected in the Throne Room. I wanted you safe." He declared. Another rally of men beginning to swarm them.
Brienne stared at him defiantly. "I'm not letting you do this alone!" She cried.
Unable to argue his point any longer, and losing precious inches of hard held ground, Jaime had no choice but to accept Brienne's assistance as well as her presence, and pray that she would be safe at the fighting's end. Without another word, the two knights fell into a familiar pattern, protecting and striking, and keeping each other alive. They fought along the ramparts as two parts of one whole, an unseen link pulling them into a complimentary, almost poetic choreography. It was the way things had always been between them, even before either had realized it.
It was so natural, so easy. With each stroke of their paired swords, Jaime and Brienne pledged themselves to each other again and again. Bravely, they battled, until it became wrenchingly clear that they were losing what little advancement they had been able to make. Jaime brought his eyes, almost apologetically, to meet Brienne dire stare. They were both aware what had to be done.
"Fall Back!" Jaime shouted the order to his men, hoping that at least lives could be saved to continue the fight below. Defensively, he and Brienne retraced their steps along the walkway that cut through the top of the wall, their blades continuing to take out as many of the enemy as they could manage. Nearly backward, they descended the staircase, fighting and trying to catch a glimpse of clear ground upon which to rally as they went.
They reached the bottom at a full run, and made for the cover of the Sept. Westerosi steel continued to flash bravely against the long curved swords of the foreign army. The King's troops would fight to the last. As they rounded the near side of the Royal Sept, a young squire who carried the shield of a house of Westeros lost his brave fight and fell where he stood, his body careening into Brienne. The moment that it took for her to regain her balance and her focus was all that was needed for the same assailant who had cut down the boy to set his sights upon her. Jaime saw the man's evil grin and the glint of his steel sailing toward Brienne before his hand could react with a blocking angle.
In a reflex of protectiveness, Jaime jumped headlong between Brienne and the deadly weapon, shoving her out of the way with his own body. Brienne was again flung off balance, unsure for a moment what was happening. Frantically, she spun around in time to see the Essosi bury the tip of his blade deep within Jaime's ribs. In only the blink of an eye, Jaime crumpled backward, wincing in pain, but making no sound.
"No!" Brienne screamed in horror, watching Jaime fall to the ground. Rage flashed in her eyes as she brought Oathkeeper up at the ready and took the Essosi's head.
Almost hysterical, Brienne fell to her knees beside the heap of Jaime's frame. She turned him to face her, tears streaming down her cheeks when she saw the gushing stream of blood flowing down his side. Gathering him in her arms, the way she had when he was injured and weak at Harrenhal, Brienne tried to will her own strength into him. Nearly in shock, Jaime raised his blood covered fingers and caressed Brienne tear stained cheek.
As if in a dream, he smiled. "Thank the Gods." He sputtered, through a choked whisper. Although gravely wounded, his only thought was of her. "You are unharmed, My Love." He sighed, his glassy eyes gleaming with thankfulness and relief.
Brienne watched the light flickering behind Jaime's eyes growing weaker with each passing moment. "Jaime! Please." She begged. "Stay with me." Brienne echoed the words with which she had implored him the night he rode away from Winterfell. This time it was not his choice to make. She held Jaime close as he struggled against the pain that was beginning to ravage his body. All he could do was stare up into her eyes, finding peace in their soothing depths.
It was then, Brienne's mind went unbidden to the words she had not yet spoken. "I love you!" She sobbed. "I love you!" She swore to Jaime, as if the declaration could heal him.
Jaime's eyes grew distant, and an adoring smile passed over his face. His heavy eyes studied Brienne, burning her image into his brain. If the Gods would take him, at least he would have her memory. He thought of Galladon, grateful that he had been able to know the babe Brienne had given him, and swore that his soul would not leave this world until he had seen his son to safety. Slowly fatigue descended upon him. It was a chore to keep his eyes fixed on Brienne's lovely face, an effort simply to draw breath. He saw the terror in her expression, and watched her mouth moving. 'Jaime! Jaime!' He knew she was screaming, but he could not hear her. He wanted to soothe the fear from her brow, to ease the worry in her heart. He wanted to tell her that he heard the oath of love she had just sworn to him, and that was enough to fill every moment of eternity with joy.
Unable to fight any longer, Jaime let his blood soaked hand fall from Brienne's face, leaving forlorn streaks of red down her cheek. He gazed up at her and felt the peace of their bond which would unite them, always. "Brienne." Was all he could whisper before the world went dark.