After locating Pod and a brief encounter with Ser Bronn of the Blackwater over some cold chicken, Brienne returned to her horse and was greeted there by the steward Daven.

"I was surprised to see you so far from the capital, Daven." The steward nodded and smiled. "It was important for Ser Jaime to have someone he trusted with him on this trip. And there are terrible things happening in King's Landing right now. I'd rather be here than risking my life there." He seemed to carry a great sadness when he said this and Brienne found his turn of phrase curious. She had no idea what was happening in the capital, but obviously there had been a great many things she did not understand. They'd been traveling for some time and avoiding the roads, and prior to that they'd been in the all-but forgotten North. So she'd had no news of anything for some time, but Jaime had not hinted at anything strange. "What's happened?"

Daven hesitated and then looked up as two birds flew over their heads, low in the sky. "Dark wings, dark words," he observed. He looked back at her and cocked his head. "I know that you plan to treat with the Blackfish." "Yes, it's important that I see him." Daven nodded and licked his bottom lip, cautious. "Did Ser Jaime tell you that he'd already tried?" Brienne was taken aback. "No, he didn't." "Did he caution you against it?" Brienne thought back - Jaime had said many things to her, some of them less feeling than others. "He said that the Blackfish was stubborn, but I'm hopeful that a request from his neice's daughter will be received differently than a request from the head of King Tommen's Kingsguard."

Daven took a deep breath and met her gaze. "My Lady, Ser Jaime no longer serves on the Kingsguard." Brienne knitted her brows at the steward who, she acknowledged, was likely overstepping the bounds of his position. Her eyes darted to the commander's tent, then back to Daven. "What do you mean?" she whispered. "King Tommen removed him and sent him here. He told Ser Jaime that he was no longer fit to serve. Did you..." he considered the next thing he said very carefully, "Ser Jaime has lost quite a bit in the last several years." Brienne nodded as he continued, "After King Joffrey's death and after you'd gone, Lord Tyrion escaped and killed Lord Tywin...Ser Jaime blames himself." Brienne's breathing was suddenly shallow and her stomach felt like it might burst. "Then when the princess was lost, he threw himself into his duties." Brienne's eyes went wide but Daven continued, "My lady, it's as if he has nothing left."

Everything is dark

Brienne's eyes they bore into Daven. "Myrcella?" she said, her voice pitched higher than usual. The steward nodded sadly. "An act of war from Sunspear. Retribution for Prince Oberyn's death." Brienne gasped and looked back at the tent. Gods, no wonder he'd been so cold at her mention of the Stark girls. He'd loved that girl best of all. Brienne glanced at the sky. She still had a quarter of a day to speak to the Blackfish and convince him to leave Riverrun with her. She could afford the delay.

"Does Ser Jaime remain in his tent?" "Yes, my lady." Daven took a step back, nodding. "I'm sure you would be welcome. Shall I announce you?" Brienne considered - if Daven went before her, Jaime would know that his state of mind had been betrayed by one of his most trusted allies, albeit with his best interests in mind. If she went alone, Daven might be spared censure. "There will be no need. I shall announce myself. Thank you, Daven." She touched his arm and held his gaze. Daven nodded. "I trust you'll still need an escort to the castle?" Wise man. He knew that she would speak with the Blackfish regardless, that this was only a delay in the interest of caring for their mutual friend. Brienne nodded and walked slowly back to the lion's den.

Only one of the flaps was open now, letting just enough light in for Brienne to spy Jaime sitting in a corner, lost in his thoughts as she approached the tent. Reaching the entry way, she blocked much of the light, drawing Jaime's attention. At the sight of her, he shot up out of his daze, his brow drawn. He'd thought her long-gone by now, sealed up in the castle with an uncertain fate. Yet there she was standing before him, haloed in light. "What is it, what's happened?"

She felt a tear threatening to roll down her face. He seemed broken - more so even than after losing his hand. As he moved toward the light she could see that his eyes were raw and exhaustion seemed to have set in to the other muscles of his face. Her voice was quiet. "Jaime, why didn't you tell me?" Puzzled, he moved closer. He didn't think he'd ever heard her use his name alone before. "Why didn't you tell me you had already tried with the Blackfish?" He sighed, shaking his head. "The old man is a fool. There's no telling how a few hours might affect a fool's opinions on things. You might have better luck than me. You have Sansa," he shrugged and turned away. "I think we both know that's not it."

He spun back to her, blinking against the light. What did she know, he thought, what had she been told? And who, he thought darkly, had told her? "What do you want me to say? That I failed? Does it please you to hear me admit that? Ser Jaime Lannister - Kingslayer, oathbreaker, man without honor failed in treating with an overripe cod! I have failed every single person in my life, does that satisfy you?" He turned angrily back to the dark, not wanting to see the disappointment in her face. She must have moved closer to him because her voice was nearer when she spoke again, in a whisper. "I'm so sorry about Myrcella."

His face crumbled and he hung his head. Without thinking, she reached out and put her hand on his right shoulder, and the contact, even through the jerkin, was too much - before he knew it his body was wracked with sobs and he had reached up with his good hand to cover hers, his back to her. How is it that this woman had such an effect on him? She wanted to hold him, to comfort him. When he had reached up and held her hand to him she could feel as if she was on fire. "Jaime."

It's more than you can take

He turned back to her slowly, holding onto her wrist, his face wet. She looked down at his hand holding onto her and met his eyes. "You have never failed me." He could see the path of her tears down her own face and it was all he could do to resist reaching up and brushing them away. Instead he lifter her hand to his lips and brushed her knuckles. He released her hand and she steadied herself in his eyes. "But what if I do?" He asked hoarsely. "You won't. If I do not succeed with the Blackfish, that is my own burden. If I fail, do not take it on yourself." "And if he or his men harm you? What about my soldiers when we take the castle, what then? No doubt you would best all of them in a fair fight, but they don't always fight fair." She cocked her head, "then you'll need to live to take revenge."

He took a deep breath. If she only knew how those words of hers had driven him for years now. "But it will still not be your failure." He closed his eyes and all he could picture was the sight of her bleeding in that bear pit and the helplessness he felt when Locke would not pull her out. He had not failed her then. He could not fail her now. "If it doesn't go well, I will do everything in my power to ensure that the castle is taken peacefully." She nodded, "Thank you."

She tore her eyes from his face and turned to go. "Brienne." She paused and half-turned, looking back at him, gripping Oathkeeper at her side. His mouth turned up at one corner at the sight of it. "Be careful." She swallowed and nodded. "Goodbye, Jaime."

And she was gone.

A/N: I do not own Game of Throne or these characters; some dialogue may be taken verbatim from HBO's Game of Thrones or George R. R. Martin's A Song of Ice and Fire. Lyrics used are directly from Andrew Belle's "In My Veins" (C) 2010.